"And don't let her stay up all night worrying," Cheerilee says, nose in the air and eyes shut elegantly in a display of truly outrageous haughtiness.

Spike scribbles a note on a long scroll, finishing with a decisive flourish. "Right." He gives Cheerilee a bit of a look as he does so, saying: and how, exactly, am I supposed to do that? I'm not you.

Cheerilee ignores him. "And no food in bed. I swear she'll start putting on weight, and I won't have that."

"No food in bed. Got it."

"And I know the presentation is after a formal dinner reception but that doesn't mean she gets to sleep in until two pee em –"

"I'm right here, you know," Twilight says, half-frowning.

Behind her, a huge white train is steaming, ready for its long journey to Manehattan. A couple suitcases and a small crate containing displays and complex apparatuses are floating in the air beside her as a pair of unicorn porters begin loading it onto the baggage car, their work momentarily distracted by the little domestic comedy.

Cheerilee opens one eye and gives her a mischievous little smile. "So?"

Twilight just huffs in response, but smiles anyways.

"Was there anything else?" Spike asks, looking from one to the other nervously. He's still a little young to understand exactly how this is flirting.

"Try to have fun," Cheerilee says, giving him a little peck on the head.

The dragon grins and makes a show of adding that to the list.

Twilight pouts. "What about me?"

"I suppose if you had some fun too it wouldn't be so bad," Cheerilee says, stepping up to her. "But don't get carried away. You're spoken for, young mare..."

They kiss.

It's gentle, and brief, but both of them know it's a promise of slightly less chaste behavior the very second Twilight gets back.

They separate very slightly as the last call whistle wails at the engine, a little ways down the track past the far end of the platform.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Twilight says, the very slightest tremble in her voice.

Cheerilee chuckles. "I think you're going to be way too busy for that. Presentations to attend, old wizards to hobnob with, you know." She puts her hoof on Twilight's chest and looks up into those gleaming purple eyes, the ones she loves to drown herself in as she lies in their bed.

Their bed. In their library.

"You'll be great, Twilight. You know I wish I could be there, and understand anything you were talking about," she says with a huge grin. "Knock 'em dead and come home, will you?"

Twilight smiles gratefully.

It's the very first time she'll be away from Ponyville for any length of time since she and Cheerilee got together, and she's been fretting about that as much as her work for the last week. Cheerilee can't bring herself to complain, somehow; Twilight worrying about being away had meant Twilight reminding herself, at some length, what she was going to be missing.

And it was nice to hear Twilight worry about missing me before she had even left, wasn't it...?

Considering one thing and another lately, it had been very welcome indeed. It had been a very hard couple of weeks...

"I better go," Twilight says, anxiously. "I love you."

"And I love you, Twilight Sparkle. Hurry back to me," Cheerilee replies, before turning to Spike. "Take good care of her – I'm trusting you!"

Spike salutes as he hops on the train. "You got it, Cheerilee!"

The door shuts in his face, and the engine's whistle wails.

Cheerilee stands on the platform, smiling faintly, as the wheels begin moving. Before too long, Twilight's worried face appears at a window in the passenger car. Cheerilee lets her smile grow wider and waves, and is comforted when Twilight perks up and waves in return as the car pulls away down the track.

A hoof-full of moments and the train is already a tiny line of white in the distance.

She sighs.

Twilight was now safely packed away towards the other side of Equestria, safe in the claws of her loyal assistant and more or less happy given the more or less permanent state of anxiety she inflicted on herself when the zero hour for anything approached.

Part two of her plan taken care of, then.

Princess Celestia pauses, eyes narrowing.

Before her on the writing desk is the half-finished reply to a very troublesome letter which had arrived that morning. It would be barely readable by a normal pony in the faint, ethereal light of the little orb hovering above the desk – the only light shutting out the evening gloom in her chambers, as it happens. The candelabras are unlit, the fireplace is cold...

She's been busy.

Letters are piled everywhere around her in neat little piles according to their shape. Rolled scrolls, sealed envelopes, even a few carefully-etched gems suitable for travel to the dragons, in their fiery homelands...

She'd saved this for last. It had warranted some thought.

While I appreciate the invitation, I'm afraid that on such short notice I'd have a difficult time setting aside other obligati–

It was...mostly a lie, if she was honest, but she also felt that now was a good time to remind the ponies in question that she didn't live on their timetable. It was one of those lies you tell to establish boundaries, even if that's a little...how to put this...?

Not exactly what she wanted to do.

It's necessary from time to time, though.

But her consciousness of this small unpleasantness isn't why she has paused.

Her eyes flicker back to the original letter and carefully review it. Having done so, she cocks her head, frowning and peering at it suspiciously.

"Hmmm," she hums, dark curiosity lurking in the corners of the sound.

Now she does something she has not done in a very, very long time, and second-guesses her memory.

She needs to be sure.

And because of that, the task takes some doing; but before too long she is re-reading a slightly older letter, obviously written by horn rather than in the earth pony or pegasus fashion like this newer, suspicious one.

No new words have magically appeared on it since she last read it. Which was not unheard of, of course, but seemed unlikely in this case.

She narrows her eyes and turns back to the questionable missive.

"That can't be right," she murmurs.

She looks up from her desk and out a window on the far side of her study, where the spectacular night sky spreads across the southern horizon.

The princess raises an eyebrow.

"Unless..."

Three days pass.

For the first time ever, Cheerilee is alone in the library for days at a time. She has to admit, it's a little strange, but in an exciting sort of way. It really is hers, her place. Her home. She doesn't need Twilight or Spike there with her to make the fact of it true. Not anymore.

The thrill of this is dulled somewhat by how the place seems very big and empty without them. Her wish that they would any minute walk in the door really does burn in her chest, like a stone left out to bake in the sun on a bright beach; but rather than try to stop feeling it, she merely nurses the longing gently, carrying it along with her gingerly so that she was warmed but not burned.

Instead she finds her comfort in just letting the routine of her life consume her, carrying lonely little Cheerilee along with it, its challenges and struggles familiar, wearing away the hours until her library was once again filled with arguments and commotion and love.

The past three mornings, she has rolled out of her grandmother's bed, which had always been far too large for even two ponies, and washed up as she chews on something simple and downs more coffee than is probably healthy quicker than anypony should do.

Then, after hanging an apologetic little note on the handle of the library's front door, she heads to the schoolhouse and puts in the daily twelve hours, eight of which she will almost certainly be paid for.

She wipes the runny noses, hands out the math lessons, returns corrected essays on their trip to City Hall, washes the blackboard, sweeps the floors, counsels one young colt going through his very first crush on a classmate ("No, honey, I don't think you should give her those. Those are stinging nettles, not flowers..."), and in between it all somehow manages to squeeze in some teaching.

Once she'd fought the good fight she comes home again, corrects some work, and does her best to find a half-hour to read before she makes her way up the stairs and passes out, ready to greet the next morning with something short of an indecent gesture, if at all possible.

The universe's only concession to her stress seemed to be the unusually low level of activity from her three most troubles–

Now, now, be nice.

– her three most challenging students, who had been on their best behavior lately in the fallout of their last sch – challenging situation.

It's almost meditative. She just accepted the day, moving through the same motions she always did, considering little else. She'd done a lot of considering – and inquiring, and researching – in the last couple weeks before setting events in motion, sending her beloved on her way.

Now, she merely needed to wait and see what would happen.

Two letters were the only things interrupting this blessed, peaceful state.

One had come the first night in a familiar burst of sweet green smoke as she sat correcting a spelling quiz, falling into a long-forgotten salad. Underneath the dressing stains, it read something like:

Dear Cheerilee,

We're safely in Manehattan and more or less set up in our rooms at the Bitz-Astor. I've been here before a couple times before, but it's amazing how it manages to change constantly...

Anyways, this place is way too fancy for me. Spike loves it, of course, but that's only because he doesn't know that the snacks he's sneaking from the mini-bar are going to be paid with his allowance – and with these prices, that's going to be a couple weeks' worth. Help me remember, okay?

I'm not sure what else there is to say, except I miss you, and I wish you were here. Spike has apparently learned to snore now that he has his own room, and being kept awake by it just reminds me how much has changed. And the best part of those changes really is having somepony warm to snuggle up to in the night.

I'll be back as soon as I can. I love you –

Well, Cheerilee assumed it said 'I love you', but it might have said 'I fish lemon', it was hard to tell under the vinaigrette.

I love you.

Yours,
Twilight

That letter was set on the bedside table, where she could read it anytime she wanted.

The second letter had been hoof-delivered by Royal courier, at the schoolhouse, the next day. It was very brief and to the point.

It would be my pleasure to join you. I shall try to arrive with a minimum of fanfare – I think that would be best.

Not melting in the sudden reality of what that meant in front of the Royal Guardspony and her entire class had been...challenging.

That letter was set on the table with the weird wooden bust, half-buried beneath some half-finished stacks of papers to correct, left where it had fallen when she shrugged her saddlebags off.

One more day of moving through the motions had passed, and now:

Friday evening.

Cheerilee lounges on one of the couches strewn about the library floor, half-reading an open folio of free verse from the Classical Romantic period, a few centuries ago. Not for pleasure – she liked rhythm in her poetry, and a sort of spartan sense of every word being laden with direct meaning, not the Romantic style of trying to make everything as sweeping and dramatic as possible.

Which made it a bit ironic, of course, since the book was, in essence, a prop for the upcoming...

...whatever happened.

On the opposite side of the library, the owl hoots softly as he awakens.

Cheerilee looks up, momentarily startled by the sound.

Oh, for heavens' sake, are you serious? He brings you the Equestria Daily on his way back in most mornings!

If Owloiysius notices her unusual stress, though, he makes no sign, merely giving her a wide-eyed stare.

She settles herself quickly to give him a polite nod of greeting, knowing very well she's blushing in apology. He is courteous enough to give her a pair of blinks before pressing a wing against his little round window and vanishing silently into the night.

Her eyes, freed from the horrible literary prison of how terribly distressing these ponies found the tremendous sadness of watching flower petals wilt, cannot help but snap to the clock.

She's really been trying not to look at it. Partially to prevent the wait dragging out forever, but mostly because she was dreadfully afraid that if she looked, it would already be –

"Six o'clock," she says to the vertical line on the clock face.

Damn.

And as if on cue, the silence was broken by an enthusiastic rapping at the door.

Very enthusiastic, in fact.

Cheerilee's brows furrow.

Her discreet inquiries over the last few weeks had revealed that the princess was occasionally prone to odd flights of fancy and a somewhat puckish sense of humor from time to time, but this...

Rising from the couch, Cheerilee shakes her head.

There's such a thing as staying young at heart, but this seems a bit much.

The rapping comes again, a little more tentative this time.

Cheerilee trots over to the front door, closes her eyes, and takes a deep, calming breath.

You can do this.

Dig your hooves in, and don't back down...

One hoof reaches out and presses down the latch.

"Good evening," she says, with as much cheer as she can muster. Opening her eyes, she looks up –

Where there should be a tall, graceful white figure, there is only open air.

Cheerilee's ears prick up in alarm as she drops her vision first to eye level, then further down, to see –

"Hey, Miss Cheerilee!" Scootaloo chirps, her broad smile threatening to spread so far across her head that the top would fall off.

Cheerilee's internal momentum, which had been driving her forward inexorably like a train running full steam, skips several rails and rolls off the tracks across the open field of her mind.

"Girls!" she burbles. "But – what –"

"Don't mind us, we'll just be a moment," Sweetie Belle says haughtily, as the Cutie Mark Crusaders squeeze through the doorway, snaking between Cheerilee's legs, obliging the mare to weave and dodge as they find their way underhoof and past her, trotting into the library stacks, chattering to one another with every appearance of comfort.

As if I didn't have enough problems this evening! Oh, heavens...

Struggling for mental equilibrium, Cheerilee spins on her hooves and reaches for the three fillies vaguely as they disappear into the shelves. "Girls! As...nice as it is to see all of you, ah, it really isn't a good time just now –"

"It'll just be a second!" comes the chorused reply.

"Seriously, girls, this is my home! You can't just come barging in here," Cheerilee gasps, desperately.

Especially not now, for heavens' sake!

Apple Bloom's head pokes up from behind the Geography shelf with a rather patronizing expression. "If y'all didn't want ponies bargin' in, ya shouldn't live in the library."

Scootaloo's head appears from around the periodicals. "Seriously, you brought this on yourself."

Sweetie Belle trots out from between modern history and the biographies. "Spikey lets us in whenever we want. Twilight, too. She says 'knowledge knows no hour.'"

"That does sound like something she'd say," Cheerilee says, sighing. "But do you see them here right now?"

The three pause, then cast looks about the place as if this was the first they'd even thought to notice.

Apple Bloom shrugs. "Ah guess not."

Cheerilee makes a brief gesture: And what does that tell us?

"We'll make this quick, then," Sweetie Belle says, ducking into the classical novels, A-Li. "It's important."

The library floor is quickly filled with the bustle of the three fillies' rapid search for whatever they were looking for, their excited chatter spilling over each other until it became an incomprehensible cacophony of shrieks, yelps, and brief arguments.

Cheerilee groans, clapping a hoof onto her temple and grinding it there in a vain hope of staving off the forthcoming headache.

It's a big, big world out there, Cheerilee. Did you really think the universe would let you arrange things to your perfect satisfaction without interfering?

It never has before, after all.

She trots over to the stacks, trying vainly to keep track of the three fillies as they scurried from shelf to shelf, carrying huge stacks of books back and forth as they consult with one another. Maybe if she helps them find whatever they're looking for, it'll all be over quickly and they'll be on their way before she arrives.

It was her own fault. She should have been more suspicious of the relatively low level of chaos surrounding the Crusaders, these past couple weeks.

...but she'd had other things on her mind.

She sighs. "I have nopony to blame except myself, I suppose..."

"That's what I was just saying!" Scootaloo says, from somewhere in the arts and crafts section. "Don't get all kissy with a librarian if you don't like it when ponies want to use the library, sheesh!"

"Seriously," Apple Bloom says from somewhere nearby.

"Forgive me if I don't take advice about my love life from you three," Cheerilee replies, trying to keep a growl out her voice. It's taking a lot of effort not to grind her teeth. "Not after what happened the last time. Or the time before that. Or the incident with the love...poison, whatever, for that matter..."

Sweetie Belle pops up from behind a display of poetry selections Cheerilee had helped Twilight pick a few weeks earlier, looking a little incredulous. "Pshhh. What love life? Your girlfriend is Twilight Sparkle. Her idea of a hot date is, I don't know, reading a really, really old book –"

"And what, may I ask, is so wrong with that? When you get a little older, you might learn to appreciate the value of a quiet evening in, yourself," somepony says from the second-story landing.

"Right?" Cheerilee grouches –

And then her mind catches up with her.

Oh, damn!

"Ah, youth," the voice continues, with a contented little sigh. Its tone is perfectly calm and serene, touched with the very slightest hint of deep amusement.

Cheerilee forces herself not to leap, spinning, on her hooves, or to yelp, or even hiss under her breath to betray the sudden rise in her hackles. The part of her which always looks out at the world with a wry grimace suspects it's wasted effort, but there is such a thing as playing to the scene.

"Princess Celestia," she says, as coolly as she can manage, as she looks up. "I was...glad you accepted my invitation."

She's actually relieved to hear the hoofbeats as the princess lets her hooves touch the wood of the landing. But there was something...right, about that. Heavens knew Twilight sometimes just appeared up there when she was in a hurry. The sound of hoof meeting wood just made everything real.

It's a fleeting sensation.

As she turns to take in her visitor, Cheerilee is once again struck – overwhelmed – by the radiance of the princess. Tall, elegant, and...and...

Beautiful. Stunning.

Divine.

In the low light of early evening, Celestia seems to shine – a beacon of brilliant white and splashes of pastel light gleaming amidst the shadows of the second floor, cast by the fading daylight.

Cheerilee feels a sudden impulse to cringe, or shy away from the princess, all her confidence and planning for this moment turning to a twisted, wretched guilt, deep down inside, like a foal caught with wet sheets.

Oh, you're way out of your league now, little Cheerilee...

But she makes herself smile pleasantly, and doesn't look away.

"Cheerilee," Celestia says coolly, their eyes locked on one another's...

But before Cheerilee can burst into embarrassed, guilty flames, the moment of tension is brought to a sudden and catastrophic end.

"Princess Celestia!" shriek the three young fillies in unison, suddenly surrounding her, bouncing up and down in excitement. Cheerilee has to suppress an absurd, relieved giggle with a hoof as the princess casts her head about, trying to keep her calm, but intense expression from breaking into a disconcerted grimace as the Cutie Mark Crusaders swarm her, bombarding her with cheerful greetings and questions.

"Hey! Hey! What's up? Why are you visiting?"

"Are ya stayin' long?"

"Wanna help us find a book?"

"Didya get my letter? Huh? It was only, like, six months ago, right?"

"Hey! Are you coming to Dinky Doo's birthday party next week? She told me she invited you! Ooooh, you should come, she says they're having a piñata! I don't even know what that is!"

"Girls!" Cheerilee barks, in her teacher voice. "Give the princess some room, please!"

The three fillies freeze in place, looking from one mare to the other sheepishly.

"Thank you, Cheerilee," Celestia says, nodding to her in what appears to be honest gratitude, before turning a fond and indulgent look on the Crusaders. "I must say, I'm surprised to find the...notorious Cutie Mark Crusaders here! I didn't know you were joining the three of us this evening..."

Scootaloo's face scrunches up in confusion. "Three of us?"

"Mmm, yes. Miss Cheerilee, myself, and Twilight Sparkle," the princess says. "I was invited to visit for the evening."

"But...Twilight's not here," Apple Bloom says.

Celestia raises an eyebrow, nodding. "You know, I was sure she was busy tonight, myself. I meant to ask about that..."

The princess' eyes flick back to Cheerilee's, and though she is still smiling, the younger mare is forced to reflect that a smile is the last thing a lot of small, squishy creatures ever see, out in the world.

"Disappointing," is all she says.

If there was ever proof that Cheerilee needed to get out more, it was here, in how even in this situation something deep down finds time to clap and cheer at the simplicity and elegance of that statement.

One word! So laden with meaning! It could refer to so many things, all at once!

Brilliant! Full marks! A-plus with a gold star!

And it's aimed at me! Agh!

Cheerilee can't help but squirm in place a bit, even after Celestia turns her faint smile back to the Crusaders.

"Oh, well, maybe she'll be back soon," Sweetie Belle says with an innocent shrug – she doesn't know one way or the other, after all. "We're just here looking something up quick."

"I see," the princess replies. "Well, well! It's so wonderful to know there are young ponies so eager about learning, I must say."

The Crusaders turn a canny look on Cheerilee and, as one pony, wink.

Cheerilee's heart freezes in place while at the very same instant sinking into the depths of her hollow guts, which are at the same time squirming as if filled with a wide variety of creepy-crawlies.

Oh, shi–

"Well, princess, it's only because we have such a wonderful teacher," Scootaloo says, her voice oily enough to lubricate wagon axles.

"Inspiring," Sweetie Belle adds, nodding sagely.

"Ah can't get enough math," Apple Bloom says – and to Cheerilee's private shock, the universe doesn't implode from the incomprehensible magnitude of this lie.

Cheerilee grins desperately as Celestia's eyes flicker back to her, the little smile on her face not moving even an inch.

"You're all very lucky, I'm sure," the princess says, primly.

The Crusaders grin hugely as they nod with ridiculous enthusiasm.

"How about this, girls," the princess says, as if utterly delighted to be assaulted by the three most rambunctious creatures in Equestria short of Pinkie Pie. "If Cheerilee would be so good as to indulge me in the cup of coffee I was promised in her invitation, I'll help you find what you're looking for. It's been a long time since I got to help somepony in a library – and I see Twilight has rearranged everything again, so it'll be a good chance for me to get reacquainted. How does that sound?"

The three fillies cheer loudly and scamper down the stairs, disappearing into the shelves. Celestia follows them, in no particular rush, smiling serenely.

"Two sugars and a spoon of sweet cream?" Cheerilee asks, as she passes.

The princess pauses, ears pricking upwards. She turns a bemused look on Cheerilee. "What makes you think that?"

"That's how Twilight takes it."

Celestia laughs, once. "I've always wondered how she manages to be so perky just after waking up. No, no. I take mine black, and very hot, if you please."

"Because why waste time," Cheerilee's mind adds automatically, while Cheerilee herself is busy bubbling over with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry?"

Cheerilee blinks, and her ears prick up in alarm as she catches up with events. "Oh, nothing, nothing. I'll be right back..."

The princess smiles briefly and slowly walks in the direction of the library stacks where the noise appears to be loudest.

Cheerilee turns away and forces herself not to scramble into the little kitchen set off the main floor, but she cannot prevent herself from collapsing against the wall as the double doors swing shut behind her. She slides down until her rump is resting on the floor and throws back her head, sighing wearily as her eyes close.

She feels a tear of terrified frustration escape her eye, and wipes it away.

Could this be any more messed up?

Although in fairness, it's not like things would have been any more generous to her nerves if they had gone according to plan. But she was at least ready for a bit of a showdown. She had been mentally preparing herself, running conversations through her head and so on, for a week now. She was ready to talk to the princess, to get right down to the nitty-gritty, even if it seemed presumptuous and arrogant in the extreme.

She could have handled that.

But like a storm blowing in off the sea, comes the elemental force of chaos known collectively as the Cutie Mark Crusaders...

Cheerilee sighs through a resigned grin.

Even here in her home, which she had built up to be her fortress this evening, she can't escape them. Not even the princess could, judging from the sounds from the library floor which managed to sneak into the kitchen as Cheerilee rose, setting Twilight's little coffee pot on the stove and lighting the burner. Anytime the princess said anything, it was barely audible over a constant barrage of running commentary from the girls, not to mention the clatter of hyperactive hooves scampering to keep up with the princess' long strides.

"History of Equestria, histories of the gryphons, histories of...hmmm..."

She didn't need to actually see Celestia's face to know that it was currently occupied by a pleasant and indulgent expression; that much was evident just from her voice as she quietly murmured the section titles, her slow hoofbeats punctuating each declaration.

Ha! Even the princess has to think out loud to keep track of where she is when those three are nattering on and on behind her...

"So you're here to talk to Cheerilee, huh?" Scootaloo says, brightly.

"It certainly seems that way. Ah, why is the fiction over here...? Here we go, this is more the right track..."

A brief pause – one in which, Cheerilee realizes, the Crusaders almost certainly are looking from one to the other in what they think is a meaningful way – then Sweetie Belle says: "That's good, that's good..."

"Oh? You think so?"

Another pause. "Yeah."

"Why do you say that?"

Cheerilee, mouth drooping in dread, applies her left hoof directly to her face. Girls, for once in your lives, please think before you speak!

Some muttering ensues, in a couple different voices for whom whispering is obviously something of an untested skill. The words "distracted" and "kind of sad" crop up a few times.

The princess' hoofbeats stop. "Is that so?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm. Well, I'll keep that in mind," she adds, in the distracted, but polite tones of somepony whose mind is in six places at once.

"We're just, you know, a little worried about her."

Cheerilee rolls her eyes. If you were willing to swallow "their hearts were in the right place" as an excuse for the things those three got up to, they were practically angels.

"That's very thoughtful of you," Celestia replies, smoothly, before making a satisfied little sound. "Ah, here we are! I knew Twilight wouldn't let any library under her watch go without a copy of Wild Walker and Featherbrain's Exciting Wildlife of Equestria. She was so upset when Spike drooled on the copy she had when she was younger..."

In chorus, the Crusaders made the half-disgusted, half-delighted "Ewwwwww!" of three fillies who, while finding something a little gross, are also already planning to never let Spike forget about it as long as he lived.

Whatever the princess said next was lost on Cheerilee as the coffee pot began to boil violently, threatening to tip over entirely. Cursing under her breath, Cheerilee carefully leapt forward to steady it and killed the burner, grabbing the first two mugs she could find and pouring two full cups of steaming, black coffee on a serving tray.

As she slowly and carefully backed through the kitchen door onto the library floor, balancing the tray on her back, she heard the three girls chattering excitedly as Celestia read to them from the book.

"...and are usually strictly territorial, with the notable exception of mothers watching over their kittens."

Kittens?

Cheerilee's eyebrow raises. For something from Exciting Wildlife of Equestria, that didn't sound very exciting at all.

Well, there is Opalescence, she supposes, but since Wild Walker and Featherbrain were now Granny Smith's age, it seemed unlikely they'd run into Rarity's cat when they'd done their field research for this book.

Maybe a mountain lion – but weren't baby lions usually called cubs?

What else has kittens...? I seem to recall there was something...absurd...

Wait, aren't m–

Her eyes go wide as her jaw drops.

The princess can't see this, of course, so she continues, in her mild tone: "I suppose I should ask, though: why are you three researching baby manticores?"

A brief refrain of ums and ahs, then:

"School project?"

Cheerilee spins on her hooves, letting the tray spill. As she rounds the corner at speed, she sees Celestia's horn light with magic to catch them, her face finally expressing something other than a polite but cool smile. Now it is alert and cautious, stunned by Cheerilee's sudden action and readily apparent fury.

What have you three done this time? I'm going to give you detention so hard your grandfoals will be sitting in the corner until they're eighty!

The three sheepish fillies chuckle nervously as they clutch together in terror.

"What school project?!" Cheerilee snarls.

"Aheh," Apple Bloom manages.

And then, as if on cue, an ear-splitting scream fills the library, spilling in through the little open window left for Twilight's owl to return.

It is followed, after just a moment, by an enthusiastic roar.

Which is itself followed by five or six more.

Cheerilee and the princess glance up at each other, then turn ferocious looks on the Crusaders.

"Start talking," they say in unison.

More roars and screams cut through the night.

"Kids these days, I tell ya," Scootaloo mumbles, between terrified chuckles.

"They sure do grow up fast, don't you think?" Sweetie Belle adds.

About the ensuing hours, all that need be said is this:

The mommy manticore seemed very happy to have all five kittens back – especially the three female kittens which, though smaller and unable to fly like the males, had gotten old enough to start breathing little bursts of bright blue fire.

Just another exciting evening in Ponyville.

Cheerilee gives her three favorite pupils a bright smile, sweet as arsenic. "So, what have we learned?"

The library is slightly more full now, but not quite so popular as it had been while the kittens were out playing. As ever, in a crisis everypony seemed to regard it as a place of safety and central authority and/or the source of the problem in the first place, so it had sort of become the de facto crisis management center of Ponyville. Now that all the excitement seemed to be over they were leaving in little packs of twos and threes, chatting animatedly about how this most recent madness had actually been sort of fun, relatively speaking, and how nice it had been to see Princess Celestia again.

Now all that's left are the Crusaders, who sit in rapt, terrified attention on the library floor, and the three unlucky ponies who – after some hoof-twisting – grudgingly admitted to more or less being responsible for them. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity glower down irritably at the three fillies, although they occasionally take the time to glance up nervously at Cheerilee and the princess, grinning helplessly.

Cheerilee glances out the window as she waits for an answer. It has finally become quiet enough in the library that it is possible to hear Lyra and Bon Bon bickering as they tried to revive the unconscious mayor out in the plaza, where she had fainted on a park bench when a pair of manticore kittens tried to use her as a pouncing toy.

"Well?" she asks the six faces in front of her, which are staring at her in mild horror.

The princess clears her throat politely. Cheerilee looks up at her, and Celestia pats the side of her luminous mane a couple times.

"Hmm? Oh," Cheerilee says, patting out the little fire in her pink curls. It seemed to refuse to want to stay out, which would have freaked her out just a few short months ago – but then, living anywhere near Twilight Sparkle's basement lab taught you a great deal about magical fires being difficult to completely extinguish very quickly. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

The six figures in front of them swallow, nervously.

Cheerilee sighs. "Let's do a simple, repeat-after-me exercise. Okay? Ready?"

"Ready," the Crusaders squeak.

"Manticores are wild animals, not pets."

"Manticores are wild animals, not pets," the girls intone.

"Good, girls, good!" Cheerilee exclaims in a voice that suggested they'd just gotten perfect marks on a spelling test. "Now: The Everfree Forest is not a pet shop, and if I ever go there again, I promise to get eaten by something scaly instead of bringing it home –"

"Now, now, that's not a promise we can ask them to keep," Celestia interrupts, but she's suppressing a chuckle.

Cheerilee rubs her chin with a hoof, thoughtfully, never letting her gaze move from the three little demons in front of her. "I suppose you're right. Not everything there that might eat them has scales."

The princess purses her lips and nods, as if this was an interesting thought which hadn't occurred to her. "Quite so."

The Crusaders blanch – and this is impressive, considering that two of them have pretty pale coats to start out with.

Rarity starts to say something – undoubtedly something very apologetic and polite – but Applejack and Rainbow Dash nudge her simultaneously, giving her a dirty look telling her to keep her mouth shut before turning frantically placating expressions back to the princess and schoolteacher.

Cheerilee can almost hear their frantic thoughts: please don't kill us please don't kill us please don't kill us –

Celestia steps forward, lowering her head to speak to the Crusaders on more or less equal level. "All joking aside –"

"Who's joking?" Cheerilee mutters, slightly louder than was necessary to say this to herself.

The princess just smiles, her eyes twinkling. "All joking aside, I want to ask you three to stay out of the forest. It's dangerous, both for you and the wildlife, as everypony in Ponyville can tell us after tonight. Agreed?"

The three fillies nod vigorously.

"I understand why you brought the kittens home," Celestia continues. "They must have seemed very cute, and very lonely without their mother. But I think we've had an object lesson in zoology."

Scootaloo clears her throat. "I guess manticores are more like crocodiles than lions, huh?"

There is a moment of extended silence, where everypony stares at her, completely mystified – even, to Cheerilee's mild surprise, the princess.

The little orange pegasus looks around herself blankly for a while, before she huffs and begins waving her hooves wildly. "You know – they, like, they make a nest, right, and then they leave the babies there, sort of hidden, while they go hunt for food. And, you know, you'd think they'd be like lions, because they sort of look like lions but they're not lions, because lions are social animals and also they don't live in Equestria. Well, they used to, but –"

"Stop, stop, stop," Rainbow Dash says. "Not that I'm, you know, mad or anything, but where'd you get all this?"

"From books, obviously," Scootaloo says, before huffing again and continuing in a slightly more petulant mumble. "I'm allowed to know things. It's like, everypony seems so surprised for some reason? I know about all kinds of stuff. I'm smart."

"Oh yeah?" Dash says, before darting her head forward and grabbing one of Scootaloo's ears in her teeth. "If you're so smart, why're you here gettin' yelled at by the princess, huh?"

"Ow ow ow, leggoame!"

"Rainbow Dash, that's enough," the princess says, after a moment or two longer than was maybe absolutely necessary. "I don't think I've been yelling, incidentally."

"Ah could start, if'n ya wanted, Princess," Applejack says, giving her little sister a fierce glare. Her hat, which Cheerilee has not seen her without in years, is noticeably singed in several places. "Ah got a whole burned-down shed fulla yellin' Ah could do."

The princess gives her a smile. "A shed which they've promised to help you rebuild, as I recall."

Applejack rolls her eyes, obviously only slightly assuaged. "Yeah, Ah know..."

"Will that be before or after they help me re-organize all my sewing equipment after the...kittens found my yarn and string, this evening?" Rarity adds, to the general misery of the Crusaders. "If they're good, I might take pity on them and re-shelve all nine hundred and sixty-five spools – in order – myself. If they're very good."

"Ladies, ladies," Celestia says, chuckling. "I think our young friends have gotten the picture. They know they're in trouble."

As one pony, the Crusaders, faces deadly serious, nod one, grave nod.

Cheerilee sighs through a weary grin. "You know, it never seems to last."

"It never does, with some ponies," Celestia says, giving the three adults a somewhat longer glance than she needed to. The three young mares chuckle nervously – Celestia doesn't show up only for the Crusaders' antics, after all...

"Ah suppose you'll want a letter about what we learned, huh, princess," Apple Bloom says, a little mournfully. "Dear Princess Celestia –"

The princess chuckles as she stands up straight and proud again, every inch the merciful princess. "I think we can forego that, this time. I'll do my best to remember, I promise."

"But she's not me, you know? You'll each be writing an essay for me about it to read to the class," Cheerilee says, giving the Crusaders a smug grin as they groan.

Princess Celestia laughs brightly. "I see that you three have a lot of work ahead of you in the next few days, so I think we'd better not keep you up all night telling you how much trouble you're in. I hope the next time we see each other will be under very different circumstances!"

And with that, the conversation is over. The Crusaders and their unlucky minders file out of the front door having a brief, one-sided discussion on a theme of "you three are just lucky the princess happened to be here while Twilight was away, or who knows what would have happened!"

Cheerilee trots slowly behind them, her face split with a mild smile that she is surprised to realize is more or less honest. Somehow, it's impossible to stay mad at those three – or maybe she's just too forgiving after all, like Lyra has always said.

But then Lyra had said that very same thing about getting back together with Twilight, so that just shows what she knew. There's no fault in being forgiving...

Still, it's so strange how sometimes – especially after these little on-point, 'you're in trouble but the important thing is you learned your lesson' lectures – she feels like she exists solely to facilitate and clean up after the Crusaders' latest mayhem, knowing full well that she'd do so again the next time, which was undoubtedly only a few weeks in the future. They may have learned this lesson, but they had quite a few more left to go.

She's so distracted by this rumination that the door closing in her face startles her. She can't help but yelp a little and stumble backwards, falling on her rump.

A chuckle fills the sudden silence of the library. "Lost in thought?"

The evening's activities have been such that Cheerilee doesn't even think about who said this, because it isn't on her mind anymore – she just replies, as if it had been anypony in the world speaking to her. As if it were Spike, or Bon Bon, or Twilight...

"You know, I've lived here in Ponyville for very nearly my entire life," she mutters, staring at the door. "It used to be such a quiet little place. When I went to college, I used to call it boring. It's a little strange how used to this kind of thing everypony has gotten."

"I don't know about everypony. There was a lot of screaming and running around going on, but you –"

"I have always suffered from an exaggerated reputation for keeping a calm head in a crisis, even as a filly. I can't imagine why. But..."

She shrugs.

Somepony has to do it or everything would go crazy every day!

"Then Ponyville is fortunate. That's an excellent quality in a teacher."

Unthinking, Cheerilee turns to look at her companion. "Or in a –"

Her voice freezes in her throat for a second.

"Or in a princess," she finishes, staring up at the radiant figure she'd been raised to obey since she was born. She feels herself cringe.

Oh, heavens...

The princess' eyes move over Cheerilee's features, slowly and carefully. Somehow her calm smile doesn't move even a little, even as it very obviously fades. Strange, that...

"We were doing so well, for a while," she says, sighing with what sounds like legitimate regret.

Cheerilee tries to smile, to apologize, but she has a distant feeling that all she's managing to do is make her lip tremble pathetically.

Princess Celestia looks away from her for a moment, glancing out a window at the veil of stars twinkling in the heavens.

It's almost as if something has let go of Cheerilee, unfreezing her muscles and warming the numbness in her extremities. She gasps for a deep breath of air, desperately, feeling completely foolish.

She snaps her head forward, staring at the grain of the door as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

They had been doing well, up ‘til now...

But then, manticores had a way of making things like the specific identity of your companion irrelevant such that, for example, you might be inclined to physically tackle her out of the way of a playfully-lobbed gout of flame she had appeared not to notice. And you might do this even though your conscious mind had previously watched such flames bounce harmlessly off her, or play across her coat and snuff themselves out like a little puddle of grease, leaving not even the tiniest mark behind.

At that point the conscious mind is not as in charge as it usually is. Manticores, of any size, are very distracting.

Perhaps you might even – because, again, you weren't thinking quite clearly because, e.g. manticores – have a lengthy and sarcastic banter back and forth while dealing with the situation, since your companion seems to find the creatures amusing or cute and is subtly praising the Cutie Mark Crusaders' willingness to look beyond the wings and scorpion tails and take care of what they had thought were abandoned baby creatures. Which, in fairness, might be a worthy thing in general, but in specific was burning Ponyville to the ground. Again.

For example, upon finding Rarity shrieking in a mix of rage and terror as two young manticores (and Opalescence, who seemed to like having playmates) tore through her meticulously-arranged inventory of yarn and string:

"You see? Just kittens, really."

"Except kittens usually aren't as big as a grown stallion! That sort of changes the situation more than a little, don't you think?"

"If they were, perhaps cats would be considered some kind of dangerous animal as well. I think there's a word for it, in fact..."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, of course, but I believe it's 'tiger'."

It was amazing how it was so calming to have somepony to talk to when you're wrangling manticores and/or fashionistas.

But now the manticore family had long since slunk back into the Everfree Forest, the Cutie Mark Crusaders had been properly educated on the brief version of Equestrian law regarding exotic pets ("don't touch that, it'll eat you") and their very distracting presence was no longer, in fact, an issue.

Which leaves little Ponyville's schoolteacher – at her own request – face to face with nopony less than the immortal Sun Princess of Equestria.

Well, back to face, at the moment, but still –

Wasn't this what I wanted in the first place?

Relevant follow up: am I completely insane?

Cheerilee closes her eyes for a moment.

Dig your hooves in, little mare...

They sit in silence for a long moment. Cheerilee notices that there's a little sprig of life managing to grow in a crack – isn't that interesting, she'd have to tell Twilight when she got back from –

"This does not have to be a confrontation, Cheerilee."

The teacher in the young earth pony is impressed. There's no sound, no tone, no inflection that makes this a command; and yet, she knows it is a directive, not an offer. There's a skill to that – it occurs that the Crusaders represented a major test of this ability in anypony, and Cheerilee's still working on it.

She stiffens, to resist the urge to turn and...

And what?

Bow?

She straightens up, sighing out as much stress as possible. "Maybe not for you."

"Ah," the princess says, her voice hushed.

Then she says nothing more.

The only sound may as well be the throb of Cheerilee's heart; but the younger mare doesn't make the error of trying to fill the space.

It's peaceful, in a way, but...

"I see I'm going to have to be very careful with you, Cheerilee," Celestia says, in a tone of voice that suggests she's actually rather pleased. "You seem to know how to deal with other ponies."

"If you don't know the little tricks to help control a classroom or a parent-teacher conference, you aren't much of a teacher," Cheerilee says, treasuring the little flame of pride that flares to life in her chest as she says this.

"I suppose that's quite true," the princess replies, evenly. "Something our mutual friend has yet to learn, I think. She gets so frustrated with ponies talking over one another..."

Cheerilee can't help but grin. "I hope it wasn't you who taught her to yell like that."

“Oh, no, that is pure talent.”

They laugh together...again. They have been doing so all night, so it's an easy reflex, like falling into step automatically – although admittedly it's a little more hesitant than it has been at this particular moment.

Heavens above, this is hard. She's way too easy to get along with!

But...that's the point, isn't it? She wasn't before...

It's Celestia who speaks first, her long, slow hoofbeats meandering over to a window somewhere behind Cheerilee.

"You lied on the invitation," she says, in a matter-of-fact tone that was carefully clean of accusation.

Cheerilee stiffens a little. "I did, yes. Intentionally."

"Why?"

"Honestly?"

A pause – a breath, a heartbeat...

"Of course I would prefer the truth."

She doesn't mean to sigh so desperately, but somehow Cheerilee's body knows better than the mare herself how long it can hold a tense, anxious breath. "Because...I didn't think you'd come if it was just me asking."

Privately, internally, Cheerilee growls.

I had to lure you here somehow. If you're even a little like Twilight, curiosity and suspicion own you. And there's no way that unicorn would grow into the mare she has if you hadn't encouraged her...

"I see." The princess takes a few slow breaths – Cheerilee has an idea she's smiling out at passersby, just for something to keep herself occupied as she thinks of what to say. "You're not exactly what I expected. In my experience, teachers are rarely this...devious."

"What did you expect?"

Ah, now we're getting into dangerous territory.

There's no reply for quite a while. Again, Cheerilee is struck with the strange sensation of being alone with somepony very intelligent thinking very hard and not doing much else – there's a nagging sense of absence, like there ought to be a mechanical clicking or whirring to fill the silence.

Twilight gave off that sense sometimes. She'd just stop, in the middle of what she was doing, and suddenly stare off at nothing in particular, lost in thought, sandwich hanging in midair or whatever.

A comforting, familiar thought. A star momentarily shining through a cloudy night sky.

"She said it to you, too, didn't she," Cheerilee whispers.

"Hm?" The princess has clearly been pulled out of some thought, but she's not the only active party in this conversation, after all.

No, no, I'm getting ahead of myself. Er...

"She told you about me."

"Of course –"

"How much?"

"Not as much as I might like," the princess says, clearly mildly annoyed at being interrupted. There's a heavy suggestion that she's now much more curious about the young mare attached to her faithful student than she had been before. "What is it you think she told me?"

Just remembering it...

It doesn't hurt, the same way some things in Cheerilee's life have hurt. But it's hard to think about, upsetting in a "tight chest and a grimace" way rather than "makes you want to cry".

"'She reminds me of you'," Cheerilee says.

She's actually rather proud of how evenly it comes out, considering.

"I –" the princess begins, then stops.

Well, well, never thought I'd strike the princess speechless.

It'd almost be an accomplishment if she were herself confident in her ability to say anything while retaining any sense of dignity.

But speak she must. This had to be a confrontation, she had to put herself in this position, she had to get in the thick of it...because whatever she or anypony else thought, that's where she was.

This whole elaborate setup, accidental manticores included, was just being open about the truth of things.

She could run away from it...or she could dig her hooves in.

Cheerilee clears her throat. "Our last meeting was, er...very hard for me. It was going to be no matter how it happened."

"Twilight did tell me your life has not been without...personal hardship..."

The princess trails off, again filling the library with the busy silence of her thoughts.

After a moment:

"Your cutie mark," the princess says. "It doesn't mean exactly what you tell everypony, does it."

Cheerilee smiles. It's nice to speak to somepony who doesn't need their hoof held through a conversation...

She sighs, and lets her mind roll back, through time and troubles.

"I've always lived in Ponyville. I was born here, raised here, and even as a filly, I –"

"Anyways, who died an' made you the boss of me?" Mac snorts.

Even though it'll be years before anypony calls him Big Mac as anything but a joke, Cheerilee has to look up at him. It makes her feel completely ridiculous – and worse, her head barely pokes out above the tall white flowers of the field, as if Macintosh's dumb mutant height wasn't bad enough. But she stares down – er, up at – the gangly red colt regardless.

"Macintosh, don't be an idiot," she growls. "If you try to go into the Everfree Forest again, I'm going right back to your mom and dad to tell."

Behind her brother, a very young Applejack cringes. Them, as Mac would say, are fightin' words.

Mac rolls his eyes. "Ugh...yer so boring, Cheerilee. We were just gonna go in fer a little while, nothin' serious. Run around, maybe find some wild strawberries or somethin'. I done it tons o'times, never got et yet."

"What about the time you fell in the stream and hurt your hoof?" Cheerilee snaps. "Or the time you came back covered in those huge bug bites? Or the time that – "

"Yeah, yeah, ya made yer point," he grumbles. "C'mon, AJ."

The little orange filly gives Cheerilee a sheepish look as she scuttles after her brother.

Cheerilee watches them go, frowning hugely in case that big idiot decides to look and see if she's following him.

Which she is, of course.

Sometimes she feels like a jerk, ruining all the other foals' fun – but only sometimes. The rest of the time she feels like the only sane one among them, and that if she weren't there to catch them, they'd wander all over the place and do nothing but get into trouble. As it was, every time Mac got into a mess and hurt himself or whatever, she felt a huge sense of shame, as if she had some kind of responsibility to him.

The big idiot.

She's here to watch out for other ponies, help them stay safe and grow. That's what makes her feel good – like when she helps the librarian stock the shelves, or when she helps her mom with lessons at school. So what if the other ponies think she's a little boring? She's just trying to help.

She likes being there when other ponies need her, even if they don't really realize it. She's still young enough that she mistakes being bossy for being in charge, but...

That's not a crime, right?

Right.

She'll grow up. Everypony does. The point is she knows that what she truly loves is being able to be there for the ponies who need her, to share what strength and wisdom she can with them, mend their bruises and hurts, and send them back out into the world to cause more havoc.

And as the three young ponies re-enter the more manicured parts of Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack notices that six of the white flowers have followed Cheerilee out of the meadow, emblazoned on her flanks.

"What...me?"

Big Mac – and my, doesn't he deserve that name now – looks from side to side theatrically before turning a huge grin on Cheerilee. "Well Ah don't see any other young mares around, so...yeah, must be you."

The midsummer night sky over Ponyville twinkles down on them. In the distance, the sound of the big party can be heard from the plaza at the center of town. Cheerilee generally avoided that sort of thing, since it was loud and annoying and she always felt a little out of place and nopony actually ever, uh, wanted to dance with her.

...until now, it seemed.

Cheerilee peers at him. "But you...like, hate me."

"Aw, well, I dunno about hate," Mac mumbles. "Sure, ya read too much and yer always bossin' me around, but, uh..."

"But, uh...what?"

Mac slumps. "But my gramma smacked me over the head and said, 'why d'you think she's always chasin' after you, ya great lummox?' An' then she said that, uh, Ah should be thankin' my lucky stars anypony cares even half that much for a half-wit cowpoke like myself an', uh..."

One of Cheerilee's ears flaps in irritation. This resembles the way her mother is forever teasing her in a truly eerie way.

It's not that she likes Mac. She's just...used to him, you know? She'd known him all her life.

They'd had some really good times together – and some kind of bad ones, too, so it's not like they're best friends or anything! Don't get all mushy about this!

She sort of felt responsible for him, was all. She didn't like seeing him hurt. Everypony else just saw a big, dumb stallion who talks half as much as he thinks, but she knew him better than that. She knew that deep down, he's honest and hard-working and cares about his family more than anything. He's a good pony and he deserves to be treated right.

That's all.

"Oh," she says. "I see."

Mac looks away, and –

How is it even possible for him to blush?

"Ah...well, Ah did some thinkin' on it, an' Ah figure...I could do a lot worse'n somepony who's always been there for me, even when I'm bein' a bit thick."

"So what – always?"

They share a nervous laugh at this tired old joke, but her traitor brain grins, saying: Miss Cheerilee, I do believe this is a cliché.

"Cheerilee, either come back in or go out," her mother calls from the kitchen, in a tone of voice that barely concealed a huge grin. "Don't just stand there in the doorway with your mouth hanging open, you're letting in a draft."

Mac gives her a look. The kind every young mare in Ponyville of an inquiring mindset privately wishes he'd give them.

Parts of Cheerilee want to run, hide, not indulge the very urgent thoughts currently presenting themselves, not all of which were located in her brain. Go back to your room, they said. It's quiet there, and you can catch up on your reading. Canterlot University doesn't accept you just for wanting to go there.

But suddenly that seems less appealing than it usually does. For some reason.

Curiosity, maybe.

Yeah, that's it.

"Well, all right," she says, playing at a growl. "Maybe one dance won't kill me. And Bon Bon will be there, so I suppose I'll have somepony else to talk to."

Mac grins.

"But just the one dance, got it?" she says, as she shuts the door behind her with a decisive kick, fully intending never to open it again.

They do it in the barn.

The house is too quiet now, and they'd be caught. Applejack and Apple Bloom are still a bit too young to hear about what sort of mischief young stallions and mares can get into if they're left alone for too long – and worse than that, Granny Smith might make suggestions.

Cheerilee's breathing is beginning to slow down now, as her body settles from the delightful throes of orgasm. The hastily-piled hay scratches at her back, but she barely notices; her body is still focusing on the soreness caused by...receiving Mac.

Heavens, no, don't think of it that way!

Of making love to Mac.

But there's a part of her that cannot lie to herself.

The same part keeps talking, despite her sudden intense desire to shut it up, ignore it, cast it out. It says: he doesn't even look at me afterward. He barely comes around to meet me, I have to go find him –

He's a busy stallion these days, now that Ma and Pa Apple are gone –

Not until harvest he's not. He spends half his time just sitting out in the fields

He's working

And the other half chasing after any mare who looks at him twice

That was just the one time

Three times, be honest, so what if I caught him before things got too far along

He apologized

At least I get that much from him

"Mac?" she whispers.

He turns to her. He'd been staring up at the ceiling. "Hm?"

"I love you," she says.

And the terrible thing is...she really, really does.

Just...breathe. Maintain. Keep walking...

Don't start crying like some lovesick filly. You're a grown earth pony, not one of those wilting unicorn maidens from those old courtly romances...

The door opens and Cheerilee tries to sneak in, unnoticed. She'll slip up to her room, and –

Something.

Anything.

But alas:

"Cheerilee!" Bon Bon shouts, almost pouncing on top of her into a great big hug. "Oh, heavens, where'd you run off to?"

"Wha – "

Cheerilee's mother appears from the kitchen, holding a slim letter in an uneasy grin. The ribbons on the wax seal are –

Red and white.

"Fillydelphia," Cheerilee says, staring.

Bon Bon pulls away to give Cheerilee a huge smile. "I got mine, too! They want us to go there for orientation next week! And there's a form, we can be roommates – "

"Yeah, Bon Bon, that sounds...yeah. Great."

The other young mare blinks, her smile fading, and backs away slightly so that Cheerilee's mother could put a hoof on her daughter's shoulder. It was supposed to be a gesture of comfort, maybe, but it feels like she's being nailed to something.

"Cheerilee, honey, I know you wanted to go to Canterlot, but that's just not...it wasn't...you didn't..."

She looks away, politely not attacking her daughter with the harsh lash of the truth.

Cheerilee is not so kind to herself.

But I didn't get the application materials in quite on time. I was lucky they even reviewed them.

But I didn't do as well on the tests as I could have because I was up at Sweet Apple Acres every night that week instead of studying, and went into the exam on three hours sleep, my whole body still sore from being with...with...him. Trying to make him feel something.

But I wasn't...wasn't...

"I wasn't good enough," Cheerilee murmurs, lip trembling.

Bon Bon swallows – and even in the throes of today, Cheerilee knows she's biting back hurt. She's always been really upset that her only other mare friend who was going to college wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere more prestigious. They'd even had a fight about it, and it had taken every ounce of self-control she had for Cheerilee not to accuse her friend of being happy she was rejected...

Cheerilee's mother shakes her head. "No, honey, you know that's not true. And look, Fillydelphia is a wonderful city, very old, lots of history – and your father went to school there, he had nothing but good things to say about it – "

"That's not it," Bon Bon whispers, interrupting the stream of platitudes. "It's about Mac, isn't it. Something's happened..."

Cheerilee feels put on the spot – on stage – as her mother pulls away, eyes wide with sudden shock.

Time to put on a show. Express herself. Weep, cry, make a scene, let it all out –

But all that comes is a hollow, empty bark of a sob.

"I wasn't good enough," she manages to croak. "He needed – I – he – ah..."

Suddenly they're both there, hugging her, shushing her, rubbing her back and telling her it'll be alright.

But among the sympathies is:

"It's for the best."

Cheerilee throws her hooves wildly, tossing the other two ponies off of her, howling with rage.

"Don't you understand?! That's what he said, too!"

Again she's in the house she grew up in, with two other mares – but she's much, much older now. Only a few years older, maybe, but what's time got to do with the price of apples?

"You have got to be kidding me," Lyra says, staring at her in utter disbelief.

Cheerilee just swallows, staring out the front window like she did on winter days like this when she was a foal. Just watching snow fall from the sky, ever so gently. Just breathing, and watching, and existing.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Lyra shakes her head, shrugging off Bon Bon's attempt to calm her with a little restraining hoof on the shoulder. "Let me get this perfectly straight. I mean, I've known you for what, three years now? And let me tell you, it's like watching a trainwreck go on in slow bucking motion. First there was the partying – Bon Bon's told me all those horror stories from when you were roommates, the ones you didn't tell me yourself. Then there was that professor, what's his name? Like, ignoring how weird that was, he cheated on you constantly and then got nailed when one of them turned out to be underage? Then there was bucking Green Hoof. Mister I'm Going To Use Cheerilee As a Maid While I Sit Around Getting High With My Idiot Friends – "

Bon Bon raises a hoof, looking uneasy. "Lyra, that's – "

"What? That's enough?" the unicorn snaps, her tone softening only slightly to speak to her lady friend. "Bon Bon, she needs to hear this. We're her friends – well, I try to be, anyways. But that's hard when we barely ever see her because she's working two jobs, doing a double-major, passing a six month teaching internship, and cleaning up after a bunch of stoners who spend what little rent money they bother to make on dreamleaf and junk food every bucking month – "

"Lyra!" Bon Bon shouts.

It's so strange to hear Bon Bon's voice raised in anything but joy that it actually moves Cheerilee from her weird, empty serenity. She turns a dull gaze on her two friends – her only two friends, really – and sees an equally rare sight: Lyra looking even a little humbled.

"I'm just saying – "

"Go home."

"Bon, I'm just – "

"Go. Home."

Cheerilee's eyes listlessly follow Lyra as she slinks out of Cheerilee's mothers' house. The unicorn bothers to give her a grumpy glare as she steps out into the cold.

Bon Bon watches her go through the little window in the door before turning to Cheerilee, not looking much happier than Lyra. "Macintosh, Cheerilee? Are you out of your mind?"

Cheerilee looks away, staring out at the grey sky again.

"We haven't been back three days and you're already chasing after Mac, of all the stallions in Ponyv – "

"I just wanted to see how he was doing."

Bon Bon pauses, shocked for a moment, maybe even tempted to be generous and believe this carefully worded half-truth; but before long she settles into a frown again. "You know how he's been doing. Applejack told you how he's been doing, and a long list of with whom he's been doing it, and more to the point, gave you some good advice to keep your distance."

"I've been his friend – "

"He's not the same pony we knew. There's something...wrong with him. He's worse than he ever was now. Something you can't help by – "

Cheerilee's head snaps to Bon Bon, who actually recoils from the ferocity of her gaze.

But to the other mare's credit, she rallies immediately and tries to say her two bits anyways. "Letting him sleep with you is not going to – "

"He wouldn't even touch me," Cheerilee hisses.

Oh, heavens, I'm going to cry...

As always, Bon Bon is there to catch her when she's falling, literally and figuratively. Warm hooves catch her and there's a shoulder which is probably permanently sodden with her tears ready and waiting for another torrent.

She lets herself cry for awhile. It was going to happen anyways, and at least this way, somepony was hugging her.

"Lyra's right, you know," Bon Bon whispers between the sobs, stroking Cheerilee's back. "She's angry because she cares about you, but doesn't know how to make you understand. You've been there for both of us so many times, and we love you so much. It kills her to see you letting yourself be taken advantage of."

"I just...I just want to help!"

"Shhh...I know, Cheerilee. I know. You really do have a thing for charity cases. But..." Bon Bon shakes her head. "Sometimes ponies just can't be helped. Or don't want to be helped, I don't know...you have to wait for the ones who are worth it. Who deserve your help..."

Cheerilee pounds a listless hoof against her friend's chest. "Everypony deserves help."

"No, you're right. But you're just one mare, honey. You can't do everything."

“Yes! Yes I can! I'm better than this. I can do it. I used to be able to...

Bon Bon pulls away so she can give Cheerilee a long, sad look. "Heavens above...you really believe that, don't you..."

"Yes!"

"Well...we're back in Ponyville," Bon Bon says, with a heavy sigh. "Your mom's retiring and giving you the school job, right?"

Cheerilee sniffles and nods. Bon Bon nudges her so that they're just lying next to each other, backs propped up against a couch.

"You're going to have a bunch of little ponies who will need you to be there for them. Focus on that."

Cheerilee stares out at the snow for awhile, not really thinking about anything.

"Yeah."

"And as far as...you know, other adults..."

"What?"

Bon Bon gives her a sad smile. "You have a serious thing for charity cases, hon. Serious, like – like, so you are one, now."

They laugh, weakly, and Bon Bon takes a maroon hoof into her own.

“Focus on Cheerilee. Be Miss Cheerilee, the schoolteacher, sweet and kind and always there, just like your mom was for us when we were young.”

"Okay."

Bon Bon squeezes the hoof and smiles. "You have so much to give. I've always admired how strong you are. But wait for somepony who deserves it. Somepony who both needs and wants you."

And while Cheerilee grins and agrees...privately, she knows she's going to be waiting a long, long time.

Not even Mac wanted her anymore.

The sounds of the princess shifting anxiously behind her barely register on Cheerilee's attention. She throws her head back, tears flowing freely down her face as she smiles hugely.

"And that's how I was when, a few years later...I met her. And everything...happened...until that day. That wonderful day..."

She let go.

Cheerilee can hardly believe it. She stares at the freed hoof, which still aches a bit from how desperately Twilight had been clinging to it.

"You should go. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

She wants to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness.

How is this – pushing her away – the most loving thing anypony has ever done for her?

It's for your own good.

Oh, heavens above...

She can see Twilight Sparkle's heart breaking in front of – no. That's not quite right.

She can see Twilight Sparkle breaking her own heart because she absolutely doesn't want to hurt Cheerilee anymore.

I don't deserve this.

She doesn't.

She'd gotten scared, caused a dumb fight because...of stupid, petty, small reasons. Every time she thought about it since, she'd wanted to slam her head against a wall until one of the two caved in.

I didn't deserve it when Mac did it, either. I didn't help him. I couldn't – I...

She's been here before. With Green Hoof – she'd tried to leave him, so many times. Lyra and Bon Bon would try to get her to leave him for months and months, and once she worked up the nerve he always begged and pleaded and promised to do better. And he would, for a week or so, but then it would all start over again...

But he never even thought of letting her go. Never thought: am I hurting Cheerilee...?

"Do you really love me?" she asks. She wants to hear it.

Green Hoof had never really loved her. He left her when he realized she wouldn't follow him back to Trottingham to be his live-in servant after college. She'd been smart enough in the end to know the engagement ring he waved in her face may as well have been shackles.

Meanwhile, Lyra gave up a life of comfort and ease in Canterlot just to stay with her Bon Bon. That was love.

And so is this. Oh, heavens, so is this.

"More than anything," Twilight gasps. Her eyes are wet with desperate tears, and Cheerilee can almost hear her mind pleading to be trusted and believed.

"Look me in the eye, and – "

"I love you!"

What strange hell does Cheerilee live in where letting go is the way ponies show they love her...?

"If I give you this chance..." she whispers, trailing off as she feels more and more ridiculous trying to hold out.

"I'll only need the one. I promise."

Deep down, something whispers that she'll just be disappointed again –

But she's surprised to find that it's not the part of her that always knew Mac was drifting. No – it's the part of her that refused to believe it.The part that is now so beaten and hurt that it has, in the depths of her despair, used her mouth to say that there's no such thing as love, and that's she's always been an idiot for believing otherwise.

The cynical part of her, the part that refused to face anything but the truth says:

If anypony deserves it, she does.

And the sex is just incredible, so...

"I'm so stupid," she says, but that's not really to Twilight. "I just can't say no..."

"You won't regret it this time. I promise," Twilight says, crushing her in a hug.

They pull apart, just slightly, so they can stare deeply into each other's eyes, both weeping with joy.

"I love you, Twilight Sparkle," Cheerilee says.

And the terrible thing—in the classical sense of terrible, which is to say both transcendentally joyous and overwhelming in its gravity—is that she really, really does.

Her throat is sore now.

That's fine. She's done talking for now; Cheerilee feels like she's been wrung out or squeezed empty. If she looked in a mirror, instead of the curves of a mature earth pony mare, there'd be a strung out, stick-like creature that was more bone than pony.

The princess is silent for a very long time. But whereas before she seemed preoccupied with thought to an almost physically oppressive degree, now she's just...not saying anything. Not doing anything.

Minutes drag on.

For the very first time in her entire life, Cheerilee wishes the Crusaders would burst in, screaming or laughing – or the very worst, looking pleased with themselves.

Hey, it worked before, didn't it?

"I have always found that it is one thing to accept the way things are," the princess says, suddenly, "and quite another to accept that they are supposed to be that way. And strangely, somehow, it is positive things that are the hardest to accept."

Cheerilee chuckles weakly. "Yes."

"Especially when your right to those things are...directly challenged."

"Yes. An in the past I've made the mistake of not...saying that. Not challenging it, in my mind. Not expressing it. But this time –"

There's enough left of Cheerilee's need to always be watching out for others in control of her brain that she felt a tremendous streak of shame for this display of...

Weakness. Vulnerability. For this glut of shameful admissions, this show of weakness, this –

For openly and intentionally telling Twilight Sparkle the truth.

But there was no escaping it anymore, not really. To deny it any longer would almost be like hiding from Twilight; lying to her. And now that she'd met Celestia, suffered that...it was all just out there to be said.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. But...I just...I..."

Twilight cradles her in her hooves, gently rocking her. She's crying, too – it's hard for her to listen to Cheerilee go on about her life at length in this way. "It's okay. I...well...I sort of..."

"What?"

"I mean, I knew things were hard for you, but...no, it's all over. It's okay. It's all over, now. I'm here. I love you."

"Oh, Twilight..." Cheerilee moans, swallowing a thickness in her throat borne of her mind rebelling against this.

Don't tell her this! Don't tell her how afraid you are, how you don't know if you're capable, how you've always considered yourself –

"I've failed so many ponies – I almost – "

"Don't say that," Twilight says, squeezing her. "You didn't and you haven't, Cheerilee, you have not."

Cheerilee presses a hoof to her beloved Twilight's lips and weakly shushes her. "Twilight, I have. Whether you think so or not, I think so. And that's important."

Twilight – oh, wonderful Twilight – closes her eyes and nods despite the pained grimace on her face.

"I love you, Twilight Sparkle," Cheerilee whispers. "But I...I kind of hate myself."

"You weren't even a pony to me that night," Cheerilee continues, speaking through a humiliated frown. This was hard enough with Twilight. "You were...everything I'm not. Everything I can't be. I'm not immortal, or magic, or even particularly calm in myself. You have always been there for her, no matter what, for her entire life; all I can do is my best for her...and it's amazing how that seems like it'll never be enough, with you there sitting over her."

The princess' wings fluff, almost silently. "I won't insult you with a pleasantry. But that leaves me with very little to say, except that I am sorry to cause you so much pain."

"Well...it's not really your fault." Cheerilee shrugs. "But...it's true, anyways."

"I'm still sorry."

"Thank you."

They pause, and the princess begins pacing slowly around the library behind Cheerilee, humming gently under her breath. Cheerilee closes her eyes and just listens, feeling drained. The sound was actually quite soothing, although strangely tuneless.

Eventually the princess stops pacing and takes a deep breath. "Can we continue this conversation face to face? As if we have any wits about us whatsoever?" she asks, in a tone of utterly false joviality – the strained, unhappy sort of sound of somepony expecting bad news.

Cheerilee's ears prick up.

If I thought things were hard before...

She's always been too smart for her own good.

That's always been part of the problem, why she gets neck-deep with ponies. She sees patterns. Stories, almost.

They're utterly compelling; when her mind puts them in order, she can't stop seeing them until she's proven wrong.

In Twilight's case, for example, she'd seen nothing but honest love and affection, as well as a partner who really understood what a good roll in the hay was meant to be like. To be honest, it had been confusing for her...at least, at first.

In Lyra, she saw a unicorn whose only emotional outlet was anger and frustration, because being raised in Canterlot by emotionally stunted unicorn nobility whose ideas of upbringing had more to do with teaching manners and ettiquette than expressing love and understanding was a recipe for madness.

In the Crusaders, honest hearts attached to an ambition and sense of purpose six times too large for their growing minds and bodies.

In Rarity, a nervous filly trying not to show that she feels overgrown in a mare's body.

In Mac, an absence she just couldn't seem to fill, no matter how hard she tried...

What she thought she knew about Celestia, now...

Mom always said I was so sharp I'd cut myself someday...

"Well, see, that's the thing," Cheerilee says, as calmly as she can manage. "Who am I going to see, when I turn around?"

The stillness of the moment is such that in order to tread water, Cheerilee's mind focuses on how wrong it is that quiet is associated with peace.

That's twice I've rendered her speechless, now. I wonder if there's a medal –

"I'm...not entirely sure I understand what you just said," the princess says, carefully.

Cheerilee sighs. "I don't think Twilight realized how hurtful comparing us would be – but then, she had no reason to. I didn't even really understand how deep my anger at myself went."

The princess says nothing.

Heavens, is she even breathing? Does she have to?

What am I doing? Am I insane? Why did I call her here? I'm going to ruin everything –

As if she'd called out for help, Mac's lazy smile appears in her memory—and ever so slowly spreads across her face.

"I was pretty messed up after that night. But I got some good advice from an old friend. He told me: dig your hooves in, little mare," she says, in a weak approximation of Mac's deep voice and accent. "Don't back down for anypony."

"Cheerilee, I really don't want to fight with you –"

"Are we fighting?"

To Cheerilee's relief, the princess snorts irritably. "From what you're saying, I have to assume you –"

"Princess, the pony I've needed to face my whole life is myself," Cheerilee says, as she mentally stamps on the parts of herself that were even now screeching at her to beg the princess' forgiveness. "I don't think Mac realized what I'd take from what he said, but Twilight definitely did."

"I would expect nothing less from her."

A bit colder than I might have expected from a doting teacher. Isn't that interesting...

"So I've been thinking a lot about things since then," Cheerilee continues. "Twi has been right there with me the whole time. And she's taken a lot of pains to make me understand that when she told me – told us – that we remind her of each other...it's all good things."

The princess' breathing is far, far too slow for a living thing, especially one her size.

Cheerilee pushes that aside – it's not actually important.

Maybe.

Ah, I love you Twilight, but you owe me so much for this, even if it goes wrong...

"But something about all of it troubled me," Cheerilee makes herself continue.

The princess sighs. "Forgive me if this seems...arrogant, but it's not a fair comparison for anypony –"

"Of course not, of course not. But think about it – how would she describe you? Like, not what traits, but as what?"

There is the slightest possible pause.

"As a teacher," the princess whispers.

Cheerilee grins.

We are on to something!

Now watch as it's one of Twilight's experiments gone wrong blowing up in my face...

Still, she's encouraged. Her voice is eager and excited, as if she's talking while running – she sort of is, really.

"The very same way my students describe me, in fact. Down to the word, sometimes, although because Twilight is Twilight, usually a much longer synonym. And it occurred to me to think about that, you know? How similar are we, really?"

The princess says nothing.

Cheerilee stares at the little plant growing from grit trapped in the crack in the door. What a precious little thing, struggling to grow in a hostile, frightening place...but the green stood out boldly against the worn wood. It was probably some kind of weed, but weeds are living things, too.

"I love teaching. It's very fulfilling for me, as my little, er, monologue there can probably tell you," Cheerilee says, a bit abashed. "But part of what's...necessary about it is that there's a structure. There are roles. I am the teacher and because I am the teacher, I have to be a little less than a pony. Do you know what I mean?"

"I think I have an idea," the princess says.

"Not quite a lie, right? There's just things I sort of keep to myself. Emotions, thoughts, impulses. I have to be in control; I have to always be trustworthy and gentle and nonthreatening to my students. And it means I have to be careful in the rest of my life, too – if a parent caught me drunk, or in Bon Bon's shop, it would hurt my credibility..."

"That would be the rather...exciting shop down the street from Sugar Cube Corner?"

"That's the one."

Oh, how Cheerilee wished she could see the princess' face just then...

"I see your point."

"So I have a lot of 'friends, but', if you know what I mean," Cheerilee says. "Friends, but I'm the schoolteacher, so I'm always friendly and polite, never use harsh language, am never out of control, don't have a sex life except when I'm at home having it, if you see what I mean. Friends, but when there's a crisis – manticores, for example – I resemble an authority figure, a voice that can be trusted to know what to do. And so on."

"Friends, but you're the teacher, so you're in charge..."

Celestia's voice is too reasonable, too even, too thoughtful, to be anything but under her absolute control.

"Exactly," Cheerilee says.

The princess adjusts herself, a strange sound of hooves and feathers moving very slightly. "What are you getting at?"

"I have been raised to worship you – we all are, in a sort of...quiet way," Cheerilee says. "I've read odes and sonnets and poems dedicated to you since I was able to. You're supposed to be above mortal concerns, beyond the little foibles of us poor brief creatures. Powerful, wise, beautiful...and you are. And that's how Twilight, who knows you as well as anypony in Equestria describes you –"

"In the same words your own students use to describe you, yes, I follow," Celestia says, with a very tiny hint of impatience. "What do you conclude from this?"

"Nothing," Cheerilee admits. It's true, after all. "I don't know. That's why I'm asking: who will I speak to, when I turn around?"

"You'll see me. There is nothing else to see."

Cheerilee's guts clench.

Here goes nothing...

"And who is that?" Cheerilee says. She has to force it out, so it's a little strangled, but it's still at least a little decisive. "I'll see Celestia, yes. But will it be Her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia of the Sun, who came in her majesty at the behest of a desperate subject – perfect, beautiful, untouchable? The immortal, wise creature who is above mortal concerns?"

"Who else –"

"Or – or, will it be the – the other mare?" Cheerilee manages, swallowing. "The one I only thought to suspect existed before tonight – but now, the one I know I was out chasing manticores with? The one who was making fun of me for not finding monsters the size of Big Mac cute? The mare who has to wear a crown, and hides parts of herself because that's what has to happen?"

For a long time there's nothing. No sound. No breathing, no shifting, no...anything.

Cheerilee has been afraid before. But this...

Dig your hooves in, little mare.

If this is going to go wrong, at least let it go completely wrong.

She clears her throat. "Because to be perfectly honest I think...I think that's the pony Twilight loves. The mare I remind her of. And...and I think..."

"What do you think?"

The princess' voice...

Again, too even. Too controlled. Too...perfect.

A tear slowly wanders down Cheerilee's face. She'd been in the middle of grading a spelling test when everything had clicked into place, and she'd had to take a long walk when she realized the immensity of it, because being out in public helps you hold yourself together a bit.

The idea was painful, and that she was never meant to know was a tragedy.

"I think that if what I suspect is true, I'm part of something that's hurting her. And I'd really, really, rather not be."

"And...how, exactly, are you hurting this mare, do you think?"

Cheerilee bites her lower lip. "When Twilight told me I remind her of you, what my mind heard is that I'm a version of her magical, immortal princess that can actually be touched. But when Twilight said that to this other mare...I think she heard..."

"Yes?"

Heavens above, it's terrifying. If what I'm saying is even remotely true, it's like listening to somepony dispassionately describe a doctor cutting off a limb with a bonesaw as it's happening...

“I think she heard that she was being...outgrown. Replaced.”

Silence.

Cheerilee knows the princess is baiting further details, and she probably shouldn't rise to it, but she can't control herself anymore. "I have things to ask whoever I see. But the conversation I have with the princess would be very different than the one I have with...er, the other mare."

The princess takes a long, deep breath, before speaking in the same even, almost emotionless tone as she had before. "What do you know about the theorem Twilight is presenting in Manehattan this evening?"

Cheerilee frowns. Talk about a change of subject!

"Not much, to be honest."

"It's based on a thought experiment she and I came up with one afternoon," the princess continues, as if nothing at all was amiss and they were merely passing time. "The scenario is that you find a room, with only one solid-piece door and no windows, and put a cupcake in it on a plate, and then put Pinkie Pie in the room and lock the door."

"So...you feed Pinkie Pie a cupcake? Does that really prove anything?"

“Well, as you may know, one of Pinkie Pie's peculiar phobias is that she will explode twice—I'm not sure how she thinks that will happen, or what put it in her mind, but it's not really important—so before locking the door, you tell her that eating the cupcake will make her do so.”

"Will it?"

"It's not really important whether it will or it won't, but on the whole, I suspect not."

"Ah." Cheerilee can't help but grin – save for the voice, she swears that if she turned around now, her purple unicorn would be there speaking, eyes closed in a pose of truly incontrovertible academic assurance.

"So the question, you see, is whether her temptation to eat the cupcake will override her fear of exploding at any given time after you lock the door. The interesting magical possibility, which had not occurred to me until Twilight proposed it, is that the cupcake is both eaten and uneaten at the same time...until you check."

Cheerilee blinks.

Well, that does sound like the sort of strange thing she would think up, yeah.

"Interesting," she says.

"It is. And the implications for Twilight's research are truly staggering."

"That may be. But I'm an earth pony – so I know the real answer."

"Oh?"

"Whether the cupcake is eaten or not is entirely up to Pinkie Pie. It's a choice...just like everything else."

It's a heavy moment. Like the whole universe is holding its breath, watching from the edge of its seat...

"Then...choose."

Cheerilee takes a deep breath...and turns around.

The Princess of the Sun looms over her, huge and powerful, wings spread like the very sky...

Cheerilee's ears stand on end – and so does her coat. Celestia is glowing, shining like a fire, and the air feels thick and oily like it does when Twilight's messing with the lightning rod on top of the Library.

"I am Celestia, Princess of the Sun," the princess declares, in a voice which booms and rings for Cheerilee alone. "My existence is a fundamental part of the way the universe operates – the very sun and moon are mine to manipulate and control..."

Dig your hooves in, little mare!

Cheerilee struggles with her limbs, which are begging her to bend, prostrate herself before this monstrous power...

This is my home. My place! I will not be cowed in my own home...not by anypony!

"I have seen things that words cannot convey. I have heard the voices of things that cannot speak. I have walked through time, unchanged and unworn..."

The princess' eyes are blazing white, almost painful to look at. Cheerilee forces her watering eyes to meet them nevertheless, holding herself upright with stiff legs. Her joints already ache after mere seconds of effort against an almost physical need to bend, to break before this...this...before...

"I have seen generations of ponies born, grow old, and die, and yet I remain..."

Just...keep...holding...your...place...

Don't back down...for anypony!

Not even her! Not even...me!

The light is blinding, consuming everything, burning hot on her skin like the heat from an open furnace –

And then it's gone.

Cheerilee blinks. "Huh?"

The library remains, unscarred by any force, as if nothing at all had happened. The shelves sit in their rows, the displays remain, the place wasn't on fire – although that wouldn't have been an immediate source of unusual concern, considering who lived there.

The princess is no longer in front of her –

"All of that is the truth.. I am ancient and powerful and wise and...ancient," somepony says, from one of the reading couches. "But you're right, Cheerilee. That is only part of who I am..."

Cheerilee spins on her hooves...and indeed, the princess is gone.

But Celestia remains – smiling, as always, but...quietly. A sad smile, verging on defeated.

“Now my charms are all o'erthrown // And what strength I have's mine own // Which is most faint: now, 'tis true // I must be here confined by you...” the other mare, who is and is not the princess, whispers, almost to herself.

Cheerilee, stunned, can only quote scripture and verse from old habit. "That's...Shaking Beard's A Storm At Sea. Act Five, Epilogue..."

"The Wizard's final speech when he gives up magic and goes back to Equestria, after years of self-imposed exile, yes. Twilight said you're one for the classics."

She's smaller – still large for a mare, but smaller perhaps than Macintosh. The flowing, multihued mane which usually billowed around her like a cloud is gone; in its place is a startlingly short length of pale pink, cut in two neat, even lines.

Just like Twi–

"Who do you think taught her to trim her mane?" Celestia asks, weakly. "The art of it is learning to move something with magic in a straight line while you can't see it. It's very tricky for a young unicorn. Not a very dynamic style, I know, but –"

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," Cheerilee sputters, waving a hoof. "What – what is this? Is this...like, really you? Your real self, or something?"

The other mare sighs – and unlike the princess' even sigh, which only seemed to go as far as her head and stop somewhere in her powerful neck, this sigh slumps the shoulders, fluffs the wings, twitches the hooves...

"In a magical sense, Twilight is right to say that the cupcake is eaten and uneaten at the same time," Celestia says, raising an eyebrow. "But you are right to say it's Pinkie's choice which one is what really happens."

"So...this is..."

Celestia looks up at Cheerilee, and even though her face is even and solemn, the earth pony is struck with an immense sense of weariness. Not really at anything – it's the face of somepony who's stayed awake for too many nights, figuratively speaking.

She is like Twilight...

The princess blows an errant lock of mane out of her eyes and, in doing so, seems to notice the crown that still rests atop her head. Even that was smaller, less magnificent – Cheerilee, a dyed-in-the-wool lover of words, would be tempted to call it a tiara or a coronet now, a thin strip of gold with three small tines rather than the proud thing that usually sat atop the brow of Her Royal Highness.

Golden magic power flows over it, and it rises gently from her head and is set on a reading table.

Celestia looks up at Cheerilee, and smiles faintly.

"I often take off my crown – it's very heavy, and itches behind the ears if I wear it too long, to be perfectly honest. But it has been a very long time since anypony has asked me to take off the idea of the crown..."

Cheerilee's ear flaps anxiously. "My – my lady..."

"Oh, please, don't call me that now, for heaven's sake," Celestia says, chuckling. "Isn't your whole point how tiresome it can be when ponies only ever talk to your crown...Miss Cheerilee?"

“I, er—I didn't mean to say that I'm—er...”

The princess chuckles. "I noticed even adults call you that."

"It's who I am to them, I suppose," Cheerilee says, slumping a little. "Even ones I've known since they were foals themselves...no, especially those."

The other mare laughs, a little harshness in it that would have been unthinkable from the placid, cool expression of the princess. "There's no escape for those of us doomed to feel it's our responsibility to chase after our little ponies and keep them from destroying civilization, once again..."

Celestia sighs again.

It's bizarre to see her body moving so naturally; like how seeing an animal you've only ever seen pictures of in real life strikes as somewhat unreal, because this one is moving, in all the tiny ways living things do.

"'Friends, but'. What an interesting way to put it..."

Cheerilee lets the silence drag on for long enough to be sure Celestia didn't have anything more to add to this.

Oh, so I have to broach the topic. But like she says, no escape...

And I sort of...hoped this would happen, didn't I. Nothing for it, then...

"Friends, but...I'm the princess," she says.

"Oh, my, yes."

"Friends, but...I'm your mentor," Cheerilee continues.

"Indeed."

"Friends, but...I'm old to the point that it doesn't matter how old, really. Friends, but I'll always be more powerful than you. Friends, but I have other responsibilities and things to attend to, most of which I don't really care for. Friends, but there will always be a but –"

"Enough! Please," Celestia says, raising a hoof. She's panting, and a tear is running down her face. "I think you understand."

"That may be, but...I think you should tell me anyways," Cheerilee says, stepping forward.

The other mare looks up at her, almost shocked.

"Some things have to be said," Cheerilee continues, climbing up beside Celestia on the couch. "Some things I don't know, not really. Some things I only guessed at from what I could puzzle out. But most importantly...um..." She looks up at this strange creature, trying to give an encouraging smile. "Maybe...maybe there are some things even a goddess shouldn't have to go through alone."

Celestia smiles.

It's always been quiet here, but now...

Now there isn't even the quiet ring of Twilight's magic, or the sound of pages turning, or the subtle hiss of a scaly tail being dragged across the floor, grabbing another stack of books and scrolls from one of the tower's many shelves.

It's always been dark around this time of night, too...

But not this dark.

Celestia looks around the tower apartment that had been Twilight's for...my, a couple years, now.

No longer.

Somepony who didn't know this might not realize anything was missing. The little bed had always been a bit out-of-the-way, and the only sign that personal treasures had been removed were some gaps on the lower parts of a few shelves.

It might be considered a little...well. Foolish, maybe, but...

Why not indulge nostalgia? Just for a moment, be alone, here, with the hole where her young friend had been.

The princess closes her eyes, and lets memories fill the place with light and sound, in the privacy of her mind.

Here – Spike beats Twilight at chess for the very first time, as Celestia watches, face split in a grin at Twilight's consternation.

Here – Celestia gives Twilight a knowing look as the young unicorn produces a slim volume from between the pages of her assigned reading, the name Daring Do boldly splashed across the cover.

Here – they quietly sip coffee and discuss some minor shortcomings in an essay.

Two years!

Celestia opens her eyes and feels very silly as she realizes she's tearing up, a little.

She's known Twilight such a short time – to her, anyways. What's ten years of being a teacher to a creature who remembers what she had for breakfast six centuries ago? What's two years of close companionship to somepony who can remember marriages and friendships that last lifetimes – or even whole families she has been close to as the generations come and pass?

What?

"Everything," she whispers. "And it should be everything."

It took some...mental effort, certainly, but it was important to always bear in mind that even though she would outlive every pony she passed on the street, she lived the same way they did: moment to moment, day to day. She was not so powerful, or so different, that she could make time bend to her; every moment came and passed away, never to return.

So: two precious years.

It was time for Twilight to move on. A little past time, if truth was told, but an old mare should be forgiven indulging herself.

"The hardest thing for me was accepting I needed to let her go to live with you," Twilight's mother had said, when the princess had come to discuss Twilight moving away. "Foals – well, not that she's your foal, obviously, but...you've always cared about her as she's been growing up. The hardest thing is knowing when you need to let them out of your nest a little..."

It's...strange.

Celestia knows this – has been through this many times. But it's astonishing how she always has to re-learn this lesson: even she cannot be everything one pony needs, whether that pony is a subject, a friend, a colleague, a lover, a spouse...or a student.

Twilight will be happy in Ponyville – a wonderful place, full of adventure and potential. She's already made quite a splash.

She'll be fine. And she knows how to get in touch with her old mentor if she needs to.

Meanwhile...

Celestia strides over to a window and gazes out at the starlit sky, up at the moon.

Meanwhile, there was somepony else who needed Celestia.

She smiles, faintly. It promised to be interesting.

"This is absolutely unbelievable," Celestia says, making sure her tone is firm, but not...irritable. "I cannot imagine what you were thinking – "

Luna just grins at her, shrugging a little as she sips something green and extremely alcoholic from a tiny glass, lounging in a very typical way on an elegant bier in her private chambers. "I was thinking that I'd follow your exalted example, sister. She has need of...education, in this area." She takes another sip, her grin growing wider. "And she is turning out to be a very eager student, indeed. As she always is, about anything."

"That's what I'm worried about, Luna," Celestia says. "She's eager. She...has a way of misinterpreting things, sometimes. Especially social matters – that's part of why I sent her to Ponyville in the first place, to learn about dealing with other ponies outside of academics. You know this."

"And she's grown so well. As ever, a brilliant decision on your part," Luna purrs.

Celestia gives her sister a wry look. "You honor me. Still, I – "

"Oh, Celestia, relax, please!" Luna groans, suddenly, throwing her head back. "She's just experimenting, like every other pony her age started doing ten years ago. Honestly, you act like something's about to explode."

"Having been present for more than one of Twilight's experiments, I think you underestimate the likelihood of that," Celestia says, as mildly as she can. There are still places around the palace where the scorch marks keep showing through the paint. "Her idea of experimenting is very...formal. You're asking her to enter into romantic and sexual relationships in bad faith, Luna – it would be just like her to think she can just...flit in and out of a relationship, evaluating what happened as if it's just another day at the lab."

“And? That's suitable for some ponies. Not everyone is as boring as you are about that sort of thing.”

"And she might hurt somepony, experimenting like this, not least of all herself. She's not the type to easily handle hurting somepony's feelings that way. It would crush her," Celestia says, conscious she's just rattling off objections. They're good ones, though. "And more to the point, it's bizarre for her to go into relationships openly treating them like something to study. Honestly, I can't believe you'd be foolish enough to tell her to treat this all like research. You have, yourself, expressed boredom with the idea that things like romance can be analyzed – "

Luna snorts laughter. "I had to work with what I was offered."

"Then you could have waited for her to ask you about a specific relationship and guided her through it, not induced her to create some out of nothing to...experiment. You've given romantic advice to many ponies before – not least of all, two ponies I ended up marrying. I don't see what's different...this...time..."

Celestia's heart freezes as she watches Luna's smile grow wide and deeply amused.

"It's you," she whispers. "She's interested in you."

Luna rolls up on the bier, making a terribly false pout of feigned offense. "Does that surprise you?"

Celestia says nothing, jaw dropping. There aren't words to match the incredulity and –

Yes, call it what it is.

The outrage she feels at this.

Luna gets to her hooves, sauntering over to her sister. The half-light of her chambers plays about her strangely, like she's some sort of shadow creature, only partly real. "Should I have just...assented to her affections right then and there, when she kissed me?"

Celestia recoils. "Kissed – !"

"Oh, yes," Luna interrupts, her tone silken through a thin smile. "At the midwinter ball."

Memory spirals and reels desperately before Celestia's mind's eye. "She...she retired early," she says, trying to remember the order of events entirely properly. A sudden, terrible thought makes her look up sharply at her sister. "You two – "

Now Luna is actually offended. "Did I not just imply that I have yet to indulge her?"

Celestia, holding her sister's half-lidded gaze, takes a long, slow breath, trying to breathe out the sudden surge of anger. "So you return her interest, then?"

"Oh, heavens yes," Luna murmurs. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you that she is...fascinating. Brilliant, brave, honorable. Very attractive, too, although she is a prime example of the sort of pony for whom a few choice garments makes all the difference. And of course, I feel a personal connection with her, what with one thing and another..."

Celestia feels her head start to shake slowly, her ability to control herself destroyed by utter shock. "It that's so...if...if that's how you feel, then why – "

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Oh, Celestia..." Luna says, turning away with a smirk. "I always forget how you over-romanticize this sort of thing..."

"What, exactly, am I over-romanticizing?"

"I forgot how you are, is the problem," the younger princess says, shrugging. "You think about this sort of thing far too directly. Of course I want to indulge her. I could be there, right now, in her hooves..." Luna trails off for a moment, before looking over her shoulder with a languid smile. "It's an appealing prospect."

"So...go, then, if that's what you both want," Celestia manages to say, although the words are sour in her mouth.

She should have told me!

The thought flashes across her mind, bitter and hot, something to spit angrily.

But her mind catches up with her quickly...and makes it worse.

Which "she" should have told you that, exactly...?

Luna turns and smiles, a bit mockingly. "Tempting as that is, I am still her princess. I am her elder and, by agreement, her mentor in this. I owe her the benefit of my experience and guidance...and to not keep her to myself, just because I want to."

"So you're telling her to go out, hunt for empty sex and then, only then, will you – "

"Empty? I never told her anything about the quality of her...encounters. Indeed I never directed her to have any, strictly speaking..." Luna's smile fades into a somewhat petulant expression, somehow appearing to be upset that Celestia wasn't overjoyed by this...madness. "I merely asked her to grow a little. Learn about herself, explore her sexuality, so that if we decide to become involved, she's a little more prepared. There's no harm in that – a lot of good, I'd say."

"So explore it with her!" Celestia almost yells. Luna stares at her, stunned. "If you're so wise and experienced, be there for her! If you care for her, don't ask her to...perform, for your approval, as if she has to prove her worth – "

"Why not? You do."

Somewhere, deep down, Celestia knows this is a petty insult. Luna is nothing if not mercurial and occasionally vindictive – in pain, she lashes out, rather than containing herself. But even so there's no way Luna is actually foolish enough to equivocate –

"The difference is that I am teaching her about magic," Celestia says, icily. "Not manipulating her personal life to make myself a more suitable lover."

Suddenly Luna is right there. Inches from Celestia, eyes wide, a sly, mocking smile plastered across her face.

"Ah," she says. "I see what this is about."

"What's that?" Celestia asks, shying from her sister's leer.

Luna chuckles darkly. "Oh, my, my, my, I haven't seen you jealous in so very, very long..."

Celestia's eyes snap wide, matching the flare of indignant rage that burned bright in her.

Oh, she'd heard this ugly little rumor a million times, but...from Luna...

"I have no sexual designs on Twilight – "

Luna shakes her head, grinning. "I believe you. I really do," she whispers. "It's actually a little sad, if you ask me."

"What!?"

“It burns you, doesn't it,” Luna continues, beginning to prowl. “You find this wonderful little unicorn. Powerful, loyal, courageous...you give her everything you can. Teach her things you wouldn't dream of teaching other ponies, even if she doesn't know that. And then you plop her down in Ponyville to live out an idyllic little life, surrounded by good and friendly ponies, which you can occasionally disturb with an opportunity to be a hero...a perfect life.”

Celestia is struck speechless.

Her mind, powerful as ever, processes it – it's all a tremendous mischaracterization of Celestia's intent. It implies meta-intention where there is only goodwill. It suggests that having plans, trying to provide for somepony is inherently manipulative. They conflate caring with a sense of possession –

But all of these perfectly logical and reasonable objections are drowned out by Luna's voice, which holds her sister in dreadful fascination.

"And it burns to know that she would want more than that, doesn't it," Luna says, her voice low and throaty with dark delight. "Something you can't give her, because it wouldn't be...right. Because it doesn't fit with how you think things should be."

"No. Luna, I – "

"It disgusts you to hear me talk about her as a sexual creature," Luna whispers into Celestia's ear. "It does, doesn't it? Because that doesn't...fit."

"I – I am only angry because you're not – "

Luna's wings splay open, shaking mockingly. "Because I'm not...what? Doing exactly what you'd do? Playing by your script? What was supposed to happen, Celestia – was she supposed to die celibate, her only focus in life being your perfect little student?"

Celestia rounds on her, holding herself up in fury. "I fully expected her to...settle down, someday. Find somepony special and – "

"And come to you, asking for advice. No – approval. Come to you!" Luna snaps. "You're not even angry it's me she's interested in, or anything I'm asking of her – because deep down you know that as much as you have a point about sexuality, so do I. We've had this argument a thousand times. No, no, no. You're angry because she's outgrowing you!"

"She outgrew me a long time ago," Celestia says, firm and even. "I am her friend, that's all. I just happen to be who I am, and act accordingly. That is all, Luna."

Luna throws her head back, laughing wildly.

"What?" Celestia snaps. "What's so funny?"

“You can't even face it!” Luna cackles, snapping her eyes, wild and furious, on her sister. “You don't care what she does, or with whom, as long as she asks you for permission! In the end, no matter what she does or who she does it with, you just want to keep her for yourself!”

What follows, for an eternity, is dead silence as only two alicorns in utter shock can create.

Luna's gaze slides away from Celestia, her grin fading, and she begins to tremble in place.

Celestia...retreats. She hides somewhere, to be hurt for awhile.

The world continues to exist despite this, though.

Luna looks up, eyes wary, breaths slow and careful.

The Princess of the Sun stares down at her sister, completely dispassionate.

"Celestia, I'm...I didn't mean to – "

"I remember," the princess says, slowly casting her head about for drama's sake. "I remember how things were once. I remember those sad creatures who used to lounge around these chambers, half-dreaming even when they were awake, their wits dulled with overindulgence and excess, waiting for their mistress to grow bored enough to return and...play with them..."

Luna's eyes narrow, wincing as if she'd been slapped. "That was a long time ago. When things were...getting bad."

"That will not happen again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Sister, I have no desire to hurt Twilight Sparkle, just – "

"See that you don't," the Princess says, turning to leave, striding slowly towards the tall double doors leading to the east wing of the palace. "You are right to say that as long as she remains safe and happy, I have no right to interfere in your affairs...or hers. Do not give me a right...or I will."

I don't know about this "true love" stuff ponies are always talking about. Soul mates, or eternal perfect love, or any of that.

I don't think it really matters.

Your loving student,

Twilight Sparkle

Celestia lets the letter slide down beneath her vision and sighs through a smile.

A happy ending.

Even in Equestria, there were so many times when things didn't turn out quite right – as Celestia knew, all too well. Everything from the ambitions of foals to the schemes of great wizards...everything was subject to the whims of the ponies involved.

And one of the greatnesses of Twilight Sparkle was that there was so little whim in her for anything except success. In this case, that had hinged on really understanding the truth of love – and Twilight, dear Twilight, learned that lesson as ably and quickly as she had that first spell out in the courtyard, all those years ago.

The princess re-rolls the scroll and binds it with the ribbon it had come in, and with a little flourish, sends it on its way to the mystical repository where all Twilight's reports were held. Every last one.

Indeed, the only uncertainty here had been Cheerilee. But from what Twilight said, there was no way she would have rejected an honest plea; they matched so well. Twilight has always been a bright and enthusiastic correspondent, but when she wrote about her new love –

No, not even just then.

It was real love, after all. Deep, fulfilling...it permeated everything. A new, fundamental outlook on things. So much becomes settled, when you're in love. There's always somewhere to return to, always someone there. It came across – just as it had, so many years ago, when her new friendships had blossomed into deep bonds of trust – in everything. Twilight was happy, satisfied, fulfilled...

And so – thank the heavens and bless the very stars above – everything had turned out right.

A happy ending.

Relieved, pleased, mind wandering, Celestia stares out at the sunset.

She doesn't daydream. She doesn't dream at all, really; that is her sister's place. But it is sometimes her place to...see.

As she does now.

She sees it all go...wrong.

Cheerilee turns away from Twilight's doorway.

The fight was too bitter, the wound too deep. Twilight's friends were too obvious in their entreaties, too ingratiating, too suspicious, too demanding. The mare cannot find it in herself to trust that Twilight is anything but desperate to retain a relationship...not the mare she was having it with. Two hearts break, and something that could have been pure and beautiful is lost, victim of an imperfect world where things just don't go quite right.

Lost, hurt, and above all alone, Twilight Sparkle returns to the one place where she has always been safe and welcome: the fortress of her mentor, Celestia, Princess of the Sun. There she rests and recovers from the terrible wound.

Celestia gives her back the tower apartment. Gives her books, bits, invitations to ask for whatever she might need or desire. Gives her companionship one evening, and space the next. Whatever it takes to soothe and heal the broken heart of her loyal, precious student.

But Canterlot is no longer merely the fortress of one heavenly princess.

Luna speaks to Twilight. Whispers in shadow, hints at things that Twilight would never have considered otherwise. She never says anything openly; she is no longer aggressive or demanding or even particularly attractive; she is forever dark and frightening to Twilight now, but compelling for all that.

And then...the princess of the sun makes a mistake.

She shows too much sympathy. Offers just enough tenderness beyond what a mentor and friend would give a wounded soul. Shows just enough of the essential loneliness of her nature and lifestyle that the seed of curious suspicion Luna plants has earth to grow in on the long train ride as the young unicorn returns to her life, far away in the south...

What follows is foolish and desperate and presumptuous, but what else could it be?

A desperate return. A confrontation. A question, a painful question –

A kiss, under the evening sky.

And another...and a lifetime more...

The suddenness of it stirs Celestia from the vision –

And she realizes she's smiling.

In an instant she is bolt upright, eyes wide with revulsion.

To take pleasure, even for a moment, in a future that predicated on so much pain – not just for Twilight, but as much or more for Cheerilee, a mare she'd never met and who had done nothing except make Twilight happier than Celestia had ever known her to be.

How could she be so cruel? How could she be so...selfish, so possessive, so...

But she had taken pleasure in it.

Taken pleasure in the notion of replacing a pony who, by all accounts, Twilight loved so deeply and completely that the unicorn had been able to easily resist Luna's last, desperate attempts to win her attentions even though it was unclear at the time whether Cheerilee would return to her. Of being better than Cheerilee, of being –

Of being...of being something Twilight could love, and would be fulfilled by. More than Luna, more than Cheerilee.

More than anything.

Selfish, selfish mare...

Theirs was a love tried by a princess who had willingly offered everything she was, if only Twilight would submit –

Celestia pauses, closing her eyes in what for her is a wince.

No...two princesses.

But this world was not that world. Here, Twilight had found love, found peace, found a pony to share a lifetime with, if Celestia was any judge – and she was.

Still...

"You just want her for yourself," Celestia mutters, and wipes away a tear. "Is that it?"

Cheerilee is being nervous in front of her, and somewhere in her mind, Celestia is listening.

But the real focus of her attention is what she sees as her eyes wander the Library—taking it all in, one agony at a time.

She has been here dozens of times before, and it's always a little different; but ever since Twilight took up residence and guardianship of this place, it's always been hers.

Like the tower, this sense of personality had always been very subtle, especially since Twilight was typically respectful of the fact that she was staying in a place that would be accessed by other ponies regularly. Still: the arrangement of certain books, a mislaid object or three, piles of work clumsily stashed here and there, forgotten for the moment...

But now...

It was more than superficial things. Of course there are pictures of them around. Of course Cheerilee's possessions are strewn about the place. Of course.

It was the...structural things.

The way the everyday objects were strewn about, for one thing. Just from how things were sitting, Celestia can see that Cheerilee arrived here later than Twilight had expected. They'd been ravenously hungry, but Twilight had waited for her. And then, as they ate –

Heavens, she can all but hear the conversation.

The familiar dances around the point of what they're really thinking. The pauses, eyes meeting, and then the way they look away with a little grin.

Now Celestia knows where she'll find Twilight, and she's tempted to laugh aloud. Somepony's been using magic in bed – it must have set off the trigger.

Celestia raises an eyebrow in mild, bitter amusement. Cheerilee doesn't know how lucky she is!

Mystery solved. Off to deal with it, now!

Any time now...

Celestia feels fixed in place, staring at every little object around the room as if it's the most fascinating thing she's ever seen.

This isn't a library, or even a home. It's a place where two lives dance with each other, every moment of every day...

The princess resists an urge to sigh. It might...come out wrong.

In front of her Cheerilee makes a nervous little sound. She's probably not even aware she'd made it; but there's something in her eyes that makes it clear she's paying close attention to the princess and is getting very worried indeed.

The princess looks down, and tries to smile. "It has been a long time since I was last here," she says.

That's not completely true, in a strictly literal sense, especially for her. But, really...what does something as small as time have to do with anything?

"The bell," Cheerilee whispers.

She barely has to do more than breathe the words; the room is all but silent, and the two mares are only separated by the width of a hair. Celestia's pain was so...loud, even when she spoke in a hush – and this, too, Cheerilee realizes, is something she shares with Twilight. When they are open with their feelings, they radiate, fill the room, drown everything. Was it magic – or just the mundane, everyday magic of emotion and empathy, built into everypony?

Celestia stirs from the stillness of exhaustion, blinking curiously, and Cheerilee continues. "She didn't even mention it to me, but even at the time I thought it was more important than she realized – "

Celestia raises a hoof, her eyes closing in a pained grimace. "That, and a thousand other little wounds. But you put your hoof on the most deadly blow, the one that struck my heart. She reminds me of you..."

Cheerilee sighs, and leans back, grinning faintly. "That mare, I swear to the very heavens and upon the very earth..."

"Replaced. First by my sister – and that had its own level of terror, even without this issue, believe me – and then..."

Celestia looks up at Cheerilee – and to the young earth pony's shock, there is no word for her expression but ashamed.

The very same look of shame that Twilight had when she admitted to being hung up on the princess.

How in the heavens’ name are these two the exemplars of harmony and unity?

But Celestia has turned away, a miserable, hopeless grin of resignation spread across her face. "This place...it's so beautiful. It's been her sanctuary, since she moved here –"

"It was mine, before that," Cheerilee says, without really thinking. "When I was younger."

The princess half-chuckles. "I'm not surprised."

They sit in silence for a while. Outside, the faint glow of evening in Ponyville fills the windows of the first floor – it's astounding how quickly the town settles after something like a rampaging pack of manticores.

Practice makes perfect, Cheerilee thinks. But sometimes you just have to wing it, as the pegasi say.

She sneaks a glance at her companion, who appears not to notice, fascinated by the room again.

Don't I know it!

"That...vision. It's been so poisonous for me," Celestia continues – not really to Cheerilee, but it was the sort of thing you said to an audience. Something you just had to let out. "I could be...I was everything for her, in it. I was all she needed – in everything. And I would be, if I could. For her, and...and for so many other ponies..."

“I know what you mean.”

"You do," Celestia says, looking up to her with a grateful smile. "You really do – I believe it. But it's just not..."

She trails off, looking around, shaking her head weakly.

"Can you imagine how much I envy this?" she says, eventually, waving a hoof. "Think about it: I could give her titles and honors and status. I could give her powerful artifacts and access to any research tools she wanted. I could take her to Canterlot and give her a whole wing of my palace, make her a professor at the Academy...I could uplift her beyond all other ponies in all Equestria. I could make sure her name and accomplishments are never forgotten as long as I live – as if that would take any effort at all, at this point. But this..."

She gestures to the table, still messy with Cheerilee's leftover classwork to correct. To the windows, with Ponyville and all the ponies in it beyond the windows. To the educational displays, the kitchen door...to everything.

"All I could do is take her away from this. Away from her library, from you, from Ponyville at large. And this is something she has always needed – something everypony needs. Something she needs more than anything I could do. A home, a place that's hers, and friends and loved ones to return to. Things she makes and earns for herself, not things I give her..." Celestia sniffles – it's so unbelievable that Cheerilee actually starts, ears pricking up in alarm. "All I could do is put her in a cage. A golden cage, perhaps, but a cage nonetheless. A perfect little student for a doting princess...and the worst thing is that she would always be happy, I'd be sure of that. Happy, but never really...fulfilled."

And having said this, she hangs her head, exhausted and humiliated.

Cheerilee just watches her for a while. The pale mare stares at the floor, breathing in and out slowly in long, rhythmic cycles.

"I love her," Cheerilee murmurs, after a long while. "I really do. You helped her become something...beautiful. Exceptional. She loves without reservation. Gives, without thought of being rewarded. Fights tirelessly for those who need her. She's amazing."

Celestia sighs – not exactly the reaction Cheerilee had hoped the compliment would elicit. "But in so doing, I fell prey to a trap for mentors. I never really let myself think about a world where she wasn't right there by my side, in one way or another. Luna may have been being, shall we say, deliberately provocative, but...she was right."

"You really think so?"

"Not quite to the extent she expressed, but..." Celestia sighs, looking up at the ceiling. "She was right to say I was offended by more than that she was manipulating Twilight, encouraging her sexuality in a way I personally consider unhealthy and hurtful for all but a very few – as it did, indeed, prove to be. But to be...outgrown, to otherwise feel irrelevant and unnecessary – limiting, even..."

She looks at Cheerilee, trying to smile. "I don't need to tell you, it's crushing. Especially for ponies like us."

Us? Us?!

Cheerilee waves her hooves in front of her face desperately. "Princess, I didn't mean to, er...act like I know what it's like to be you, or anything, but –"

"But you understand enough to see I am in pain," Celestia says, in something resembling her normal tone of pleasant serenity. "And Twilight is right. We are similar, even if that similarity is...problematic, for us both. But right now, having talked openly with you...it's a comfort. A rare comfort for me, certainly."

Cheerilee stares.

For days, she's been sweating under the weight of the unbelievable arrogance of what she thought she knew, and the terrible gravity of her plan to bring about this very moment. And now, from the mouth of the mare herself...

"And I hope you believe I understand your concerns as well," Celestia continues, smiling more confidently now. "If you're worried that I will try to interfere with your relationship, or distract her, I want to –"

"Stop!"

Wait – what?

Cheerilee replays the impulse in her mind – and sees what her brain was smart enough to notice without her.

Celestia stirs. "I'm – I'm sorry...?"

"Stop," Cheerilee repeats. She reaches out with a hoof – not touching the princess, but offering – and tries to give Celestia a firm grin. "Your crown is showing. Stop. You don't need to be the noble princess for me. Not now. Not ever again, if you don't want to."

"I just –" Celestia begins –

Cheerilee reaches out and places a hoof on Celestia's, meeting her eyes with dreadful seriousness. "We understand each other," she says. "Enough, anyways. Right?"

"Yes, I think so. But –"

"Celestia," Cheerilee interrupts, relishing the way her companion seems struck by being addressed so informally. "I need you to listen. You – and maybe only you – will understand how hard this is for me to say. I want my friend, the one I was out hunting manticores with tonight, to listen. Not a princess looking for a way to prove she's noble and just. I don't need a princess. I need you."

Winging it, right?

Oh Twilight, you owe me big.

There's a short pause, where the two merely hold a long look – Cheerilee serious as the grave, Celestia stunned and somewhat confused. But before long, the princess' face softens into a small smile.

"Alright," she says.

Cheerilee wasn't lying. This is really, really hard – even just to think. She grits her teeth for a moment and takes a few deep breaths.

"I'm not worried that you'll interfere. I'm worried you won't."

Celestia sits up. "I'm sorry – what?"

"I'm worried you'll say something to yourself like: well, this is all sorted out, so I'll leave Twilight to her life with this nice, smart, good-looking mare, and drop in once in awhile to say hello, maybe keep up by letter..." Cheerilee says, raising an eyebrow, daring Celestia to disagree with any of that. "You and I might be similar, but you and Twilight are similar, too. I can see her mind working around to that and frankly, I can see yours, too. It sounds noble. It sounds...right, for somepony like you. Especially after everything that's happened."

"I –" Celestia begins, her jaw working lamely for a moment. There was a reflexive denial being squashed there, if Cheerilee was any judge.

Before the princess can say anything foolish, Cheerilee pushes on. This is the hard part.

Calling the princess down on herself? Nothing.

Demanding that a goddess admit to being more of a pony than she let on? Foal's play, in retrospect.

But this?

"I love Twilight Sparkle," Cheerilee says, swallowing. "I love her with everything I am. I'm making a home with her. We're starting to raise Spike together. We make love, we make conversation, we fit. I love her. I will do everything I can to be everything she needs from me, and I can do it safe in the knowledge that she will do the very same for me."

"I know that, but –"

"Listen," Cheerilee says, a bit harshly.

Celestia takes a deep breath, concern painted broadstroke on her face, but keeps her peace.

"But there's something I cannot run away from. Something that, if I tried to deny it, would be the same as not loving her, not really.

"There's a part of Twilight Sparkle that has become part of Ponyville. It's made it wild, crazy – it's why manticore kittens are not exactly a surprise, and why we actually have something resembling a sane civic government now, and why her friends have become successful, and so many other things. That part, I get. That part is mine. The part I can hold in my hooves at night. The part I fell in love with."

Celestia is just watching, looking uneasy and concerned. Cheerilee tries to smile, but suspects it's coming out weak and half-hearted.

"But there is part of her that's more than that. The part which, in her very first few days here, faced that creature that was controlling your sister, or whatever happened. The part that fought that weird monster who turned me into lawn furniture and rained chocolate milk on me. The part which...which saved Canterlot at her brother's wedding –"

"She saved my life that day. Proved me wrong..." Celestia whispers. It's unclear from her expression whether she meant to; she seems...enraptured. Focused on the words.

Just like a good lesson. Now, young princess, take away one apple and how many are left?

Cheerilee waves a hoof at the shelves. "That part of Twilight magically rearranges the library without really paying attention, to calm itself. I've known a lot of other unicorns, and every last one of them would consider that their greatest magical achievement ever, but for her, it's relaxing. This part builts complicated machines in the basement, and causes a new, bizarre crisis every month or so because of some accident. It's the part that is so powerful and wonderful that even your sister couldn't resist it. And it is part of Twilight Sparkle – a part I appreciate and love and want to nurture, but..."

She shakes her head.

And smiles.

It's easy to smile, somehow. She thought it wouldn't be, when the moment came...

There's a tear, yes, but...eh. That's just stress.

Cheerilee looks up at Celestia, meets an immortal gaze, and admits the truth.

“I may love it, but it's something bigger than me. Something I can't really be a part of. And frankly, Celestia, no matter what I did, or said, or demanded throughout the rest of our lives together...that part of Twilight Sparkle will always belong to you.”

Celestia's eyes grow wide.

"Her mentor. Her example. Her friend," Cheerilee finishes, forcing it all out before it got caught in her strangled throat.

Her chest is tight; her heart aches. It was heavy and scary...but it's the truth – and now, she'd dig her hooves in and make the world adjust so that it wasn't quite so hard.

"Cheerilee, I would never make any claim on her –"

Agh! I could almost scream!

"Stop! Stop being the princess!" Cheerilee screams. "Be the other mare! It's okay, really! I want to help you! It's okay to admit that you want this, that you want to be a part of her life! Frankly, she needs you!"

Celestia's jaw works, lamely, undoubtedly as she tries to think of something appropriately selfless and noble to say.

The image of Twilight tearfully confessing to being deeply attached to her mentor floods Cheerilee's attention. The thought of it sends a surge of determination through Cheerilee, and she jams a hoof into Celestia's chest.

"She has been hurting so much, because she needs you. Not that –" Cheerilee adds, quickly, glancing to the crown on the table, and when Celestia glances as well, she quickly jabs the larger mare straight in the chest with a hoof once again. Cheerilee's talking, the class will listen. "You. You can be so much for her that I just...can't. So while I cannot be everything she needs in that part of her life, I can be here trying to make sure she gets it, from the one pony she wants to be close to more than anypony...who's not me, anyways."

She's galloping now. If she stops, she'll cry, and she's not done talking.

"And as nice as it is for you and I to bond like this, what I really figured out is that you need her, too. You just said so yourself, as if I needed you to. But you're wrong about things, princess, and so is your sister. You tried to give Twilight a pleasant, happy life, that's true – but why wouldn't you? You can! And she deserves it!"

"I –"

"'Friends, but,'" Cheerilee continues, before Celestia can slow her down. "It makes my life easier in some ways, when I'm teaching and the rest of the time now and again, sure. But I'm telling you, coming home – coming here, to my home – is a relief I can't put to words. I am not Miss Cheerilee, here. I'm just Cheerilee."

Celestia tries to chuckle. "I understand that, but –"

"It must have been paradise for you, teaching her," Cheerilee continues, not even paying attention. She's on a roll, now, reeling out observations as they occur. "Because mentor and protege is closer than teacher and student, which is closer than ruler and subject. Yes?"

A pause.

"Yes," Celestia murmurs.

"But it's still a distance. But the thing is – and this is the thing!" Cheerilee raves, looking back at the door and waving a hoof. "Those three – the damned Crusaders! They know me better than my other students. They've seen more of Cheerilee than the rest, and because of that, they see past the Miss sometimes, especially when it's most inconvenient. They've seen me angry and irritable and depressed – heavens, I've known Apple Bloom since she was a newborn! And just like that, Twilight's seen more than the Princess. She gave me all the clues I needed to know that this mare was here, hidden, because that's what has to happen. She knows, too, deep down – but she's scared, and confused, and frankly has a lot of unresolved feelings –"

"Cheerilee," Celestia says.

"She loves you, Celestia, and you love her. She wants to be there for you, but there's a lot you two need to sort out. So do it! I –"

"Cheerilee!" Celestia repeats, louder.

"What?!" Cheerilee shouts, turning a fierce, blazing glare on the pony foolish enough to interrupt her.

Cheerilee feels the gentle pressure of a hoof laid on hers, and a gentle smile spreads across the mare's face. Huge, pinkish-violet eyes swell with tears.

"You're panicking," Celestia says, chuckling.

"Oh, heavens, I really am," Cheerilee says, before bursting into an uncontrollable bout of hysterical giggles. She slips forward into a pair of open hooves, which gently wrap around her in a very comforting embrace.

The two mares laugh, and laugh, and laugh, until they can't laugh anymore. It was that or sob, and that just wouldn't be dignified.

A long time passes before they pull apart, each panting, sides sore.

"She needs both of us," Cheerilee says, eventually, as firmly as she can manage.

"Canterlot and Ponyville," Celestia replies, turning a bright smile on Cheerilee for a moment, before letting her expression grow solemn. She reached out with a hoof and gently wipes a tear from Cheerilee's eye. "Not just one or the other."

"And because she needs you, I need you," Cheerilee murmurs, breathing out weakly. "But if our relationship became more coffee and light conversation than this sort of talk, I wouldn't mind."

Celestia smiles. "I couldn't agree more."

Cheerilee closes her eyes, and just...breathes. It kind of hurts, but...it's the lingering ache of something that has happened, and is now over.

"What would you have done if there was only a princess to speak to, I wonder...?"

She opens her eyes and turns to take in Celestia's faintly curious expression.

"I probably would have spent a lot of time apologizing, I think," Cheerilee says with a grin. "But I still would have just asked how to help you two do your magic thing. No matter who you turned out to be, Twilight still needs you in her life."

Celestia looks away, her smile growing. "I feel this was better, overall."

"I agree." Cheerilee says, sitting up. "This way I don't have to spend my life knowing you're a liar."

A curious eyebrow raises, only slightly undercut by the huge grin spreading across Celestia's face. "You were that certain?"

Cheerilee nods, affecting a serious expression. "Oh, absolutely."

Celestia laughs.

She is way too easy to get along with...

They sit back and lounge in silence for a little while longer, both smiling gently. Cheerilee passes the time wondering if Twilight is getting enough sleep while she's away.

"This will be hard for me," Celestia says, mildly, apparently apropos of nothing whatsoever.

Cheerilee blinks the mental image of Twilight curling up in the adorable way she does when she's in bed alone out of her mind's eye. "Hm?"

Celestia is sitting bolt upright.

"This," Celestia says, giving Cheerilee a serious look before clearing her throat, shaking her head, and trying to smile peacefully.

Cheerilee's brow furrows. "What are you talking ab –"

Her ears pop, and a familiar, gentle ringing fills the air –

THWIP

Oh.

Cheerilee smiles faintly – but a thought occurs and her ears prick up in alarm.

Wait, all the way from Manehattan? I know she's good, but I had no idea she was that good –

Her eyes leap up to Celestia...the only other pony Cheerilee has ever known to zip across a whole country at a time. As if she noticed this, Celestia's smile briefly flicks upwards into a proud little grin.

A very familiar voice calls from the second floor landing. "Cheerilee? Cheerilee! Are you here? Oh, please be alright, I never should have left..."

Beside her, Celestia takes a deep breath.

Cheerilee looks up. The princess seems serene and tranquil, a play at the easy grace that seemed second nature to her, usually. Now – and perhaps, only to her – it seemed forced to Cheerilee.

"I'm down here, honey," Cheerilee calls, sharing a glance with Celestia.

"Oh, thank heavens!"The sound of hooves clattering down the stairs thunders in the hush of the library. "I heard there were manticores, of all things, so I figured it was about time I put my methodology where my mouth is and tested my distant translocation spell. What happened, anyways?"

"The short version is that it involved the Crusaders."

"Big surprise," Twilight says with a chuckle, appearing at the bottom of the spiral stairs, shaking her head and blinking, as if a bit dizzy. "I really should come up with some way for you to get in touch with me if I'm going to be away for any length of –"

As she hits the floor, she looks up with a smile, ready to greet her beloved – and freezes, eyes wide.

Celestia doesn't stiffen, or even move. She just breathes, smiling pleasantly at the incredulous unicorn.

Cheerilee sighs. "I did have some help."

But Twilight isn't listening. Her mouth sags, then wags soundlessly for a moment, before managing:

“P-princess?”

Celestia's eyes snap to the crown on the table –

Reacting faster than conscious thought, Cheerilee puts a hoof on her shoulder, gently. Celestia stirs, startled, looking down at her a little anxiously.

"Trust her," Cheerilee whispers. "Like I did."

Celestia smiles.

Twilight steps forward, the hoofbeat snapping on the floor attracting their attention. Her face is a portrait of a mare trying to seem firm in the grips of desperate confusion and fear. "What's going on? Were you – hurt?"

"No, Twilight, no," Celestia says, quickly. "I'm...I'm quite alright."

"But you're – you look –"

Cheerilee grins. "The cupcake is both eaten and uneaten."

"What? That doesn't make any sense..." Twilight begins, frowning in confusion, but she trails off as the other two mares chuckle faintly.

The princess opens her mouth to speak, but Cheerilee interrupts. "We'll explain everything, honey. Just, um...just have a seat."

"What's going on? What's this about?"

Cheerilee and Celestia look to one another...and smile.

"It's about the other mare in your life," Cheerilee says, letting her face split into a smirk. "It turns out that she's just like us, the poor thing..."

Twilight looks from Cheerilee to Celestia and back, frowning as the two give each other amused little grins. "I better put some coffee on. This is going to be a long one, isn't it?"

It was.

But it always is, when you're looking for every possible way to say "I love you, too."