Card Slinger was falling.

Opening his mouth to scream, he found neither the strength nor the breath for words. Tumbling head-over-hooves endlessly through a bottomless void of black, he attempted to scream further as he fell, the few words that escaped his lips dissipating into mist. Darting his eyes around the cavern, he searched desperately for any hoof-hold—any branch, any crevice, anything resembling a lifeline.

No matter how much he thrashed or flailed, he found no reward for his panic. Only darkness. Emptiness, surrounding and engulfing him, wrapping him in swaths of dark cloth, as if he were a colt and the void was the forehooves of his mother.

His heart hammered in his chest, thundering with the force of Equestria’s penultimate storm, a storm that would end all others. Card Slinger looked down into the void, his eyes widening in horror.

There was nothing below but blackness. Ultimate, complete, everlasting blackness.

There was nothing but the fear in his heart and the void all around him.

Moving his forehooves up to his eyes, Card Slinger began to howl in his silent misery, praying for an end to his descent.

Visions of torture appeared before his eyes. Hot nails in his hooves, chains stretching his limbs, or a bullet to his brain were all preferable to the eternal emptiness of his fall, his inertia, his impending doom.

While he continued to fall, he swept his terrified eyes all around the blackness, searching for something, anything that might allow him escape. Chills raced down his spine and proliferated through the rest of his nerves, freezing his blood in his constricting veins. The void was black and cold, engulfing him like the Reaper’s cloak, like cold fire. Fear took hold from his furthered hopelessness, paralyzing him.

The stallion who had once commanded an army of gangsters and thugs fell helplessly through the void, unable to even scream.

Card Slinger could do one thing, and that was close his eyes. He squeezed them shut with all his remaining might, clenching them closed with the last shred of his will.

Falling, falling still.

Waiting for the end to come. Waiting for the Earth to rise up and swallow him whole, taking him back—ashes to ashes, dust to dust, as Boone as gone, as his family had gone. As his soul had gone.

After a few more torturous moments of eternal nothingness, Card Slinger opened his eyes.

The descent began to slow. The void below him began to tighten into an ellipse. A small light shone at the end.

Tunnel… tunnel… Dat’s the light, an’ I’m the tunnel…

Card Slinger shook violently, gnashing his teeth as he gasped for breath, fear raging and roaring as a beast within him. All his prior fortitude and swagger disappeared in the all-encompassing terror of the endless void.

That tiny spark of light came closer and closer. Card Slinger felt his whole body being gradually compressed and tightened. Muscle, bone, fur, and sinew was stretched and measured, his body a thread held between two sadistic forehooves.

At the pain, he tried to scream again. Somepony was crushing him to death, laying a thick, invisible stone wall on top of his squirming, thrashing, desperately shrieking body.

This was far worse than he had ever done or would ever do to any gangster in the East, to any outlaw in the West, to Bernie Madhoof himself.

Card Slinger found the strength to flail his limbs again, but it was of no use. No matter how he much struggled against gravity, the tightness continued as the light drew ever closer. His struggle was futile, like everything else had been.

In an instant, the light was before his eyes, and Card Slinger felt himself being smashed in two.

~

When he opened his eyes again, he was in the void again.

This time, he wasn’t falling.

Card Slinger gasped and looked over himself.

I’m… I’m alive! I’M ALIVE!

A tidal wave of joy washed over him when he realized that terrible pain had finally passed. Gasping, panting for breath, he cleared his throat, curious if his vocal cords would cooperate this time.

“I’M ALIVE!”

Though his voice cracked and wavered on every syllable, he could speak. And speak he did, shouting incomprehensible whoops of joy to the endless void, to the eternal Nothing.

Card Slinger threw his forehooves over his mouth and screamed again. Though muffled, he heard his own words once more, nearly weeping at the blessing of his ears. Would he now be able to see as well?

Blinking rapidly, Card Slinger thrust his muzzle throat the darkness. Gradually, his pupils dilated. As he began to see again, he extinguished the urge to hoot and holler in triumph, his eyes widening as he realized that he was still in the all-consuming void of darkness.

Wait! Maybe I’m not in the air… Maybe I’m in the sea…

A kick of his hindhooves and a flail of his forehooves confirmed that he was stuck in place. Beyond his control, he floated in his position, bobbing up and down in a seeming rhythm. Hovering appeared to be his only method of movement.

Other than that, Card Slinger was stationary, trapped in the midst of the great Nothing, alone but alive.

“Where… Where am I?”

The darkness didn’t reply.

Now his heart was skipping and jumping, pressing against his ribcage with enough force to crack it. Coughing, Card Slinger scolded himself, Calm down! Iffa youze made it all dis way, don’t kill youzeself wit’ panic!

The stallion took deep, heaving breaths, unwilling to die of his own accord here in the cold and dark. C’mon… calm down… Jus’ gotta get calm, an’ then, I’ll rememba…

Where was youze last? Wasn’t it—

Just as the pieces began to snap together, the darkness made a noise.

The noise was neither a laugh nor a whimper, but something in between. It belonged to no species or race he had ever heard before, equine or not.

Card Slinger spun around, rotating as he continued to hover in the waterless sea. “Who’s there?! Show youzeself!”

Nothing.

Raising his forehooves, Card Slinger shadowboxed the great Nothing, issuing a warning snarl. “Come out! Show youzeself! Come out an’ fight! I’ll get youze, Madhoof! Youze alive?! Youze survive ma blade?!”

This time, though the Nothing remained silent, Card Slinger felt a pair of eyes on him, piercing through the darkened windows to his soul, through his facades, through his thick and heavy tongue.

Panicking, he punched at the darkness, that same sickening feeling of being examined crawling through him. “Stop!”

Card Slinger screeched, throwing his mane back to howl at the Nothing and its moon. “St-st-stop, stop, stop, STOP! Let me go! Lemme go! Lemme—”

From out of the eternal Nothing came a great Something.

With a head like a pony’s, and eyes like a pony’s, and a muzzle like a pony’s, and a mane like a pony’s, but not a pony in any sort of way, the great Something rose from the Nothing and stared down at Card Slinger.

No words that Card Slinger knew could describe the great Something as it leered down at him.

It was not feet tall, nor yards tall, nor stories, nor miles, but it was great, and terrible. Its eyes were composed of a white, iris, and pupil, though “white” was a poor noun, for there was both no color and every color within its eyes. Its coat and mane were simultaneously every color and colorless, containing some colors that the stallion had never seen before. As it loomed and leered and looked down at him with its great muzzle, it could have been either a stallion or a mare or a gender in between.

While it appeared now as only the head of a pony, as much of a pony as it could be of anything else, Card Slinger knew with inexplicable certainty that this was but one fragment of one shard of one piece of glass that composed the stained-glass mural of the Something, of the great Mystery staring down before him, of the Something coming out of the Nothing.

Speechless, breathless, and spineless, Card Slinger merely floated in place and looked back into the great, haunting, welcoming, terrifying eyes of the Something.

Then, It spoke.

”Card Slinger,” It said with a voice like the roar of thunder.

Card Slinger trembled before It, more out of awe than fear. He suddenly felt compelled to bow, to prostrate and prone himself more than he ever did for the Master, not out of fear, but piety. Awe. Worship.

“Card Slinger,” It said again, his name never sounding so beautiful as it did on Its tongue, ”do you know why you are here?”

Meekly, Card Slinger met Its eyes, and choked through a sudden, uncontrollable trembling of his limbs, “B-b-b-because I’m… d-d-dead?”

The Something simply nodded.

Mustering every last bit of his courage, Card Slinger looked up at the Something, into Its voidless, empty eyes. “Are… Are youze… God?”

The Something laughed.

”God? That is what some call me. Others call me Most High, or Great Mystery, or The Silent, or The All. I am all and none of those things; I am what I am.”

Card Slinger’s eyes widened in understanding and recognition. The Something moved closer to him.

”Card Slinger, former leader of the Manehatten Knights, former King’s Knight, drug user, drunkard, thief, filthy-tongued, foul-mouthed, backstabbing, traitorous, homicidal, vengeful, lustful, blasphemous, and scheming…”

While It continued to dissect his mind and heart, Card Slinger felt a great darkness pass over his body, blades of fire and ice probing at his chest, his stomach, his throat. Helplessly suspended in the Nothing before the eyes of the great Something, his breathing and heart rate began to slow.

Card Slinger wanted to speak, to plead and beg for forgiveness, but everything It said was true. It was all true and he was sick of running from the truth.

The Something snorted over his muzzle as It drew closer to him, the fiery mist eking from Its great nostrils battling with the ice overtaking him.

”Card Slinger, you have heard it said several times before… Everypony must be salted with fire.”

Meeting Its eyes, Card Slinger felt the ice constrict in his chest, squeezing around his heart, while the fire passed through his lungs, stealing his breath, neither element destroying the other.

The great Something drew closer, closer, fire on Its tongue and in Its eyes.

”Everypony must be salted with fire, Card Slinger.”

The great Nothingness around them, black against black, suddenly shone blindingly white.

Card Slinger closed his eyes, using his forehooves to shield his face.

”You must feel now all the pain you have inflicted unto others… You must be purified by salt and fire…"

A trio of colors—red, orange, and yellow—reared up in the eyes of the great Something as It brought Card Slinger up to Its muzzle and opened Its maw. Past rows and rows of perfect teeth of every and no shape, the fiery mist passed over him again.

This time, it was not mist but fire, and it entered his wounds as easily as salt.

Fire, tendrils of flame and ember, shot from the mouth of the great Something towards Card Slinger, who writhed and kicked and thrashed and bucked and screamed, screamed as the flames passed first over his forehooves, burning his fur, then tunneling down to his skin, his muscles, and then his bones, melting his flesh away—

And while the flames passed over him, starting at his forehooves and burning their way up and down, towards his neck, towards his muzzle, turning him to ash, Card Slinger’s ears filled with screams, cries, pleas of agony—

Cries of foals he had bullied when he was a colt, yelps and grunts of pain when he stomped on their bodies, when he sliced their hearts wide open with bitter words, when he kept them up at night with nightmares—

The pain passing over him, the salt mixing with the fire, burning each fresh wound with pulsating, torturous intensity, and he could only throw back his mane and scream his silent scream—

He was a teenage colt now, almost a teenager, and next he heard Babs Seed’s sobs, her cries, her screams as he stalked her nightmares, her howls of pain as he sliced open her ear, Apple Bloom’s screams of her own as he raised the dagger towards her, and then as Babs Seed leapt upon him—

The salt and fire ate him from the inside out, pulling aside his skin and sliding under the muscle, tattooing him far beneath the epidermis, worming its way to his organs and eating them up too, starting with his foul, wretched heart, then moving next to his lungs, filled to the brim with his fetid, putrid words and curses, then channeling further still to his veins, were adrenaline-rich blood had fueled his sins—

And now he was a stallion, and the pain of all those he had shot, he had strangled, he had stabbed and stomped and suffocated, filled his nervous system, filled his ears, even though the fire was eating them, up, too, his senses still processed the terror and fear and suffering he had caused each and every pony he raised hoof and knife and gun towards in his life, and the pain was so intense, so intense that he wished he were dead, had he not already have been—

And then, with his formless muzzle wide open, Card Slinger screamed into the Something as It screamed at him, twin screams and cries of silent, opposing octaves meeting in the middle as the salted fire finally ate up the last part of him, swallowing the black orange tattoo and its two letters.

White fading to black, Card Slinger, his body and his sin consumed by the salt and fire, collapsed onto the floorless floor of the great Nothing.

Heaving, breathing deeply from his lungless lungs, Card Slinger bowed, laying prone before the face of the Deep.

Agony, sweet and tortuous and righteous, rushed through the bloodless blood of his lacking veins, soaring all throughout him, as he continued to be purified.

Minutes, hours, days, years, decades, centuries, millennia passed, as Card Slinger relieved every last sin, sin after sin, every last act of hatred and violence he had committed against another.

Tears poured from his eyes through the endless, timeless time, as he felt all the fear, despair, grief, and anguish he had wrought upon another, as he wept for them and with them and knew nothing but his guilt.

The darkness quaked beneath him when the Something spoke up again, when the last tear fell from his eye, the last bit of salt finally washed his wounds clean, and the last ember of fire was extinguished.

”Card Slinger, do you finally understand?”

Raising his furless muzzle, Card Slinger the spirit looked into the eyes of the great Something and said with a clean tongue, “Yes, I do understand.”

It smiled.

Card Slinger smiled, too.

”There are a few who have been waiting for you. They have been searching for the door, but they cannot find it without you. Are you ready to meet them?”

With all his heart, Card Slinger said, “Yes, I am ready.”

The great Something gazed at Card Slinger, the purified stallion soul, and smiled.

”Good luck, Card Slinger.”

In the wink of a god’s eye, Card Slinger was gone.

~

Card Slinger opened his eyes.

Below his hooves was an entire galaxy of stars shining brightly against a clear night’s sky. White diamonds twinkled and glistened against the blanket of blue. Although there was no moon, he had had been guided starlight often enough to know that the atmosphere here reflected the first hours of twilight.

The sky proclaimed the Witching Hour, the time of strongest magic.

Trotting across the stars, Card Slinger glanced over to see a blinding, white light. Bringing a forehoof to his eyes, he trotted closer in spite of his fear.

To follow the light, he would need to trust it, embrace it, and trust in his own hooves. He would need to learn to love the light, and to love himself.

Card Slinger, filling his heart with love, with trust, followed the pure, holy light across the starry plain.

Over the North Star, over constellations near and far, over memories and wishes and declarations of love and adoration and reverence he stepped, making sure to only touch these moments, not to stomp on them.

Drawing closer, he saw, through the blinding light, a door in the distance.

Beside the door were the figures of five ponies—two mares, three stallions.

His most sacred heart beating in his chest, Card Slinger ceased to trot, started to canter, then began to gallop, bursting at full speed off his hooves towards them, gemstone tears flowing from his eyes in endless joy.

There, a black stallion and a magenta mare waited patiently, along with a palomino stallion, a gray stallion, and a pink mare.

“Mom! Dad! Boone! Dodge! Switch!”

As he rose to meet them, Boone, Dodge, and Switch hurried over, nuzzling his neck. Card Slinger smiled, his heart brimming with the joy of reunion, of kinship, of friendship, of love.

The other mare and stallion followed after them, wide smiles on their muzzles.

“We have been waiting for you, my son,” his father said.

“We have been waiting to find the door with you, my dear,” his mother said. “We’re one door away from Heaven. Do you think you can help us find it?”

Overcome with joy, Card Slinger, his eyes full of healing tears, nodded.

~

“I neva thought youze wouldn’t be heeya wit’ me… Afta everythin’ we been through, I always thought dat youze would be by ma side… When the time was right, when the time finally came, I thought youze would be there ta celebrate dis wit’ me…

“I always thought youze would be there, dat I would be able ta tell youze everythin’ maself.”

Under the descending desert sun, Babs Seed leaned against Apple Bloom and looked down at the two gravestones.

Apple Bloom nuzzled her mare’s shoulders, careful not to touch her back.

Though the surgery had been performed several months ago, Babs Seed was still healing, still not in her full-fledged form. Luckily, the finest unicorn surgeons in Manehatten had managed to replace and heal the slipped disk in her back without causing any permanent damage.

In time, Babs Seed would be her old self again, at least physically. Emotionally, both mares, and everypony else involved in what the newspapers had come to call “The Madness In Manehatten” had a long road ahead of them.

“Ah know they can hear you, sugarcube,” Apple Bloom whispered, wiping at a tear falling from her fiancee’s eyes.

“I k-know…” Babs shook her head and laid a forehoof between the graves. “I… I jus’... I just feel like I… I could’ve done mo’, youze know? I… I think back ta dat night a lot, how foalish I was… How I hadn’t told ‘em befo’, told ‘em how much I cared fo’ dem, how much I appreciated everythin’ dey did fo’ us… Lots o’ ponies I should’ve told dat ta, actually…”

Taking another breath, Babs muttered, “First dem, the West… An’ then the East… All those deaths… Offica Cotton, Slinga, the otha officas, Royal Guards… An’ Toss is half-blind now, an’ Dove… Dove quit the force…”

Apple Bloom rubbed her shoulder again. “No, Babs, it ain’t yer fault. None o’ it’s yer fault. At least they’re all in a better place now, right? An… An’ Lucky’s gonna be okay… in time… An’ Dove, she… She looked a lot happier goin’ back ta the Royal Guard…”

Babs forced a little chuckle, removing her forehoof from the sand. “Y-yeah… I guess youze is right. Dove wasn’t expectin’ a medal, much less ta welcomed wit’ open hooves by Celestia herself…”

Snorting, another little chuckle escaped her throat. “Heh, I didn’t want dat medal eitha, but I guess youze, me, Brae, Mac, an’ AJ all have summat ta hang ova the mantle, right?”

“Eeyup. An’ Granny has somethin’ ta complain ‘bout, how she didn’t even git ta use that huge hunk o’ metal she bought!” In spite of herself, Apple Bloom laughed, too. “Oh, well, she’s proud, an’ Ah still wouldn’t want ta be the one who makes her take that shotgun out again.”

“Yeah… Heh… When she found out ‘bout us bein’ engaged, she said iffa youze hadn’t done it yet, she would’ve had ta bring it out…”

Leaning against her mare, Babs Seed let a few more laughs mix with her tears, then sighed. Apple Bloom stroked her shoulders and neck, then caressed her chin, giving her a gentle kiss on the snout.

Looking down again at the gravestones of her friends, two of the ponies to whom she owed her life, Babs Seed allowed one more tear to fall. She leaned down and spoke to Soapy and Dyea once more under the desert sun.

Bringing a forehoof to her lips as if sharing a juicy secret, Babs gestured towards her mare and whispered to them, “Dis one heeya conned me inta marryin’ her. Gonna be on Harvest Day, few weeks from now. Well, I’m not sure who got the raw end o’ dat deal yet. Probably me, eh, Soapy?”

A playful hoof to her side, and they were laughing again. All four of them.

Though the bar would most likely never be rebuilt, Babs Seed heard Soapy’s piano music and his off-tune voice serenading her and Apple Bloom.

Regardless of the stones in the sand, there would still be the stars in the sky.

~

Manehatten would never be the same, for better or worse.

The existence of such deep-seated evil in the heart of the once-shining city was something that nopony could have fathomed. The Royals themselves still pondered the depths of Madhoof’s greed and bloodlust, wondered if it was truly a result of something dark and vile long buried in the heart of ponykind.

Perhaps Twilight’s determining spell had been miscast. Perhaps the evil in the Orange Family Mansion was of the Most Low, Old Scratch, Sombra reincarnated, Discord, Nightmare, something not of this world.

And yet, perhaps there were stallions like Bernie Madhoof born every day, stallions without empathy, sympathy, or morality roaming the streets. Perhaps such evil was an inevitable consequence of nature and society.

Regardless, with “King Orange” toppled off his throne at last, the King’s Knights gang soon dissolved.

The remaining gang members were captured, some followed all the way to the Badlands by the Royal Guard to be arrested. In exchange for reduced sentences, the few Manehatten Kings and Manehatten Mafia who had survived the assault on the Master’s Mansion provided valuable information leading to the arrests and capture of the remaining members.

Princess Celestia stationed the current Captain of the Royal Guard in the heart of Manehatten, replacing the deceased traitor Brutus. She visited Manehatten in the flesh every week for the months to come, vowing to her subjects that nothing of this magnitude would ever come to pass again, whether in Manehatten or far beyond.

Greed and hate will never cease to end. The tangled web of crime and conspiracy would never be fully extinguished, not in a growing Equestrian society composed of citizens with individual rights, free will, and temptations.

Nevertheless, it was the sacred vow of the alicorns and their Royal Guard to be ever more vigilant, in case the slimy thing that crawled and twitched in Bernie Madhoof’s heart burrowed into another pony’s tortured mind.

Unlike all of the other fallen, no matter how infamous or seemingly unloved, in the aftermath, there was no funeral held for Bernie Madhoof.

Nopony complained.

~

“Ah’m so glad ya kept this.”

Looping his large forehooves gently around Babs Seed’s neck, Big Macintosh tightened the strings of the bolo tie, careful not to touch its ornament in the middle, which was a ceramic purple shield with a red apple slice inside. Almost eight years ago, he had hoof-made this little accessory for the filly, inspired by something he had seen in Rarity’s Boutique.

Big Macintosh was never one for many words, keeping most of his talents and accomplishments to himself. Nevertheless, a surge of pride swelled in his chest as he finished fixing the tie he had made, then stepped back to admire the bride-to-be.

Dressed in a black tuxedo with a white undershirt made from the finest silks and velvets, which was adorned with silver buttons on the jacket and sleeves, Babs Seed looked absolutely lovely on her wedding day. Opting for the bolo tie instead of the traditional bowtie only added to her unique but undeniable beauty. The golden hoop in her left ear had been shined, the metal glistening in Celestia’s mid-afternoon sun.

For the first time in many years, Big Macintosh had not given Babs her most recent manecut. That had been taken care of last night after the wedding rehearsal by the once-barber Page Turner, an amazing stallion and father in many ways, Big Mac had come to find.

Throughout the past few months, Babs Seed and Apple Bloom had lived under the Apple Family farmhouse’s roof while the two healed, sleeping in their old room. Turner, Braeburn, Citrus, and Libra had stayed at the farmhouse for weeks at a time before briefly returning to Appleloosa, sleeping either in the barn or in the living room.

Big Macintosh knew that there was a time and a season for everything. For the past few months, it had been a time and season for the Apples and their friends to heal… and prepare.

While they began to heal both physically and emotionally from the madness in both the West and the East, the Apple Family prepared for the long-anticipated marriage of their bloom and seed.

Today, Harvest Day, was another time, another season. One in which to celebrate, to come together in family, friendship, and love, as two lives finally entwined and became one.

“How… How do I look?” Babs Seed turned from the mirror. Blushing slightly, she tapped a forehoof on the floorboards, looking away from him.

With a sincere smile, Big Mac said, “You look beautiful, Babs.”

Babs snorted, blushing further. “Aw, naw, youze is jus’ sayin’ dat.”

The stallion held one of her forehooves and pulled her carefully into a hug around her shoulders. “Naw, Ah mean it. Ah really do. The tux looks perfect on ya.”

Babs couldn’t help but grin back at him. Dressed in his father’s tuxedo, Big Macintosh was truly the perfect one. From the jacket’s golden buttons, to the apple-green bowtie that contrasted precisely against his coat, he had certainly out-dressed her today.

“Thanks, Mac.” After returning the hug, she looked around the stallion’s bedroom, fidgeting. “H-how much longa?”

“Apple Bloom’s still gettin’ ready.” Mac couldn’t hide a smirk. “Always worried about lookin’ good fer you, ain’t she?”

Hiding her blush, Babs mumbled, “Ah, heh, I g-guess…”

A knock at Big Macintosh’s door pulled him away. When he trotted over and opened it, Applejack and Citrus Blossom entered the room with excited grins.

Her dress flowing elegantly with each step, its dark-blue silk sparkling with silver, Citrus trotted over to her sister and embraced her in a shoulder-hug. “You look so pretty, Babs! Ooh, and this goes great with your tux!” she gushed, gently running a forehoof along the strings of the bolo tie. With a wink, she added, “Apple Bloom is just going to love what you’re wearing!”

“Th-thanks, Citrus,” Babs muttered. She looked over at Big Macintosh again, who only seemed to beam brighter at her embarrassment.

Applejack, wearing her mother’s gold-and-red dress, laughed and nuzzled Babs Seed’s neck. “Aw, Citrus, look how nervous yer makin’ her! Poor mare’s gonna pass out befo’ we even get ta the altar if ya keep this up!”

Citrus feigned offense, sticking her snout in the air. “Oh, hush, Applejack. Babs is going to be just fine! Right, sis?”

A thick, nervous nausea spread from her stomach, making her regret the small bowl of oats she had this morning. The nausea coupled with the gradual shaking of her hooves made Babs Seed reply, “Ee-y-yup. I’ll be fine, jus’ f-fine.”

After giving the bride-to-be another hug, Applejack grinned up into her eyes, seeing that same shade of emerald stare back at her. “Ya look beautiful, sugarcube. How ya feelin’?”

“G-good, thanks.” Her churning stomach urged her to change the subject. “How’s Bloom doin’ wit’ ma Mom an’ Da’?”

Applejack chuckled, the Stetson on her head laughing along with her. “They’re right ol’ strikin’ the fear o’ Celestia inta her, lecturin’ her on what’ll happen if she—aw, Babs, don’t look at me that way! Ah’m only kiddin’!”

The four of them laughed, one of them forcing a weak chuckle. Ah ha ha, funny joke is funny… Gotta relax… Breathe… It’s gonna be fine… Youze is jus’ gettin’ married… In fronta everypony… N-nothin’ ta worry ‘bout at all…

Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, Applejack shook her head. “Naw, naw, they’re gettin’ along great. An’ she looks jus’ gorgeous, sugarcube.”

Babs Seed’s ears pricked. “R-really? What’s she wearin’?”

Citrus giggled. “Silly Babs, it’s bad luck for the bride and gr—er, brides to see or know what the other is wearing before they meet out on the altar!”

Babs rubbed her nape. “Er, yea… r-right.”

Applejack patted her on the shoulder. “But don’t ya fret, darlin’. Everythin’s gonna be jus’ fine. Most o’ our friends an’ family are arrivin’ as we speak!”

“Are Sweetie an’ Scoots heeya yet?”

“Not sure. Want me ta check?” Applejack asked. Babs nodded vigorously.

“Alright, Ah’ll be right back. Y’all don’t go an’ make her even mo’ nervous, ya hear?” On her way out, Applejack shot a playful glare towards Citrus Blossom and Big Macintosh, both of whom just laughed.

Using a forehoof to flatten the creases in Babs Seed’s tuxedo jacket, Citrus assured, “Just try and relax. Today is going to be perfect, Babs.”

“Eeyup. An’ a long time comin’. Though…” Big Macintosh gave a playful nudge to her side. “Ah’m surprised that it was ma sister who proposed ta ya instead o’ the other way ‘round.”

With a nervous laugh, Babs said, “Well, she’s always been betta at those kinda things than me, Mac.”

“Musta got that from Pa, then.”

Citrus smiled. "Yes... And Babs, you look so much like Aunt Barbara like this."

The three of them smiled in a brief moment of silence before returning to assisting the bride-to-be with her last-minute adjustments on this momentous day.

While her hooves were far from cold, Babs Seed was more nervous that she had ever been.

~

“There. What do youze think, kiddo?”

Turner stepped aside, holding the manebrush in his mouth as he gestured towards the mirror. Apple Bloom turned around, admiring her mane. While the stallion was far more accustomed to styling short manes, he had insisted on assisting the bride-to-be regardless.

Apple Bloom looked at her reflection and smiled. “Looks amazin’, Turner, thank you.”

After setting the brush down on the dresser in Applejack’s room, Turner joined her at the mirror. “Youze look absolutely beautiful, Apple Bloom.”

The dress Rarity had created for Apple Bloom (for, she vehemently insisted, free) was not the traditional white, but it was just as elegant, swaths of red, orange, and yellow silk stitched perfectly down to the last detail. With her mother’s bow tied in both her mane and her bushy tail, Turner thought she looked nothing short of stunning.

Blushing, Apple Bloom said with a little chuckle, “Th-thanks. Now Ah see where Babs gets her flatterin’ from…”

Turner laughed, draping forehoof over her shoulders. “Aw, c’mon, kiddo! Don’t be nervous. Youze is gonna be jus’ fine.”

Grinning up at him, Apple Bloom poked at the stallion’s red tie, which matched perfectly with his black suit jacket and white undershirt. “Heh, Ah know… Jus’ a lil’ nervous, Ah guess…”

Turner ruffled her mane. “Aw, don’t be. Everypony’s heeya ta support youze two an’ see youze happy, an’—“

A knock at the door cut his words short. “Heh, I’ll get dat, one second.”

While Turner hurried away, Apple Bloom stared at her reflection in the mirror. A combination of excitement and fear rose up in her chest, making her shuffle her hooves. Despite their successful wedding rehearsal the night before, she could not quell her nerves. What if she tripped over her dress? What if she stumbled over her vows? What if the rings didn’t fit?

“There’s the lovely bride,” said a familiar, cheerful voice.

Turning around, Apple Bloom smiled when she saw Libra Scales walking over to her. “Oh, h-howdy, Auntie.”

Dressed in a fine, silk dress similar to Citrus Blossom’s, although of a lighter blue, Libra practically flowed across the floorboards over to her. Of all who had been made suits or dresses by Rarity, Libra was the only one who managed to get away with paying for hers, after presenting an infallible argument for doing so. The look on Rarity’s face was worth every single bit.

Turner, catching himself staring, shook himself out of it and hurried to Apple Bloom’s side. “Doesn’t she look lovely, Libra?”

Libra nuzzled Apple Bloom’s shoulder and smiled up at her. “Yes, Page, she sure does. Nervous at all, honey?”

“Oh, uh, j-jus’ a lil’.”

“I can see that,” Libra replied with a playful grin. “Don’t worry. All mares get nervous on their wedding day. I bet Babs is just as nervous as you.”

In an attempt to comfort the blushing bride, Turner assured, “Iffa Babs is anythin’ like her ol’ stallion, she’s probably mo’ nervous than youze!”

Libra shot him a quizzical glance, making him blush further. “Eh, heh, heh…” Patting Apple Bloom’s shoulder, he corrected, “Naw, I kid. Youze two will be jus’ fine.”

Catching sight of her aunt’s glance towards him, Apple Bloom could help but grin. There was some comfort knowing that she and her mare weren’t the only ones feeling a little nervous today.

Nodding, she nuzzled his neck in return. “Heh, yer right. Thanks, Turner.”

“Youze welcome, kiddo,” Turner said with a proud grin. He was halfway tempted to ask her if she wouldn’t mind calling him father in time; father-in-law was far too many syllables and far too much separation.

Yet, he had a feeling there would be many opportunities for him to ask her that, and more than enough time for both of them to get used to it, if they decided it to be so. This was a union he felt would live up to its vows.

The clearing of a throat caught their attention. Libra, a sheepish expression on her muzzle, approached Apple Bloom, then laid a forehoof on her shoulder. “Apple Bloom…”

“Yes?” Apple Bloom looked up at her expectantly, her breath catching in her chest. If this was what she had so long hoped to hear, then there was no better day to hear it then today. When Libra didn’t immediately reply, she added in a hopeful tone, “Yes, Auntie? What is it?”

“Apple Bloom…” Libra Scales took in the sight of the bride-to-be, the nervous joy shining behind her eyes, the faint blush tinging her cheeks when she spoke of her bride, the sincere smile on her muzzle, a thousand emotions behind it.

In her, Libra recognized pieces of herself on her own wedding day (the implications of the years thereafter notwithstanding), as well as those on the muzzles of countless friends and family she had seen married off over the years. There were few differences to note beyond the obvious circumstances.

Despite the nature of their relationship, Libra Scales knew that Apple Bloom loved her daughter, and Babs Seed loved her niece just as much. And after everything that had transpired these past eight years, and the tangled web of ways their lives had connected and entwined—the way all of their lives had—there was nothing righter in the world than today.

Finding the words at last, Libra felt a pure, sincere smile curl across her muzzle, and said, “If you would have told me eight years ago that my daughter would be marrying my niece, I would have called them crazy at best. I will admit that when Babs first told me, I… I was skeptical. No, not just skeptical. Bent against it.”

Apple Bloom suppressed the urge to flinch, her heart racing faster, as Turner stood beside them, silent, his ears pricked.

“I thought this was just some fluke, something that I should have prevented or stopped from happening. I wondered what would come of it as the years went on, and feared the worst.

“But…” Her smile growing wider, Libra laid her other forehoof on Apple Bloom’s shoulder, leaning up to meet her eyes.

“After all of this time and everything you two have been through, and how you’ve stuck beside my Babs Seed, and she with you… I know now that, no matter how it appears to anypony else, you two love each other, and I love that you both are so happy.

“I’m… I’m proud of you, Apple Bloom. I’m proud of you both for being who you are and loving as you do, even when I or others dared to call it something wrong.”

Tears welled up in Apple Bloom’s eyes at Libra Scales’s words, but they fell at her next statement.

“You look beautiful today, my dear… And just like your mother.”

Throwing her forehooves around her aunt’s neck, Apple Bloom, looking like the sunset after the Sunshine, hugged her tightly, the words she had longed to hear muzzle-to-muzzle from her bringing tears of joy to her eyes on this momentous day.

Turner wiped at his eye with a forehoof, dust kicked up by their hooves as they embraced.

~

Another knock at the door sent Citrus Blossom scurrying away. Babs Seed nearly sighed in relief. Horseapples! Iffa Citrus straightens ma tie an’ ma cuffs one mo’ time, I think I might jus’ lose it…

“Babs! One of your friends is here!” Sharing a nod with Big Macintosh, Citrus added, “I’ll give you two some time to catch up. Fifteen minutes to go, Babs!”

“Alright, th-thanks!” Digging a forehoof at the floorboards, Babs waited until Citrus and Mac, both wearing eager grins, exited the room before she rushed over to the door.

“Scoots! There youze are!”

Strutting in, Scootaloo showed off her own tuxedo, running a forehoof through her mane. “Hey Babs! Great tux! You like mine?”

Pulling her into a hug, Babs laughed and rustled her mane. “Yeah! Ha, did youze an’ Feathaweight switch outfits o’ summat?”

Smoothing her mane back, Scootaloo laughed with her. “Nope! I just thought I looked better in the tux. Don’t tell him I think mine’s better than his, though. He might get offended.”

“Pffft! Aw, c’mon! Not really an insult. Nopony can rock a tux like youzeself.”

Scoots smirked. “Well, only Rainbow Dash. Otherwise, no. You’re coming a pretty close second, though.”

Grateful for Scootaloo’s humor, Babs laughed again, feeling her anxiety gradually dissipate. However, something she said made her raise an eyebrow. “Dash? She’s heeya, too?” Thought most o’ the Elements said dey wouldn’t be able ta make it ta-day…

Scootaloo nodded, stretching her wings. “Yeah, she and Soarin just flew in. Pretty much everypony’s here by now!”

Babs swallowed. “E-everypony?” Jus’ who exactly is “everypony”?

Scootaloo began rattling off the guests at the top of her head. “Ya know, Dash, Soarin, Fluttershy, Rarity, Pinkie, Caramel, Miss Cheerilee… Sweetie and Silver should be here soon… A bunch of Apples showed up, you probably know ‘em all, I didn’t recognize any after Braeburn, Mac, and AJ… Bon-Bon, Roseluck, Raindrops, Mayor Mare—”

Babs held up a forehoof. “Waitaminute! Half o’ dem didn’t even show up ta the rehearsal last night!”

“I think I heard Pinkie Pie saying something about needing to get more last-minute party favors for the reception or something since the guest list expanded.”

Babs face-hoofed. Ugh… Why did I let AJ put Pinkie in charge o’ the town’s guest list?! Suuuuure, AJ got all our family who wanted ta come… not dat there were too many others… And then she puts Pinkie in charge o’ the friends list… Wait…

“Scoots, youze seen any Manehatten ponies out there?”

Scootaloo shook her head.

Babs sighed. Oh well. It was a long shot, anyway.

Scootaloo draped a forehoof over her shoulders. “So… Feelin’ nervous?”

Babs rolled her eyes. “Nope! Not at all! The biggest day o’ ma life, an’ I’m as fresh as a rose!”

“That’s what I thought. Chill! It’s gonna be alright.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Though…” Scootaloo smirked again. “You know… After today, I can bug Featherweight about the fact that not just one, but two of my friends have been married before me.”

Smirking back, Babs replied, “So is dat why youze are heeya ta-day? Jus’ gatherin’ mo’ ammo ‘cuz youze is too chicken ta propose youzeself?”

Rewarded with a light punch to the shoulder and a glare, Babs chuckled and raised a forehoof. “Okay! Okay! No chicken jokes, I know! Sorry!”

“Damn right. Those got old after the first year.” Chuckling, Scootaloo shook her head. “Naw, just kidding. Seriously, though, I’m happy for you and Apple Bloom.” She smiled. “I’m glad she’s marrying somepony who treats her so well. You really love her, don’t you?”

To Babs Seed’s chagrin, her blush returned in full force. “Y-yeah, I do… Heh… Th-thanks, Scoots.”

“No prob. It’s great that we’ve been hanging out more since you two returned from Manehatten after… All that…” As she trailed off, Scootaloo looked over at her with a pained expression.

While Babs Seed and Apple Bloom had either visited or been visited by Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and their special someponies quite frequently the past few months, they had yet to go into full detail about what had happened. It was likely that they never would.

Thankfully, Scootaloo neither pressed the subject then nor now, a smile returning to her muzzle. “Anyway, I just wanna say that I’m really happy for you both, and you’d better not let this be an excuse to stop hanging out like the rest of them!”

They shared a laugh.

Giving a weak punch to Scootaloo’s shoulder, Babs said, “Not a chance! We’re gonna be stayin’ heeya fo’ a while, so we should spend as much time as we can wit’ all youze. In fact, once we all get settled, all six o’ us should go out ta Berry Punch’s tavern. O’ maybe the milkshake shop. Youze know, like old times?”

Scootaloo grinned. “I would like that.”

“Babs?” Citrus Blossom called through the door, “Babs, it’s time.”

It’s time.

This morning’s bowl of oats seemed like it had been a very, very, very bad idea indeed. While her stomach threatened to ruin the tuxedo Rarity had created so masterfully, Babs called back to her sister, ”In a m-m-minute!”

Buck! Pull youzeself togetha!

Scootaloo spread her wings, then offered her foreleg to Babs Seed. “Shall I walk you down the aisle?”

A snort escaped her paled muzzle. “N-no, Turner’s doing it.”

“I know, I’m just kidding.”

“Heh, y-yeah…”

As Babs Seed’s hooves started to tremble, Scootaloo gently brushed her side with a wing. “So, your dad is gonna walk you down the aisle? That’s awesome!”

Babs nodded. “S-sure is…”

“Hey. Relax. If anypony tries any funny business during the whole ‘If any of you think these two ponies should not be wed’ part, I’ll buck ‘em in the face. Alright?”

“Thanks, b-but… Dat’s not what I’m worried ‘bout, Scoots.”

Scootaloo sighed. “Well, then what are you worried about?”

“I…” Swallowing thickly, Babs leaned over and whispered in Scootaloo’s ear.

Scootaloo held back a laugh. “Babs, nopony’s gonna care about your accent. C’mon.”

“But—”

“And, four left hooves or not, nopony’s gonna care how you dance, even if you dance terribly! Geez, you had back surgery like, what, a couple months ago?”

“Y-yeah… I…” She sighed. “Yeah, youze is right.”

In all honesty, those were silly reasons to be afraid, and they weren’t the real one.

This day had to be perfect. And Babs Seed was far from perfect.

But maybe, just maybe, what she was, was more than enough.

Afta all, Babs thought, a beautiful mare did agree ta marry me ta-day.

Citrus knocked at the door again. ”Babs?! We really can’t stall much longer! Big Mac and Apple Bloom are gonna be heading out there soon!”

“Guess dat’s ma cue.” With one last breath, Babs Seed steadied herself, faced her fear, and nodded to Scootaloo.

One hoof after the other, they crossed the room, opened the door, and stepped into the hallway.

There stood Citrus Blossom, her eyes wide with excitement, and Page Turner, who offered his left foreleg to his daughter.

“Ready ta go, kiddo?”

Linking her right foreleg with his, Babs Seed answered, “Ready, Da’.”

Beside her, Scootaloo and Citrus shared a knowing grin, then hurried off.

“See you in a few, sis! Remember: no peeking as Apple Bloom walks ahead of you!”

Babs scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” Like youze can control ma eyes…

“Good luck, Babs! Break a leg! Er, uh, just… good luck!”

Babs almost laughed. Oh, Scoots. Neva the tactful one, were youze?

Turner tugged at her foreleg, looking down at her with a smile. Using his other forehoof, he gestured across the farmhouse, where Apple Bloom, led by Big Macintosh, could be heard leaving Applejack’s room.

Staying silent, Babs Seed listened across the hallway as Apple Bloom and Big Macintosh left from the room opposite the stallion’s, averting her eyes as instructed. Although she couldn’t see it, Apple Bloom had closed her eyes when they passed by Babs and Turner and descended down the stairs of the farmhouse to the first floor.

During their wedding planning, there had been no doubt in their minds where the ceremony would be held: on Sweet Apple Acres, of course, in the open field closest to the farmhouse.

Sweat dripped down Babs Seed’s nape as the hoof-steps of her bride and her bride’s brother faded away, traveling down the stairs and out the front door. All the while, Turner made sure she kept her eyes away, grinning as he did so.

Turner lifted her chin towards him and tightened his grip on her foreleg. “Ready ta go an’ meet youze bride?”

With a blush on her cheeks and a quiver in her voice, Babs Seed answered, “L-let’s go.”

In a slow but steady rhythm of hooves, Turner led his daughter down the stairs. Though her back protested slightly with each step, she didn’t complain, the adrenaline in her veins blocking all sense of pain.

As they trotted down the steps and out the door, Babs Seed committed these moments to memory, never wanting to lose them.

With her father stabilizing her, steadying her, smiling down at her, Babs Seed stepped out of the farmhouse and looked out towards the field and the altar.

Rows and rows of folding chairs had been neatly arranged on the grass. Celestia’s mid-afternoon sun was warm and welcoming on this Harvest Day. A light breeze tickled her mane. The colors of the leaves in all the mighty branches of the orchard reflected the brides’ own hues, shades of yellow, orange, and red, along with a prominent beige intermingling with the last apples.

At the altar stood Princess Twilight Sparkle. A podium stacked high with notecards lay in front of her. A lanky, tall tuxedoed Spike stood to her right—their ring-bearer, grinning wildly and straightening the scales on the back of his head.

Almost all of the available seats were occupied. Pinkie Pie had invited far more than their short guest list, though, in all honesty, Babs Seed didn’t mind.

Both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna sent letters indicating that they would be unable to attend the wedding, although they promised a special day and night as a gift.

From the warmth of the sun on her muzzle, Babs Seed knew that Princess Celestia had kept her promise, and held no doubts about her sister.

The sound of a sweet serenade filled her ears. Babs Seed looked down to see Featherweight, their musician, sitting at a piano beside the altar.

Two of their best stallions guided them down the aisle, while the third waited at the altar. Braeburn was gallant and striking in his tuxedo, though he still wore his Stetson, as did Applejack.

The flower-filly—well, mare—had already covered the red-carpeted aisle in a myriad of petals, roses, daisies, lilies, and others among them. Pinkie Pie hopped back to her seat in the front row, holding the empty basket in her mouth as she sat beside a smiling Granny Smith.

Down below, Apple Bloom and Big Macintosh stopped at the hill just before the aisle, waiting for the other bride and her father to join them before they continued to the altar.

Looking up, Babs Seed caught eyes with Page Turner, and nodded.

It was time.

One hoof in front of the other, Babs Seed and Page Turner reached Apple Bloom and Big Macintosh. Babs Seed, now only able to see her mare from this angle, held back the urge to gasp in awe as she and her father followed after them.

Dat dress… It’s… beautiful…

But I know it won’t be as beautiful as… her…

As soon as Apple Bloom and Big Macintosh started walking to the altar, Featherweight began playing the traditional Equestrian wedding march on the piano. All in attendance rose.

Each step bore the weight of eight years of love, of trials, of tribulations, of growing apart and coming together, of dark days and darkener nights, of joy and hope and overcoming, of becoming two and then becoming one.

Each step quaked the Earth beneath Babs Seed’s Earth pony hooves, wrought with sacred significance.

As Babs Seed walked with Page Turner down the aisle, she couldn’t help but stare up and grin at him. Never had she thought that her father would walk her down the aisle.

When he did, there were no words, only his smile.

In the seats around her, ponies grinned and winked, some dabbing at their eyes with a tissue before the ceremony even started. They were mere blurs, Babs Seed now staring straight ahead as her mare and Macintosh reached the altar.

Stopping in her tracks, Babs Seed received one last grin and pat on the shoulder before Page Turner left her side, joining Big Macintosh and Braeburn next to Spike. All three stallions grinned, their smiles sparkling in the sunlight and shining brighter than the buttons of their suits and tuxedos.

On the other side of Twilight stood Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, Silver Spoon, and Libra—their bridesmares.

In front of the mares stood Applejack, and in front of the stallions stood Citrus Blossom. Though their dresses glistened, their eyes and their muzzles sparkled more, both Mares of Honor on the verge of happy tears.

Once everypony had taken their positions, Twilight called out to the guests, “You may be seated."

Apple Bloom moved to her side of the altar. Babs Seed did the same.

And then, for the first time that day, they saw each other in the light, face-to-face.

Babs Seed, looking at her mare in the glow of Celestia’s sun, found that she seemed to shine, a wingless angel with an undeniable halo, and everything from the way her mane fell to her shoulders, to the way her red-orange eyes matched her dress, to the way she smiled shyly, a blush spreading across her cheeks, made her say, ”Youze are so beautiful, darlin’.”

Apple Bloom, looking at her mare in the radiant embrace of sunlight, found that she glistened, her precious gemstone risen from the rough, and everything from the way she smiled that perfect smile, to the way her emerald eyes shined down at her, to the way that her mane embraced her face and sharpened her features, to that adorable blush on her cheeks, made her reply, “So are you, sugarcube.”

Princess Twilight Sparkle, a broad smile on her muzzle, levitated the first of the thick stack of notecards—which nearly fell over, to the eye-roll of the dragon beside her—and began.

“Dear friends, we are gathered here today to witness the union of these two mares in holy matrimony…”

As Twilight spoke, Apple Bloom and Babs Seed held forehooves, gazing into each other’s eyes. Everything else faded away as they sought to seal this moment, to immortalize it in a way that no photograph could.

And though no words passed between them while the Princess of Magic spoke of love, of courage, of honesty, of union, of entwined lives, their eyes said everything that needed to be said.

I love you.

I love you, too.

You. Babs Seed knew how to say that word, longed to say it normally. Try as she might in the weeks leading up to today, she barely could even think it properly, much less say it.

A part of her wanted to unlearn the accent that had stuck with her all of these years, banish the last memory of Manehatten and clean her tongue.

And yet, another part of her said that she could not hide forever, that the past had shaped her as much for the better as it had for the worse, and that she could not discard one without giving up the other.

And so, minutes or hours or eternities later, when Princess Twilight Sparkle finally said, “Babs Seed, do you take this mare to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, unto death do you part?”

Babs said, “I do.”

“And Apple Bloom, do you take this mare to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, unto death do you part?”

Apple Bloom said, “Ah do.”

Princess Twilight Sparkle looked out to the crowd. “If anypony has a reason that these two ponies should not be wed, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

The wind passed through their manes, no other sound in the silence.

Twilight grinned as she turned towards him. “Spike? Do you have the rings?”

Spike walked over to the mares, smiling a wide, toothy smile as he leaned down to present the rings. On the purple, velvet pillow lay two matching hoofbands made of white gold, one with a ruby, one with an emerald.

Both mares looked up to Twilight, who nodded, gesturing for them to continue.

Picking up the ruby hoofband, her breath catching in her throat, Apple Bloom looked up into Babs Seed’s eyes. Slowly, she slipped it over her mare’s left forehoof, sliding it up to her fetlock.

“Wit’ this ring, Ah thee wed.”

Taking the emerald hoofband in her grasp, her heart hammering in her chest, Babs Seed looked down into Apple Bloom’s eyes. Carefully, she slipped it over her mare’s left forehoof, sliding it up to her fetlock.

“Wit’ dis ring, I thee wed.”

For a moment, all was silent again, the silence of lovers in their moment in time.

Grinning from ear-to-ear, her wings spread and pointed to the skies, Twilight announced, “By the power vested in me, Princess Twilight Sparkle, of Equestria, I now pronounce you, wife and wife.

“You may kiss your bride.”

And then, holding forehooves, they came together, sharing their first kiss as wife and wife in front of their friends, family, and Equestria itself, to the clapping of hooves and cheers of hoots and hollers and whistles and happy tears.

And as they pulled away, Babs Seed, blushing down at her wife, said, “I love youze, Apple Bloom.”

And Apple Bloom, blushing up at her wife, said, “Ah love you too, Babs Seed.”

And the words were just as right as they had always been.

~

Along with being in charge of the guest list, Equestria’s premier party pony had been tasked with planning the couple’s wedding reception.

Pinkie Pie did not disappoint.

Shortly after Apple Bloom and Babs Seed proceeded back down the aisle, trotting as wife and wife for the first time, Pinkie Pie, along with the musical accompaniment of Featherweight and Sweetie Belle, kicked the party into high gear.

Most Equestrian wedding receptions did not have the cutting of the cake and opening of wedding gifts the first event after the ceremony. Most Equestrian wedding receptions did not have Pinkie Pie as a party planner, either, nor any of her balloons, streamers, punch, candy, cookies, brownies, ice cream, and other diabetes-inducing concoctions of pure sugar and carbohydrate.

No matter. Right after the newlyweds cut their cake—well, shoved it in each others’ muzzles, to the laughter of everypony—and opened their gifts, it was time to dance.

“C’mon, everypony! It’s time for the brides’ first dance!” Pinkie Pie shouted at the top of her lungs while she hopped up and down on a large beach ball, which had appeared out of… somewhere.

While everypony surrounded them, Babs Seed, blushing deeply, leaned in to whisper to her wife, “I’m… I’m not sure iffa I can do dis… ‘Memba the last time I tried ta dance at a party? An’ dat was when ma back was in good shape!”

Giggling, Apple Bloom countered with another whisper, “Remember when we danced when Soapy played his song? Ya didn’t do too bad at all then, sugarcube.”

Flattening her ears, Babs mumbled, “Well… Dat’s true, but… Don’t really help us now, right?”

“Ah’ve got an idea. Wait here fer a sec.”

Before she could stop her, Apple Bloom hurried over to Sweetie Belle and Featherweight, whispering something into the mare’s ear. Sweetie looked at her in confusion, prompting Apple Bloom to whisper something again.

By now, everypony had formed a circle around Babs Seed, leaving room for her wife. “Eh, heh…” Biting her lip, Babs looked around at the sea of muzzles, all of whom were grinning in anticipation. “Um… H-hey, everypony…”

Beside Featherweight and his piano, Sweetie Belle nodded to Apple Bloom and called Pinkie over.

As Apple Bloom hurried over to save her mare from the terrifying prospect of having to dance in front of their wedding guests, Pinkie shouted towards the crowd, “Hey, EVERYPONY! Change of plans! The brides want us all to share a first dance! Isn’t that sweet?!”

The crowd responded, “Awwwww!”

Babs Seed grinned at her mare. “Dis is why I love youze.”

“Because Ah git you outta tough situations?” Apple Bloom wrapped her forehooves around her wife’s neck, pulling her close as Sweetie and Featherweight prepared their music.

Wrapping her own forehooves around her wife’s neck, Babs Seed blew a strand of mane from in front of her eyes and muttered, “Eh… Summat like dat.”

“Ah thought so. Ah always knew you were a troublemaker.”

“An’ youze still married me.”

“Maybe Ah like danger.”

“I sure hope so.”

Sweetie Belle clapped her hooves, turning the sea of ponies, most of them already coupled up for the dance, to attention. “Hey, everypony! I’m Sweetie Belle, and while I’ve only heard this song once, I hope you enjoy it!

“This is for Babs Seed and Apple Bloom, and a little place out West, where a kind old prospector and his mare once sang this very song…”

Staring at Apple Bloom in disbelief, Babs fumbled for a response, overwhelmed. “Youze… I… How did youze…”

“Ah hope ya like it, Babsy,” Apple Bloom said with a slight smile, taking the lead as the song began.

Sweetie Belle’s voice, smooth as silk, carried the notes throughout the open field. The song was far from her usual style, but it just as beautiful. As she sang, she looked over to her mare, making her blush with little more than a coy smile and a wink.

When she motioned her over, Silver Spoon didn’t hesitate, dancing with her while the unicorn continued her serenade.

All around the newlyweds, other couples—some just fledgling, others many years into their romance—danced to the song that Soapy had sung to his Dyea, in a time and a place that would never be again, except in their hearts.

Scootaloo laid on top of the piano as Featherweight hammered out the tune, dancing with him with her eyes. Featherweight’s wings soon touched the sky.

Citrus Blossom and Braeburn danced surprisingly smoothly together, the Sheriff’s coordinated hoofsteps leading the elegant mare’s, a tango of silk dress and velvet tuxedo and deep blushes on leaning muzzles.

Libra and Turner took to their hooves as well, coming together and drawing apart as they danced, a rhythm practiced but precise in their movements. Though the stallion couldn’t see it, the mare blushed just as much as he.

Big Macintosh and Applejack had their companions for the dance—Cheerilee and Caramel, both of whom were, as both farm-ponies would insist, “jus’ their good friends”.

The rest of the Elements of Harmony danced along with the song, holding their special someponies close. Rainbow Dash with Soarin, Rarity with Fluttershy, Twilight with a pegasus Royal Guard, and, of course, Pinkie Pie just being Pinkie Pie, hopping and skipping and dancing around with other couples, with groups of ponies dancing together, with those dancing on their lonesome.

And Babs Seed, leaning on Apple Bloom in more ways than one, danced too, no punchbowls becoming hats this evening, all four hooves still left but cooperating. To “Darlin’ Companion’” sung in Sweetie Belle’s voice, she shared her first dance with her mare as wife and wife.

And, as Sweetie Belle’s last notes faded out, it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

In response to the crowd’s hoots, hollers, and applause, Sweetie Belle took a bow. “Thank you! Thank you!

“And now, everypony, another song for my newly wedded friends, one that might be a little more familiar, something I wrote while I was touring in San Mareisco…”

After she cleared her throat, Sweetie Belle began her second song, keeping her eyes locked on Silver Spoon’s as Featherweight played an upbeat, happy tune to accompany her.

Closing her eyes, Babs Seed fell into the dance this time, moving her hooves in tempo with Apple Bloom’s, brushing away any lingering nervousness or doubt in her mind.

Here, on Sweet Apple Acres, surrounded by friends and family, this day had been perfect.

Jus’ wish dat… A few othas could be heeya…

”’Ey! Babs! Bloom!”

The two looked over, stopping their dance. Babs Seed’s eyes widened at the three approaching her. “Dove? Toss? Rustla?!”

The mare once known as Detective White Dove grinned and waved, parting the crowd as she trotted towards them. Clad the blue battle dress uniform of the Royal Guard, a shining, silver medal pinned to its chest pocket, it was easy to see why. Although she carried no weapons, a network of scars on her neck and chest made her look fearsome, even with her bright eyes and wide smile.

Beside her, the stallion once known as Officer Lucky Toss grinned and chuckled to the mares. An eyepatch covered his left eye socket, though his remaining eye was full of light and life. Wearing a simple blazer, undershirt, and tie, he hurried over with Dove.

And beside him was the stallion still known as Officer Rustler, who had recently been released from Manehatten General Hospital. Babs Seed and Apple Bloom had kept in touch with him throughout his recovery. The ordeal had brought him near the brink of life and death, but he was a tough ol’ stallion, like Doctor Triage would say, and the only testaments to that experience was a maze of scars along his barrel and neck. He, too, wearing his best suit and tie, was smiling.

“When did y’all get here?” Apple Bloom asked with a huge grin, she and Babs meeting them in the middle.

Any possibility of a hoofshake was cast aside. Only hugs were exchanged here, tight but careful.

“We actually made it jus’ in time. Sat down way in the back once youze two made it ta the altar an’ started makin’ dem heart-eyes at each otha. No wonda youze didn’t notice!” Toss teased with a cheeky grin.

Apple Bloom laughed, while Babs Seed just shook her head and smiled.

“Great reception!” Dove held up a plate with an enormous slice of cake on it. “Though, I think ma pancreas might be on its last hooves afta ta-day.”

Babs laughed. “Yeah, our friend Pinkie Pie sure knows how ta party!”

“So, how are youze feelin’, Babs? Back still botherin’ youze?” Rustler asked.

“Eh, a lil’. It’s gettin’ betta, though. Was able ta dance ta both o’ these songs,” Babs said, nodding as Sweetie Belle switched to another tune.

Dove nudged Apple Bloom in the ribs with a forehoof, whispering, “An’ do mo’ than jus’ dance, I bet…”

This time, both mares simply blushed in response, avoiding Dove’s eyes and each other’s. The other three just laughed good-naturedly.

When the laughter died down, Rustler tapped his chin, looking around. “Hmm…”

“Summat wrong?” Babs asked.

“No, no. It’s jus’...” Returning his eyes to the newlyweds, Rustler observed, “Looks like there’s a lotta Apples heeya on both family sides. In fact… Iffa I didn’t know any betta… I would say youze two are related.”

Babs rubbed her nape. “Oh… Heh… Well, uh—”

“We are.” Apple Bloom pulled her mare close with a sly grin. “Good observation.”

A nice piece of cake, halfway to Dove’s mouth, froze in midair. Toss took a deep drink of his glass of punch, while Rustler coughed into his forehoof.

Babs Seed looked over at Apple Bloom. Did youze… Did youze jus’ really—

“Hmm… Youze know what?” Rustler smiled. “Youze two love each otha, an’ dat’s all dat mattas, I guess. Ain’t ma business really, anyhow. ‘Sides, youze friends an’ family seems supportive o’ it.”

Nearly sighing in relief, Babs said, “Well, not all o’ dem always were, o’ are.” She thought back to several of Applejack’s invitations that had went unanswered, but shrugged. “But, ‘ey, dat’s jus’ how it goes. We’re lucky dat we have the family an’ friends we do… An’ each otha, o’ course,” she added, giving her wife a little nuzzle.

Dove grinned. “Youze know, afta everythin’, I don’t think dat really mattas anyway. Horseapples, wit’ how youze two took care o’ each otha… I’m happy fo’ youze.

“Congratulations.” Dove raised her slice of cake.

“Congratulations!” Toss raised his glass of punch.

Rustler simply said with a wider grin, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. So… What are youze three gonna do now? Iffa youze don’t mind me askin’,” Babs replied.

Dove pointed towards her uniform. “Back in the Guard. Gonna be deployed ta Griffonia soon ta escort dat damn Blueblood on some sorta trade mission. Wish me luck. I’ll send pictures.”

Toss pointed at his eye patch. “Well, wit’ dis thing, only thing I could do down at the force is a desk job, an’ I ain’t no paper-pusha, so I’m thinkin’ o’ gettin’ back inta ma real talent. Maybe hit the Las Pegasus strip, win a cool ten thousand bits o’ so. Buy some cheap place in Manehatten o’ Trottingham an’ build a casino. Maybe a pool hall iffa dat doesn’t work out.”

Rustler simply shrugged. “Still employed by the force, so… I dunno. I still got a few mo’ weeks o’ medical leave befo’ I have ta head back. Maybe I’ll take a lil’ trip first, see a bit o’ Equestria. I hear the West is the best,” he added with a grin.

Apple Bloom smiled. “It sure is.”

While Sweetie Belle switched to another song, the three started to head off, making a beeline for the snack table.

Dove checked her pocket watch. “Got a train ta catch in a few hours. I’ll try an’ say goodbye befo’ I leave. It’s great seein’ youze two ‘gain, though.”

“I understand. Good seein’ youze too. An’, uh, Dove…”

“Yeah, Babs?”

Trotting over, Babs Seed gave the mare a brief but gentle nuzzle, then looked up at her with a smile. “Thanks fo’ everythin’.”

Grinning, White Dove returned the gesture. “Youze welcome.”

After the newlyweds exchanged hugs with Lucky Toss and Rustler, the three were on the move again, a pack of their own in pursuit of sugar and the possibility of liquor.

“Hey, Babs?”

“Yeah, Bloom?”

“Ah’m gonna go back inta the house an’ freshen up. Why don’t ya go an’ mingle a bit?” Apple Bloom suggested, nodding towards the folding chairs, where several of their friends and family had sat down.

With a nod, Babs said, “Sure, Bloom. See youze in a few.”

Apple Bloom hurried off, a coy grin on her muzzle.

As she headed over towards the seats, Babs Seed’s eyes widened.

There, sitting in a chair by herself, wearing a lovely dress of her own, was Diamond Tiara.

Babs Seed, having spent most of the time between Manehatten and the wedding sleeping—or barely awake on a particularly strong painkiller Zecora had provided—hadn’t had much input on the guest list, only insisting that Dove, Rustler, and Toss were to be invited.

Then again, almost two years had passed, and her last encounter with Diamond Tiara at Pinkie Pie’s graduation party for their class had been somewhat redeeming.

Lifting up her left forehoof to look at her hoofband, Babs Seed felt a sudden surge of guilt, realizing now where Apple Bloom had obtained the rings. She had refused to tell her, and, now, understood why.

Fighting the worse angels of her nature, Babs Seed trotted across the field, down the hill, and towards the last row of folding chairs.

“Diamond Tiara?”

A forehoof rested against her chin, Diamond Tiara looked up. “Oh… Hello, Babs,” she said plainly.

To Babs Seed’s surprise, there was no venom, no vitriol, not even the faintest hint of disdain in her voice.

“Um… Can I talk ta youze?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

With a small, pained grunt, Babs Seed sat down on the chair beside her, bracing her hindhooves against the grass. She was certainly testing her back today.

Before she could begin, Diamond looked up at her again, smiling. “Congratulations.”

“Th-thanks.”

“Both you and Apple Bloom look beautiful.”

“Aw, well…” Forcing a chuckle, Babs insisted, “She’s the beautiful one. Rarity jus’ happened ta make summat dat made me look betta than usual.”

Diamond said nothing, still looking up at her.

Babs stared down at her hindhooves. “Look, um, Diamond—”

“If you want me to leave, I can leave.”

Babs tilted her head. “Leave? Why would I want youze ta leave?”

Diamond scoffed. “I would want me to leave. If you want me to, I understand. It’s your wedding day, after all.”

Babs quickly raised both of her forehooves. “No, no, Diamond… Dat’s not why I came ova heeya.”

This time, Diamond simply raised an eyebrow.

Babs sighed, resting her forehooves in her lap. “Er… Look. I… I know I apologized ta youze a couple years ‘go, but I still feel kinda guilty ‘bout what happened when we were foals. I shouldn’t have reacted ta youze the way I did.”

Diamond opened her mouth, then closed it. Looking away her, she said slowly, “I… I see. Well… I forgive you. That was a long time ago.”

“Y-yeah.” Sighing, Babs rubbed her neck. “Listen, um, there’s anotha thing…”

Waiting until Diamond Tiara looked back at her, Babs Seed took a breath, then said, “I, um… I really wanted ta thank youze.”

“Thank me for what?”

Babs Seed held out her left forehoof, the ruby hoofband on her fetlock glistening in the sun. “Fo’ dis. Fo’ both o’ ‘em.”

“Oh…” A slight tinge of crimson spread across Diamond’s muzzle. “I… I told Apple Bloom not to tell anypony that I made them.”

“She didn’t tell me. I figured it out.”

Diamond’s eyes widened.

“Oh, c’mon! I’m not really dat thick, am I?”

“Didn’t it take you four years to realize that you loved her?”

“... Good point.”

A small chuckle escaped Diamond’s lips. Dismissing her with a forehoof, she said, “Well, anyway… You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked them.”

“Yeah…” Trailing off, Babs Seed asked, “Though… Why?”

Diamond Tiara turned around in her seat, facing her fully now. “Why what?”

“Why did you make dem fo’ us?”

Diamond shrugged. “It was a nice thing to do.”

Babs snorted. “C’mon. Youze aren’t exactly widely known fo’ youze generosity.”

“Maybe I’ve changed,” Diamond challenged.

“Maybe so. But dat still doesn’t tell me why.”

Diamond held her gaze with Babs for a few moments, staring intensely at her. Then, with a sigh, she shook her head and laid her forehooves in her lap, looking down. “I wanted to do something nice for you two because I felt guilty, alright?”

Babs’s ears pricked. “Youze? Felt guilty?”

“Yeah, I did. I treated you and Apple Bloom like… like shit when we were growing up, and it was all because of one stupid word.”

“What word?”

Diamond turned to her. “Do you remember what happened when Silver and I confronted you at the train station, right before you left to return to Manehatten? After the Harvest Day Parade?”

Babs nodded.

“You said… I dunno, something about how you were going to tell my mother about my bad attitude. Something like that.”

Babs nodded again.

Taking a deep breath of her own, Diamond Tiara said quietly, “My mother died when I was very young.”

Silence.

If Diamond Tiara’s eyes had widened to the size of dinner plates before, Babs Seed’s had widened to the size of the whole table, and maybe more.

“Um… Uh… Aw, shit.” Shaking her head, Babs brought her forehooves to her muzzle. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Diamond! Iffa I would have known ‘bout dat, there’s no way—”

Diamond held up a forehoof. “I know you didn’t know. I know you wouldn’t have said it if you knew. But back then, I took things like that hard, and the only way I knew how to deal with my pain was to hurt everypony around me.

“I pushed the other foals away, I pushed Silver Spoon away when she had feelings for me… And… I…”

Diamond’s words were trembling now. The mare bit her lip and looked away again. Babs Seed looked into her eyes, finding herself reflected in them.

“... I… I finally told my father… Some… things about myself, and… I’m not living with him anymore…”

“Diamond, I’m… I’m so sorry…”

Without warning, Babs Seed wrapped a forehoof around the other mare and pulled her close. Diamond Tiara simply laid her head on her shoulder, sniffling.

A minute or so passed before Diamond Tiara looked up at Babs Seed, smiling slightly. “Th-thanks.”

Releasing the mare from her grip, Babs said, “Youze welcome. An’, ‘ey, give it time. It took ma motha almost eight years ta truly be happy fo’ me an’ Apple Bloom. Maybe youze fatha jus’ needs some time too?”

“Yeah… Maybe…” Diamond Tiara said with a smile, “Thank you.”

“No, thank youze fo’ the rings, Diamond. Dey’re beautiful.”

“Thank you. I worked hard on those.”

“Youze should open up youze own jewelry store.”

“I hope to someday.”

Babs grinned. “Maybe youze can come ta Appleloosa an’ open shop next ta ma sis. Once I’m all healed up an’ back in shape, me an’ Bloom gonna be headin’ there fo’ a week o’ two to build her clothin’ store.”

Diamond smiled. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

When the silence settled again, it was not heavy, nor unwelcome, but pleasant.

Looking around, Babs Seed asked one more question of Diamond Tiara. “So… Youze came heeya by youzeself?”

“Ye… Yeah. Silver Spoon already saw me. She wasn’t as willing to talk.”

“I see. Well…” Rising to her hooves, Babs Seed offered her a forehoof and a smile. “Dat means youze probably haven’t danced wit’ anypony yet, have youze?”

Diamond stiffened. “Are you really asking me to dance with you on your wedding day? Is that such a good idea?”

Babs Seed pointed over to the crowd of ponies, many of whom had switched dancing partners. Sweetie Belle was currently dancing with Featherweight as she sang, while Scootaloo twirled Silver Spoon.

“Dancin’ can jus’ be fo’ fun, youze know! Scoots is as straight as a board an’ she’s dancin’ wit’ Silva. Sweetie… Well, I dunno, but I know she doesn’t have the hots fo’ Feathaweight, no offense ta him.”

Diamond Tiara looked from Babs Seed’s proffered forehoof, to the crowd of dancing, laughing, celebrating ponies, and back again.

Then, with a light blush on her muzzle, she stood up, accepted her forehoof, and followed behind her to dance among the others.

~

After her dance with Diamond Tiara ended, Babs Seed waited a few more minutes for Apple Bloom to return, chatting with Silver Spoon, Sweetie Belle, and Featherweight. The three of them noticed Diamond leaving Babs’s side after Sweetie’s last number—Pinkie Pie now heading the “musical” part of the reception, which currently consisted of “99 Buckets Of Oats On The Wall”—but chose not to comment on it. The presence of the hoof-made hoofbands on both brides’ left forehooves was good an explanation as any.

“So, what are you and Apple Bloom going to do next?” Sweetie asked with a cheerful grin. “Run off to Las Pegasus and become showmares? Camp out in the Crystal Mountains? Join up with a gang of pirates and sail the mighty seas?”

Babs shrugged. “Eh, I dunno yet. Once I’m back in tip-top shape, we’re gonna be in Appleloosa a bit ta help Citrus build her store. Applejack probably will be needin’ some help in the spring wit’ plantin’. Though, iffa we’re not heeya, I’m sure Caramel will do dat jus’ fine…”

Scootaloo pretended to retch. “Ugh! Well, at least she finally found somepony. Geez, I was starting to think she might go and adopt a bunch of cats!”

“’Ey! Dat’s ma sister-in-law youze talkin’ ‘bout!”

Silver Spoon pointed out, “Um, isn’t she still technically your cousin?”

Babs rolled her eyes. “Eh, whateva. Fancy genetics.”

Featherweight laughed, patting Babs on her good shoulder. “Well, before you head off on a wild adventure again, the six of us should go do something fun! Catch up! Maybe share some stories. I do have to admit… I kinda would like some inside scoop on the Manehatten business for the Cloudsdale Gazette... If, and when, you’re both ready.”

“Um… I dunno, Feathaweight. I’ll have ta talk wit’ Bloom ‘bout it sometime.”

Babs simply left it at that. Scars could be emotional and spiritual as well as physical, and she wasn’t quite sure if she would be willing to open up hers just yet for them, or for anypony that hadn’t been there. Even Turner, Big Macintosh, and Braeburn didn’t know the full story yet.

“There ya are!”

Babs spun around. Apple Bloom returned, looking as lovely as ever, Applejack, Big Macintosh, Braeburn, and Citrus by her side. They joined the others, forming a circle.

Apple Bloom nuzzled her wife’s neck. “Did ya behave while Ah was gone?”

Scootaloo pointed over at Babs Seed. “Oh, Bloom, you should’ve seen her! She grabbed the punch bowl, slammed it over Featherweight’s head—”

Featherweight glared at her. “Hey!”

“—Then grabbed all of the remaining wedding cake, ate it one slice after another, then punted Pinkie Pie into the south orchard when she tried to grab a crumb!”

Everypony, Featherweight excluded, laughed. The slightly offended stallion merely turned up his snout at his mare, who placated him with a nuzzle to his wings.

Apple Bloom giggled into a forehoof, shaking her head. “So, perfectly normal then?”

“Eeyup!” Big Macintosh and Babs Seed answered in union, making everypony laugh again.

Applejack turned to the newlyweds, grinning from ear to ear. Throwing a forehoof around each of their shoulders, she said, “Ah’m so proud o’ y’all. You both did an’ looked great ta-day! An’ it was ‘bout time, too. If Granny wasn’t gonna bring out her shotgun, Ah think Ah woulda settled for ol’ Bucky McGillicuddy an’ Kicks McGee!”

“Aw, c’mon, AJ, youze know dat woulda been a bad move.”

“Fer you, yes.” Applejack chuckled. “Now…” Nudging her head towards the horizon, she said, “Looks like it’s gettin’ pretty late. You two ready ta turn in fer the night?”

“‘Turn in’?” Babs looked over to see that the sun had begun to set. “It’s not even dusk yet.”

“Eeyup, but Miss Pinkie Pie is holdin’ another reception down at Sugar Cube Corner fer everypony stayin’ in town,” Big Macintosh said.

“An’, considerin’ that yer gonna need yer rest, missy,” Applejack added, poking Babs Seed lightly in the chest, “Ah think that it would be best if Mac, Granny, an’ Ah maybe stay wit’ the Cakes ta-night after the second reception.”

Shooting her a sideways glance, Babs said warily, “Uh… okay then… Where is Granny anyhow?”

From beside the punch table, Granny Smith replied, “Tryin’ ta git ma teeth outta the applesauce! Dagnabit!”

Apple Bloom giggled. “Oh, Granny.”

Applejack face-hoofed. “Not the applesauce, Granny!”

Big Mac glanced at the newlyweds. “If y’all are tired, feel free ta head back in. Most everypony’s headin’ back home.”

“Yeah,” Sweetie said with a grin, “it is getting kinda late, huh, Silver Spoon?”

Silver Spoon nodded. “Oh, yes. We’d better get back to our hotel soon.”

Scootaloo wiggled her eyebrows towards Featherweight. “Yes, it is rather late, huh, Feather?”

Blushing profusely, Featherweight mumbled, “I told you not to call me that in public…”

Apple Bloom took Babs Seed’s forehoof in her own. “Ready ta head back, Babsy?”

Blushing from her muzzle to the tip of her tail, Babs Seed was a fire ruby compared to Featherweight as all eyes and muzzles turned to her.

Scootaloo poorly concealed her laughter, holding her forehooves over her muzzle. “Babsy?! Bahahaha!”

Ignoring her, Babs mustered a weak smile towards her mare, then said to the others, “Um… S-sure. Er… Um, goodnight, everypony.”

“Goodnight!” Sweetie, Silver, and Featherweight said.

“Goodnight! See ya two in the mornin’!” Applejack said.

“Eeyup. Night!” Mac said.

“Goodnight, Babsy!” Scootaloo almost doubled over in laughter.

Turning around, Babs gritted her teeth, groaning.

With a giggle, Apple Bloom kissed her cheek. “Jus’ ignore Scoots. She’s havin’ a bit too much fun, sure, but it’s best ta jus’ let her have it. ‘Sides, you like yer nickname, don’t you?”

Babs Seed looked away, her coat shifting completely from orange to red. “Y-yes… A lot…”

“Ah thought so,” Apple Bloom said with a smug grin.

While the skies above slowly cast the fires of dusk, the newlyweds headed towards the farmhouse, the last of their guests making their way towards Sugar Cube Corner or back home.

~

Libra and Turner stood next to Citrus and Braeburn, the last cups of punch in their forehooves. “So, Citrus, Braeburn… Where are you two staying tonight?”

Swirling his drink in the cup, Braeburn laughed and avoided his aunt’s gaze, rubbing his neck. “Well, Auntie, Ah… Um… Ah didn’t really—”

“Actually, we’re going back to Appleloosa tonight, mother,” Citrus said with a grin.

Libra laughed, shaking her muzzle. “Of course you two are.”

Turner patted Braeburn on the shoulder, then whispered something in his ear. The Sheriff pulled away, blood rushing to his cheeks while the other stallion snickered.

Giving him a playful nudge to the ribs, Libra asked, “What did you just say to him, Turner?”

“Oh, nothin’,” Turner replied with a smirk. “Nothin’ at all.”

Libra Scales just rolled her eyes.

“Say…” Looking around, Turner raised both eyebrows. “Where are Babs and Bloom?”

Looking to the skyline, Citrus answered with a cheeky smile, “Oh, I think I know…”

Her mother smacked her on the shoulder.

Once Braeburn regained some control of the colors on his face, he finished his glass of punch and turned to Citrus Blossom. “Well, ya wanna wait an’ say goodnight an’ all ta the lucky mares, o’ should we head off?”

Finishing her own drink, Citrus said, “The train leaves in less than an hour, so… We actually better hurry.”

Braeburn stomped the grass with a forehoof. “Dangit. Ah only got ta talk ta ‘em a lil’ bit after the ceremony.”

“Oh, don’t worry. They’re probably going to be staying here for a little while longer, at least until they get things sorted out. You’ll know where to find them. Not to mention that they’ll be coming to Appleloosa to help with your store, Citrus,” Libra said.

Adjusting the brim of his Stetson, Braeburn said with a light laugh, “Heh, thanks, Auntie. Yer right. Ready ta go, Citrus?”

Citrus raised a forehoof. “One thing first…” Pointing to the zipper on the back of her dress, she asked “Can somepony help me out of this? I don’t want to get my custom, hoof-made dress created by the Rarity—” her pupils dilated, shining as she let loose a slight, fangirlish squeal—”to get dirty on the train.”

With a blush, Braeburn began to approach Citrus, only to be stopped short by Libra Scales with a forehoof to his shoulder.

“Easy, Braeburn. I’ll take care of this.”

“Y-yes, Auntie.”

Libra smirked. “I’ve had almost eight years for the ones today. Nowhere near enough time for you two.”

Facehoofing, Citrus rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Oh, mother.”

Turner laughed and laughed, almost spilling his punch on his suit.

A few quick movements of her hooves later, and Citrus stepped out of her dress, then carefully folded it. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Of course. Page, would you like to accompany us?”

His eyes bulging in mid-drink of his punch, Turner slammed the cup down on the table. “S-sure, Libra! Of course!”

“Thank you.”

While Citrus and Libra trotted ahead, seeking first to say goodnight and goodbye to Applejack, Big Macintosh, and Granny Smith, Braeburn and Turner trailed behind.

“So, Turner…”

“Yea, Brae?”

“Will Ah be seein’ ya back home?”

“Apparently so. Libra doesn’t really seem like she wants me ta leave,” Turner replied, grinning as his muzzle turned crimson. “Not dat I really mind.”

Braeburn grinned. “That’s what Ah thought.” Pulling him into a sideways-hug, he said, “Welcome ta the family, Turner.”

Turner hugged him back tightly. “It’s good ta finally have one,” he said, avoiding the other stallion’s eyes, more dust irritating his own.

Braeburn, some of the same dust in his own pupils, replied, “It sure is. Ah wouldn’t trade it fer the world.”

~

When Apple Bloom and Babs Seed reached the top of the farmhouse stairs, the smaller mare supporting the larger with a gentle forehoof looped around her neck, they paused, taking in the moment.

Then, Apple Bloom stepped towards Babs Seed, resting her head on her shoulder. Her breath warm on her cheek, she said in a needless whisper, “Whenever yer ready, sugarcube, Ah’m—eep!”

In one swift motion, Babs Seed wrapped her forehooves around Apple Bloom’s barrel and stood up on her hindhooves, holding her close to her chest. Chuckling, she looked down at the mare in her forehooves and said with a faint blush, “S-sorry. Didn’t mean ta scare ya.”

“Scare me?” Apple Bloom giggled and wrapped her forehooves around her mare’s neck. “Naw, jus’ surprised me a lil'. Didn’t expect ta be held like a princess on ma weddin’ night,” she added, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“Heh, well… Youze deserve it, darlin’,” Babs said, lowering her eyelids as she gazed down at her wife, making her blush.

After returning the kiss, Babs stood as tall as she could, groaning along with her protesting back. She shuffled her hooves and started towards the door, holding Apple Bloom securely in her grasp.

Apple Bloom looked up to see her wife gritting her teeth. “Are ya sure ya should—“

“It’s alright. Jus’ a few mo’ steps.”

“Ya sure?” Apple Bloom heard her mare’s breathing become heavy. “It’s alright, sugar, Ah can jus’ walk in wit’ you.”

Shaking her head, Babs Seed grasped the doorknob with her free forehoof. “Jus’… relax…”

While she pushed the door open and crossed the threshold, Babs Seed looked down at Apple Bloom, her best friend, her mare, her wife.

Her princess, her sunset, her everything.

Babs Seed closed the door behind them with a hindhoof, then locked it. Grinning in spite of the ache in her spine, she said quietly to the princess in her forehooves, “Wasn’t gonna let a lil’ pain stop me. I’ve wanted ta do dis fo’ far too long.”

Apple Bloom smiled back and reached up to her, bringing her forehooves to her cheeks as she tenderly kissed her snout. Her blush matching her wife’s, she quietly replied to the princess holding her, “Me too, sugarcube. Me too.”

For a moment, all was silent, Babs Seed holding Apple Bloom in their room in the farmhouse, on Sweet Apple Acres, where they both belonged.

~

Wife and wife, mare and mare held each other, coming together in body, heart, mind, and soul. They shared a long, passionate kiss as they held each other close, lying on their sides in the bed.

When Babs Seed opened her eyes to find Apple Bloom looking at her, nothing had changed from that night eight years ago.

Though the filly in her forehooves had long become a mare—and not just any mare, but a beautiful mare, a wonderful mare, the mare who saved her life—there was still that same spark in her eyes, that same glint, that same light in those same gems that made her blush, that made her sigh, that made her feel safe and warm and loved.

If somepony would have told Babs Seed eight years ago that she was going to marry that filly, she would have laughed them straight to Tartarus.

Here, on the other side of Heaven, there was no better place.

Babs Seed, here with Apple Bloom, was right where she needed to be.

And Babs Seed, sighing like a furnace as she settled against her mare’s chest, couldn’t have imagined anything else.

All the aches and pains of her foalhood, her doubts, her fears—all of them dissipated into the nothingness they were as she laid there with the love of her life, the mare she was destined to marry.

Somewhere, Babs Seed knew, there were two mares and a stallion smiling down at them from the night sky beyond their window, as were others, precious others.

And while she was far from ready to meet them, the fact that they were here in this moment of love and union was enough to bring tears of joy to her eyes.

Looking up, Babs Seed found Apple Bloom smiling down at her, a pair of tears shining in her own fiery rubies.

Letting them fall, Babs Seed whispered, "I love you so much, Apple Bloom."

Letting her tears match her mare’s, Apple Bloom whispered back, "Ah love you too, Babs Seed."

They wiped each other’s tears, smiling all the while.

When their eyes were dry, Apple Bloom asked, "Do ya think you can sleep on yer side?"

Babs Seed shook her head. "I... I don't think so. I think I need to be on ma stomach still."

"Alright, sugarcube."

With Apple Bloom's gentle hooves holding her, Babs flopped onto her stomach, then inched closer to her mare. Wrapping her forehooves around her neck, she leaned down, snuggling into her wife's chest.

Carefully, Apple Bloom embraced her, keeping her close, and warm, and safe, like she always had and always would.

“Goodnight, Bloom,” Babs Seed whispered, willing but unable to fight a losing battle against her heavy eyelids.

Apple Bloom stroked her mane. “Goodnight, Babsy.”

Here, in the silence, Babs Seed laid in the forehooves of the mare who had saved her so long ago, and she had saved even longer ago, together at last in the eyes of the All.

When one ended, the other began, a blend no more of coats and eyes and blood, but of hearts—strong, steady, surpassing everything that had been thrown their way, with no intention of ever coming apart or ceasing to be.

It was not the end tonight, nor even the end of their beginning—it was the beginning of the beginning, starting over, tabula rasa, having been born as two and now brought into one.

And, as she began slowly slipping into sleep, Babs Seed knew that, she had nothing to fear in this new beginning.

Under Luna’s unsuspecting moon, in spite of everything they had been through and would continue to fight through, in spite of the healing, and the memories, and the nightmares, Babs Seed knew that they had friends, family, and each other.

And… love.

And love, as always, is enough.

Everythin' will be alright, Babs Seed thought as she closed her eyes, as long as I have youze, Apple Bloom.

As long as I have youze.

Author's Notes:

Thank you to everyone who has followed me since Tangled Roots. I truly adore all of you for coming along with me on this journey.

I have loved writing this story since day one, and I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much.

Take care and God Bless!