Follows A Little Spark: Sc.30-33


                                            >Children have always fascinated you, in some sort of distant, academic way.

                                            >Babies, however, have all the downsides of children and then some, with hardly any positives to their accursed names.

                                            >A vestigial religious part of you is convinced all babies are born inhabited by demons, which can only be fully exorcised by good parenting over two decades.

                                            >You were extremely glad, then, when Princess Cadance and Shining Armor left Flurry Heart with Twilight, outside the room you’ve re-purposed into a sort of living room and office.

                                            >Shining had whispered something to her, while handing over the foal, something that had her shoot you a glance.

                                            >Between that and the royal guard outside whispering something to Shining, there was a lot of secrets in your embassy that you weren’t in the loop on.

                                            >Well, you had a big one of your own, stored in boxes in a forgotten side room, but who’s counting, really?

                                            >Besides you. You’re counting.

                                            >Cadance, you notice, does that same bouncy trot that Twilight does when she’s happy. Must be where Twilight got it from, if Cadance had been responsible for some of her upbringing.

                                            >Cadance is apparently happy all the time. Even when calm and relatively stationary, she’s always gently swaying in some sort of subtle bliss, with a warm smile on her face.

                                            >Frankly, you feel happy just being near her. To the point that you’re able to quantify it; unable to resist an easy and informal experiment, on your way over you moderated your distance from her, noting how your mood changed as you did.

                                            >You can only conclude she’s some sort of empath, as capable of broadcasting love and positivity as you’ve heard she is at detecting it.

                                            >Shining Armor is much more stoic and reserved, but basks in his wife’s aura of joy like an cold man before a raging fire.

                                            >It’s very strange seeing a couple that approaches gender dispositions you’re familiar with, but at the same time it’s comforting.

                                            >Comforting is what they’ve pulled you aside to do, and with Cadance here, they’re exceedingly efficient at it.

                                            >Cadance is looking you up and down like a delicious cut of meat, not that ponies here eat any.

                                            >Shining Armor is looking between you two with a strained smile.

                                            >”Ah, sorry Anon, my wife can be-”

                                            >”So you’re Twilight’s lover!”

                                            >The pink alicorn is sitting at the edge of her seat, and leaning forward to boot, her wings extended out behind her for balance.

                                            “Well, that’s a little much.”

                                            >”You can’t lie to me about affairs of the heart.”

                                            “No, I mean ‘lover’. We haven’t, ah-”

                                            >You eye Shining sidelong

                                            “-haven’t made love yet. So maybe not the most accurate term.”

                                            >”Oh! I’m sorry. I thought- no, that might be a couple weeks out still?” She ends the question with a look to her husband.

                                            >Who rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why you’re asking me. I’m surprised you even remember.”

                                            >”It pays to know these details about those you care about, love.”

                                            “What details?”

                                            >”You’ll see!” Cadance leans forward again. “So, I imagine you have a lot of questions about your new life, being from another world and all.”

                                            “You’re getting ahead of the situation again. I’m still getting used to the idea of living here as my new life; living with Twilight is a life yet to come, if it happens.”

                                            >”It will.” Cadance beams at you. “But if we’re getting ahead of ourselves, start us at the beginning. How did you two meet?”

                                            “Work, I suppose. I managed to rope her into some of the side projects I’d been doing to fill time. She got interested enough to start helping me understand magic, and we worked on combining them. Honestly, I never intended any of this. I was just happy to have a friend.”

                                            >”That,” Cadance said, her smile gentler – no, her entire demeanor overhauled in a moment, less bubbly and more sensitive, “is how it often begins. A lot of ponies are caught up in gestures, or courtship, or wooing, but love grows separate from any of that. All those do is create an opening. Friendship – and doesn’t she know about that – is the spark from which the flame of love can grow. And a great fire follows a little spark! Oh, I love it when it develops so naturally.”

                                            “Yeah, and I wouldn’t have a problem with it, if I hadn’t gotten tangled up with another mare.”

                                            >”Oooh.” Cadance shoots a grin at her husband. “Scandalous.”

                                            >She’s flipping her attitude like a switch, from motherly wisdom to teenage excitement. It would throw you off if you haven’t been swept up in its soothing wake, an effect you’re fairly sure she’s actively dictating with whatever her unique variety of magic is.

                                            >Honestly, she can keep doing it. You’ve always felt so uptight when talking about this; it highlighted just how out of place you are in this world. This externally imposed relaxation is a welcome relief.

                                            “I’ve been led to believe that’s pretty common around here.”

                                            >”Oh, absolutely. But a stallion thawing the time-lost Luna’s heart, it’s both thrilling and enigmatic.”

                                            “Well, she and I understand each other on things no other ponies can.”

                                            >”Entirely reasonable, and a good connection to have. Such burdens are always more easily carried with one you love.”

                                            “So, uh, how did you know it was Luna?”

                                            >Her eyes sparkle. “You can’t lie to me about affairs of the heart.”

                                            “Not even by omission, I guess. Thing I’m caught up on is that herding didn’t exist back home. I have no idea how to do it.”

                                            >”Do it?”

                                            “Yeah, like how it all comes together. How the participants, uh, fit into place, I guess.”

                                            >Cadance looks you over. “Twilight wasn’t wrong about you being very unstallionine. You’re thinking about it like it’s a machine, not ponies’ emotions.”

                                            “Yeah. Not a lot of experience to work off.”

                                            >Cadance tilts her head in a pitying expression. “That’s a shame. From what Twilight tells me, you’re very sweet.”

                                            “I’d trust her assessment over mine. But, ah, you two are exclusive. Isn’t that rare?”

                                            >”Love, Anon, works in mysterious ways. We’re privileged by our position to be able to do this; normally unicorn-influenced societies like Canterlot or the Crystal Empire’s upper crust wouldn’t abide it, but we have the clout to have our way. I’m grateful, because truth be told-”

                                            >The look she gives Shining then screams absolute devotion, like her entire world is compressed into the space he occupies. You’re hit with a tinge of something you’d almost call worship when he looks back at her with his own smile, and you’re positive that emotional effect wasn’t intentional; it’s too out of place with the effect she’d been creating so far. Her feelings slipped into her broadcast despite herself.

                                            >“-I don’t think we could include another without hurting them.”

                                            “Hurting them?”

                                            >She looks back at you, and the unintentional effects fade. “Love cannot be diminished by spreading it, Anon. If you love more than one pony – true, selfless, devoted love – they will know, and it will work out fine. But love can be diminished other ways. If it isn’t cared for, if it’s spread unequally, or if it’s compartmentalized. If the one loving does not love themselves. Some – like Shining and I – are too caught up in each other, too busy giving each other all we have, that another would be left out. And in a herd, one has to love love itself. Not receiving it, but giving it.”

                                            “I… I don’t know if I can do all that. I’ve never had to think of all that before.”

                                            >“Your love for Twilight is different than your love for Luna. You might not be able to understand that, I think you’re just confused, but I can see it. They come from different places, and express themselves through different means. This is good; you’ll never need to worry about dividing it.”

                                            “But what about the two of them?”

                                            >Another gentle smile. “Surely you have family, in your old home. Family that you loved?”

                                            >You nod.

                                            >”There are many kinds of love, Anon. They don’t have to be attracted to each other. Though some mares may love other mares of the herd as they love the stallion, there is also the love of a deep friendship, or the love of family ties. There is a form of love in fundamental, unconditional respect. There’s the love of altruistic bonding, and the love of working in harmony for common aims. Any will do between the mares of your herd.”

                                            >You are, on some level, aware of what she’s getting at. You loved your parents, after all, and you loved your work, which definitely wasn’t romantic. You know terms like brotherly love and platonic love. You’re just not used to hearing it all spelled out like this.

                                            >It makes a lot of sense.

                                            “So do I just trust them to work it out?”

                                            >”I don’t see a reason why it shouldn’t. Just remember the stallion’s partially responsible for keeping everything together. If a dispute arises, don’t be afraid to step in.”

                                            “I think I can do that.”

                                            >Cadance rocks back, wearing a manic grin again. “Then when’s the wedding?”

                                            “Holy hell, give me some time to get used to everything, will you? Not enough for Celestia to be breathing down my back, huh?”

                                            >Confusion flits across Cadance’s features. “Is she giving you a hard time?”

                                            “Kinda. Mostly teasing me, and being really flirty.”

                                            >Cadance frowns. “Strange.”

                                            “You’re telling me.”

                                            >Shining looks over to his wife. “You could talk to her about it. It’d give Anon and I some time to talk about stallion stuff.”

                                            >”That’s a good idea, love.” She stands and turns to Shining, then the two of them do that thing where they press their snouts together.

                                            >You’ve been wondering if that’s a pony’s version of a kiss ever since Twilight did it to you.

                                            >One of Cadance’s ears perk towards you the moment your recollection of that moment settles into your mind, and when she disengages from Shining, she winks at you before turning to leave.

                                            >Once she’s out – her emotional influence fading away, restoring somewhat disheartening normalcy – Shining sighs and shakes his head. “Sorry, my wife can get over-eager about these affairs.”

                                            “Well that’s sorta her thing, isn’t it? Princess of love and all that. Does it, uh, ever bother you? That she could just be planting the love in your head?”

                                            >”What? No, she can’t do that.”

                                            “Why not?”

                                            >”Because it’s my love in the first place. The positive emotions she uses to lift everyone’s spirits, those are mine, how I feel for her, how I feel about being around her. She just selects the one she wants from them, amplifies it, and sends it on its way. Back home, love keeps eternal winter at bay, so we’re used to using fire metaphors. By those terms, I’m the fuel for her inferno. When I first learned of her ability, I was worried it was the opposite. That she loved me only because of what I felt for her. She told me later it started when she saw how I felt for my sister; she fell for me because how devoted I was to family, and how eager I was to protect them.”

                                            >He chuckles. “So, while we’re on that topic… About Twily.”

                                            >Shit, this is going to be some sort of life-or-death interview, isn’t it?

                                            >Your mind quickly races through what a powerful unicorn could do to someone who’s displeased them, with their magic.

                                            >You don’t like what you’re thinking up.

                                            >”You haven’t told her you love her yet, have you?”

                                            >That detracks all those thoughts.

                                            “I, uh, well, I guess it’s sorta implied… how could you tell?”

                                            >”There was a big difference in how Cadance was acting based off of what she felt coming from you and how you responded. You’re in love - probably already committed to her, from Cadance's comments - but you haven’t done much about it.”

                                            “I, er, I guess you can say that, yeah.”

                                            >”Besides,” he smiles, “I’m a stallion, we have a feel for these things.”

                                            “No offense, but you two are the closest I’ve ever seen ponies to what the dynamic would look like back home. Stoic stallion, sensitive mare. I thought the opposite was the norm here.”

                                            >”There’s no reason it can’t be both. I was a captain of the guard, here, and I lead them in the Crystal Empire. But my leadership is founded on my appreciation and respect for those under me. I pride myself on making a personal connection with every one I can, and being able to predict their wants and needs. That’s stallion sensitivity. Cadance isn’t above using her abilities for utilitarian ends, you’ve never seen her use her powers to influence a crowd like a conductor leading an orchestra; deft gestures and subtle tweaking bringing everyone into harmony. When she needs to be, she’s all business, and when it’s called for, she’ll be your stoic mare.”

                                            “So, uh, maybe you can help me after all. Twilight says there was something I could talk to you about. Just you.”

                                            >He leans forward, in a nearly comical imitation of his wife earlier, though less barely restrained energy. “What’s that?”

                                            >You glance to the door Cadance exited.

                                            “They’re going to outlive us.”

                                            >”Ah.”

                                            “How do you handle that?”

                                            >He sighs. “My wife’s work isn’t all smiles and romance. A sad truth; every marriage ends with one member watching the others die, and continuing on alone.”

                                            >You slump in your chair.

                                            “Fuck, that’s depressing.”

                                            >”Cadance may specialize in the positive emotions – love, happiness, satisfaction, and so on – but she can feel anything. Jealousy, depression, arrogance. Grief. Her self-control, her sheer willpower, keeps her together in the face of it all. That ultimate implacability is the most maresculine thing I’ve ever known, no matter how whimsical she behaves. We’ve had a lot of time to think about those things, Anon, and a lot of nights we weren’t given a choice, if we were alone and something caught her off guard."

                                            >He shakes his head. “In the end, we’re no different than every other couple or herd. It’ll come down to one outliving the other. We’re just cursed with the knowledge of who it will be.”

                                            “I can’t leave them to that. I can’t just fucking disappear on them, leaving nothing but memories.”

                                            >”You’re not talking about death, then. You’re talking about a legacy, some way you can continue making a difference in their life after you’re gone.”

                                            “Yeah. You two have a kid. Er, a foal. I can’t do that for your sister, or any pony. And that hurts, man. That hurts a lot more than I thought it would. I can’t fulfill the most basic desire of a family. Your sister just sorta brushed it off-”

                                            >”Heh, she would.”

                                            “-but I just cant do that to them.”

                                            >”She tells me you’re quite the inventor, Anon. You’ll have plenty of creations that live on.”

                                            “Yeah, and I have something special planned for her, but I don’t know how she’d take it.”

                                            >”Like what?”

                                            >You straighten your back and eye him more critically.

                                            “I can’t tell you that, sorry.”

                                            >”Ah, it’s fine. I doubt I’d understand it anyway. I still have no idea how you two made those claws of hers.”

                                            “Trust me, it was a lot of work. But in a way, those were sort of the start of all this. No, it was as your wife said. A spark started it. A literal one, awhile ago, when I stuck two wires to a chunk of quartz and asked her to squeeze.”

                                            >You can’t help but laugh at yourself.

                                            “It was such a stupid little thing. We had no idea what we were getting into, in more ways than one. I can only hope that whatever I leave behind for her is as magnificent as that first moment was silly and trivial.”

                                            >”With an attitude like that, I’m sure you’ll leave her something worthy of your love.”

                                            >You look up at him.

                                            “That simple?”

                                            >“That simple.”

                                            >You fall to the backrest and sigh.

                                            “I guess it’s all I can try for, then. Thanks.”

                                            >”We’re going to be family, Anon. I’ll do anything for family.”

                                            “Now you’re the one getting ahead of things.”

                                            >He just laughs at that.

                                            “Well, hey, Twilight tells me you’re something of a thrill-seeker like your mom, and your talent’s in protection magic. I can show you one of the things she and I are working on, and you can help us test it, since you can protect yourself from any harm that’d happen. That’s doing something for me, and in return I’ll be doing something for you.”

                                            >He adopts an eager grin. “What’cha got for me, then?”

                                            “How would you like to get a pair of wings of your own, and fly with your sister and wife?”


                                            * * *


                                            >”So Anon’s working her over, and she sounds like she’s having the time of her life, but then it sorta trails off. I say something about Cadance just to see if she’s still with us, but wouldn’t you know, Raven, the poor mare just fell asleep again. With Anon sitting on top of her and everything.”

                                            >You can’t help but smile at that, as bad as you feel. Luna missed out on so much excitement, due to her sleep cycle. Figures she’d miss out even when she was right in the middle of it.

                                            “What happened then?”

                                            >”Well he’d got me all heavy-lidded by then too, so I thought I’d do the same. And he must have gotten over himself a little, because he joined in.”

                                            “Ah! An interesting change of pace.”

                                            >”He’s so sweet, just too easy to play with. It’s been wonderful, though. I’m going to miss it when those two start monopolizing his time.”

                                            “So Your Majesty remains resolute about staying distant?”

                                            >Celestia looks away from you, then shakes her head. “I’m not so sure anymore. I should. Luna deserves some happiness without me screwing it up for her. But I surprised myself with how much his obliviousness hurt.”

                                            “Your Majesty may have raised the issue too subtly.”

                                            >”I meant to, and the way I approached it was part of that. I could bring it up without making it a challenge, and gauge his response. Even still, part of me hoped he’d catch on. I never know what he’ll pick up on; sometimes he’s dense as stone, other times he seems to intuitively grasp things.”

                                            “Quirks from his home, surely.”

                                            >”Perhaps. Unfortunately, that only makes him more interesting.”

                                            >You suddenly feel a deep contentment, as if what Celestia just said was a transcendent realization about the nature of the world.

                                            >”That would be Cadance,” Celestia says, looking to the door.

                                            “Her Highness usually tries harder than washing us away. She likes to crush us.”

                                            >”Her husband might not be with her.”

                                            “I suppose I can let her in, then.”

                                            >You open the door telekinetically without getting up from behind your desk.

                                            >Cadance is indeed standing outside. She takes two steps in, looks at Celestia, and then takes a half step back. “Oh gosh.”

                                            >Celestia smiles at her, but it’s a weak smile.

                                            “As you may have surmised, we discuss matters of your domain, Your Imperial Highness.”

                                            >Cadance wrinkles her nose “Stop making me feel old.”

                                            “Never.”

                                            >This gets some humor back into Celestia’s expression. “Hello, my dear niece. As Raven says, we were speaking on your area of expertise, so forgive my emotional turmoil.”

                                            >Cadance walks in far enough for you to close the door and raise your soundproof barrier again, then perches on a chair opposite her adoptive aunt. “Well, I was going to talk to you about it, but you’ve already answered my first question.”

                                            >Celestia glances at you, then back to Cadance. “Humor me, and ask it anyway.”

                                            >”What do you feel for Anon?”

                                            >Celestia dips her head a fraction. “I may be better served hearing your answer than you hearing mine.”

                                            >”Ignoring the obvious? Fear. What are you afraid of missing out on?”

                                            >After a slight flick of her tail across her seat, Celestia replies, “You well know what a sense of awe and novelty can turn into. I fear losing what I’ve spent all this time looking for, now that it’s finally arrived. Now let me ask you; what did you want to talk to us about?”

                                            >Cadance glances at you, prompting a flat look from Celestia.

                                            >”You know how much I trust Raven. You were as much under her guidance as mine.”

                                            “I still have not recovered from the ordeal.”

                                            >But you’re smiling at her, and you feel a ping of bright warmth wash over you in return.

                                            >”Fine. Anon thinks you’re teasing him.”

                                            >”I am.”

                                            >Cadance gives Celestia a dirty look. “You’re just adding to his confusion.”

                                            >”He seemed to be taking it quite well.”

                                            >”He’s putting on a show of being laid back. I don’t know why, but he feels a need to downplay all his emotions.”

                                            >”That’s what stallions are like, where he’s from, he’s told me.”

                                            >”In the end he’s just a lost colt, Aunt!” Cadance leans forward as she says this, and a faint sizzle of irritation lashes out from her towards you. “And you know your aloof act never worked on me. I knew how you felt about him the moment I walked into the room. So lets talk about this like mares.”

                                            >Celestia’s pulled her posture back and up in her seat, stunned by the rebuke.

                                            >Or stunned due to a more focused assault on Cadance’s part, but that’d achieve the same end anyway.

                                            >Maybe just stunned because she dropped the whimsy for once.

                                            >You would be stunned too, if you hadn’t half a mind to chew out Celestia yourself – more politely phrased, of course – if she’d gone on long enough before Cadance arrived.

                                            >Since that’s not on you, now, you can play the diplomat.

                                            “Perhaps we should reflect on this matter a moment, then begin anew when cooler heads prevail.”

                                            >You feel numbed, and Celestia stiffens, as Cadance sucks the emotion out of the room.

                                            “Cool, Your Highness, not cold.”

                                            >She returns feeling to the room, but slowly.

                                            “Now, Her Majesty  told me of her conflict on this subject just before you arrived. We can begin there.”

                                            >You look at Celestia expectantly.

                                            >She shakes her head and sighs. “I shouldn’t take this from my sister, niece. I’ve put her through enough already, without ruining her love life now that she’s back.”

                                            >Cadance glances at you – no, out the window behind you – then returns her attention to Celestia. ”If you love her, trust her to work things out on her own.”

                                            >”I should put her first.”

                                            >”Not like this. Your feelings matter too. If you deny yourself this on her account, you’re going to grow to resent her for it. Are you willing to sacrifice your relationship with your sister for her relationship with this stallion? When he’ll eventually be gone, and you two are stuck with each other forever?”

                                            >Celestia winced at that, but you didn’t feel any emotional outburst from Cadance. ”I don’t even know if he reciprocates.”

                                            >Cadance’s expression softens. You get a distinct feeling of being enveloped in a warm blanket, soothing away worries and concerns in favor of a quiet peace. “He respects you, and is concerned about your well-being and how you feel. He cares a great deal about you. Is that romantic love? Not quite. But right now he’s too confused about what you’re doing, and too worried about what that’ll do to Twilight and your sister. We didn’t talk about you at great length, but when you came up, those are the impressions I got.”

                                            >She glances out your office’s window again as Celestia dips her head, wearing a sad smile.

                                            >”I’ve already lost my chance, haven’t I?”

                                            >The blanket’s peace turns into the comfort of a mother’s caressing touch as Cadance stands, walks over to her aunt, then sits on the floor in front of her, looking up at her.

                                            >She stays like this for almost a minute, examining Celestia’s features.

                                            >The princess regnant remains composed during this, but adjusts her wings a couple times.

                                            >”For someone with such power,” Cadance mumbles, “and prone to such mischief...”

                                            >”Have you reached a verdict?”

                                            >”If you’re worried about missing out, Auntie, then why not take a page from your own book? Once the other two figure everything out, just… jump in. Maybe he’ll recognize the potential and let you closer. Maybe that’ll turn into what you’re looking for.

                                            >”That’s a lot of ‘maybes’ for a consolation prize.”

                                            “Your Majesty, please, do not think of it like that.”

                                            >The two of them look at you, and when you meet Cadance’s eyes for a brief moment, you’re buoyed by a burst of conviction.

                                            “He still must learn what it means to be a stallion, here. He misses some pieces of that puzzle, cannot see the full picture. He will not learn if not taught, and Her Majesty’s exile has rendered her out of practice, on a subject where Her Highness may fare even worse. Your Majesty must act soon, before he believes his learning concluded. Become a teacher once again.”

                                            >You glace at Cadance again, this time tilting your head towards her a sliver.

                                            >You know she’ll pass this on.

                                            >You try to put all the awe and respect you feel for your sovereign after years of serving her, and years of happiness she’d given you as you shared your closest thoughts and leaned on each other, to the front of your mind.

                                            ”Please act for your own benefit on a matter of import, Your Majesty, just this once. If not for yourself, then for me, as your dear friend and faithful servant. Your happiness means more to me than my own, and I cannot bear to see you suffer as you surely will if you let this pass you by. If he rejects you, then you sit no worse than the present. If he accepts you, you may realize all you desire. Your choice seems clear to me.”

                                            >Celestia’s eyes flick to Cadance, but she stands from her chair and walks over to your desk. “You know, he lectured me before about believing my path was fixed. Raven, I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve somepony like you at my side, but I must be doing something right.”

                                            >She leans down to brush your cheek with hers. With that contact, you feel an intense contentment bloom in your mind. It’s similar to how Cadance announced her presence, but where that was raw, this feeling is richly textured, containing layers of trust and appreciation and compassion, all part of a supreme and sublime peace with life itself.

                                            >Cadance is reversing what you asked her, directing towards you how Celestia feels about you.

                                            “I live to serve Your Majesty. In my eyes, you do more right than words can describe.”

                                            >Cadance walks past your desk, to stand by the window.

                                            >This time, Celestia follows her attention. “Is something bothering you, my niece?”

                                            >She flicks her tail ”My husband distracts me.”

                                            >”You can feel him from all the way over there?”

                                            >”I could feel him across all of Canterlot, if I had to. It’s like how a familiar voice carries over a crowd.”

                                            >The two of you join her by the window.

                                            >”It turns out,” Cadance continues, “it’s just stallions being stallions.”

                                            >Down near the parade grounds, a ways off but not too distant the three of you couldn’t see clearly, Anon and Shining Armor stand side-by-side. The latter is wearing a ridiculous contraption that’s about the same size, shape, and arrangement to be pegasus wings, but a bit too bulky, and joined by a strange elongated hump running down his spine.

                                            >Twilight’s a ways off, watching with Flurry Heart.

                                            >Shining’s wings are limp at his sides. You can see occasional movement from them, sometimes considerable distances, but he can’t seem to hold them in place.

                                            >Anon’s picking one of the wings up from time to time and inspecting it, flexing it in his hands. From the way he’s handling it and gesturing every time Shining moves the unsupported one, he’s explaining something.

                                            >Eventually, the human darts back inside his embassy-workshop, leaving Shining to his efforts with the wings.

                                            >Flurry tries to scamper towards her father, but Twilight picks her up magically and pulls her back.

                                            >That’s odd.

                                            “How does Shining feel, to distract Your Highness so?”

                                            >”He’s confused, but excited for something. Are those supposed to be wings?”

                                            >”That must be Anon’s current project. He wants to help injured pegasi fly again.”

                                            >”It doesn’t look like it’s working.”

                                            >Anon returns, then, carrying some sort of brace that he places on Shining’s back. After some fiddling, Shining’s ersatz wings are fully spread. Its wingspan is a little larger than that of a pegasi’s, though the three feathers on each wing stick straight out to the sides, rather than in a rearward arc.

                                            >The two stallions talk for a bit more, Anon gesturing while Shining nods along.

                                            >Suddenly, what you thought were supposed to be feathers spread far wider than reasonable.

                                            >That’s more like a fan.

                                            >Anon’s gesturing is much more exited. Shining’s looking back over his shoulder, tilting his body slightly in different directions.

                                            >Then the fans start slowly spinning.

                                            >Anon jogs clear, while Twilight drags Flurry a bit further back as well.

                                            >Soon the twin fans are spinning too fast to see.

                                            >And then Shining, ever so slightly, begins to rise.

                                            >He looks around, astonished.

                                            >The action tilts his body, and he drifts sideways, catching himself on two hooves and doing a few awkward side-steps before he’s stable again.

                                            >Beside you, Cadance snorts.

                                            >And down on the grounds, Shining suddenly straightens.

                                            >When you look to the pink alicorn, she’s wearing a big grin.

                                            “What did Your Highness do?”

                                            >”Oh, just gave him a bit of encouragement.”

                                            >Anon’s standing back, waving his arms. You’re not sure what the patterns mean. You don’t think Shining knows either, because he isn’t paying a lot of attention to the man.

                                            >He rises more steadily this time. Not straight up; he wobbles minute amounts in different directions, which sends him gently drifting to and fro, but he’s definitely ascending more than moving in any given direction. Eventually he gets the wobbling under control, compensating for it by drifting in roughly the other direction, trying to rise straight up.

                                            >It’s not long, in fact, until he’s on your level.

                                            >Cadance takes a step forward, to put her head almost against the window. Her horn flashes with a bright cyan burst, causing you and Celestia to flinch away.

                                            >”Please warn us next time, niece.”

                                            >She looks to Celestia, then you, with an apologetic glance, before returning her attention to her husband.

                                            >The unicorn hasn’t moved, but has his head turned towards you.

                                            >The next wobble causes a bright pink spark to arc off from near his head, and he recoils from it.

                                            >”Oh!” Cadance exclaims. “Shock, then relief. He’s got himself and the wings shielded.”

                                            >His flinch tilts his whole body considerably, causing him to dart off away from the palace, but he gets it under control easily enough.

                                            >Anon’s sprinting to try to stay under him.

                                            >You’re not sure what he hopes to achieve with this; Shining’s easily three times as heavy as his sister, lightened as she is by pegasi magic as part of her transformation.

                                            >You really hope Anon doesn’t think he could catch her brother.

                                            >Eventually, Shining figures out how to turn around, not without a few further minor mishaps.

                                            >Slowly, he starts drifting towards the palace, and the window you three stand at.

                                            >The sound his artificial wings make is very strange; it’s not a constant drone like you’d expect from a fan, but instead a very rapid and soft snapping or thumping sound.

                                            >Cadance is grinning like an idiot, and you feel a small smile creep to your own lips as her pride and enthusiasm is quite literally infectious.

                                            >Shining tilts backwards, like rearing in mid-air, when he finally arrives at the window. This is apparently enough to arrest his forward motion.

                                            >Cadance takes a step back from the window and half-spreads her wings. Then she tilts them down, followed by kneeling with the front half of her body, in a very regal bow to her husband.

                                            >He tries to return the gesture, but when he tilts his wings downward, it angles the big propellers on the end of them as well.

                                            >This kicks him down and forward at considerable speed.

                                            >Celestia gasps, but Cadance just smiles as she watches a pink bubble appear around him, bouncing him off the wall below the window with a soft thump you can hear from inside.

                                            >Beside you, his wife giggles.

                                            >”You think you can send him back down?”

                                            >”Come on, Auntie, I know you’re old, but can’t you appreciate a glimpse of the future?”

                                            >Celestia laughs. “It’s not my husband looking to rival Discord as the avatar of whimsy.”

                                            >Cadance looks at her aunt as her husband drifts away from the window, descending in fits and starts back down to the field. “Not unless you get what you want, out of this.”

                                            >The three of you look down to where Shining’s heading, at the silly human doing his best to sprint towards the flying unicorn with his arms waving wildly.

                                            >Celestia’s smile rivals Cadance’s own.


                                            * * *


                                            >Long after the two princesses left to get a debriefing on today’s miraculous flight test, you’re still coasting off the happiness Cadance had left you on.

                                            >A knock at your door is followed by an earth pony with a sandy coat.

                                            >She looks nervous.

                                            >Several rolled up pages line her saddlebags.

                                            “Ah, welcome, Ms. Craft. Thank you again for your cooperation to date.”

                                            >”Uh, yeah, hi. You told me to come to you if any problems come up?”

                                            >You put down your quill and the page you were inspecting. “Yes. Come in.”

                                            >The mare closes the door behind her and walks to your desk. “I’m not sure if it really is a problem, but I thought you might want to see it. I’ve made copies of the last several orders Anon placed, and, well...”

                                            >You levitate the pages out of her saddlebags yourself, looking each over in turn.

                                            “Ms. Craft, I work as a secretary, not a draftsmare. I admire the work you have put into these reproductions, but they tell me little.”

                                            >”Well, uh, here, then. I drew up what they’d look like all put together. Anon tried to hide it by spacing the orders out over a couple weeks, but I finally have the whole picture.”

                                            >She fishes a neatly folded up paper out of the bottom of her bag, then tosses it on your desk.

                                            >You unfold it carefully.

                                            >Your eyes go wide when you see what it depicts.

                                            >It’s just a framework, a multilayered lattice of thin, delicate curving metal struts. Some expected features are missing, and others either exaggerated or minimized.

                                            >There’s no mistaking, however, that this structure is in the shape of a mare’s head.

                                            >”It’s all to the proper scale, too, Ms. Inkwell. Anon really did his homework on this one. I thought it might be some sort of helmet, before we got the following orders for internal pieces. But even then, the dimensions are too accurate. It’s not fitted to go over a mare’s head. It’s fitted to be one.”

                                            >Suspicions: Confirmed.

                                            >The crazedcolt is actually going to do it. You don’t know how, but he’s going to build Celestia a companion.

                                            >You fold the paper just as gently as you unfolded it, but you don’t return it.

                                            “Ms. Craft, may I keep this excellent work of yours?”

                                            >The mare nods quickly.

                                            “Thank you. And please, tell nopony about this. I believe this depicts a most special gift for Her Majesty. Make sure nopony can spoil the surprise, or get the wrong ideas.”

                                            >”Yes’m. That’s all I had to say. Sorry to bother you.”

                                            “You came after closing, correct? You may go home, Ms. Craft. Thank you again, and have a wonderful evening.”

                                            >The earth pony smiles, then backs out of your office.

                                            >You place the paper in one of your desk’s drawers that lock, alongside several other personal documents relating to Celestia.

                                            >Even if Celestia can’t get her way with Anon, it looks like she’ll still have something to hold on to.

                                            >That makes all this effort and heartache worth it.


                                            * * *


                                            >Once again, you stalk the palace at night in your socks.

                                            >Not the whole palace, really.

                                            >Just the hallway and last few rooms to where Luna usually does her work.

                                            >You still have some work to do; the test with Shining could have gone better, despite being nominally successful. He did fly, after all.

                                            >But Twilight’s already asleep – she’s staying in Canterlot as long as her brother and sister-in-law are here – so you can’t get much work done, and you were feeling restless.

                                            >You could do with some company.

                                            >You figure Luna could too.

                                            >So here you are, shoes in hand, sneaking as silently into the room she usually works from as possible.

                                            >As usual, she’s alone, sitting in the middle of the room at a table.

                                            >Her eyes are glowing white; she must be dreamwalking.

                                            >She’s almost perfectly motionless as you creep up on her, breathing slow and steady as her shining eyes are fixed on nothing in particular.

                                            >After taking a seat next to her at the table, you place your shoes on the tabletop and lean on one elbow, watching her.

                                            >One of her ears is tracking you, but she otherwise doesn’t respond.

                                            >For several minutes you watch her, a perfect image of serenity.

                                            >Just taking in every detail of her body calms you as well, somehow.

                                            >Twilight and Celestia each have certain tells; the former’s wings and the latter’s eyes, in particular. Luna can be stoic when she wants; in fact, she’s always a perfect image of uptight composure whenever it’s a matter of formal business, but she was quick to drop pretenses in dreams, once she’d shared enough with you.

                                            >Something about her body language is truthful to the point of innocence, when her guard is down.

                                            >As she comes out of her dreamwalk she shows you a moment of that perfect honesty.

                                            >She turns to look at you, and a smile graces her face, her now-normal eyes glimmering with happiness and comfort when they find you.

                                            >You’re pretty sure you know what love looks like.

                                            “Hey, you.”

                                            >”Anon, thy presence surpriseth us.”

                                            >You reach out to scritch at one of her ears.

                                            >Something about how often you’ve comforted each other, how physical she is with you already, and the honesty of her body’s answers to you, makes it hard to resist touching her.

                                            >It’s not something you even think about much, certainly not when the two of you are apart.

                                            >But when she’s right in front of you like this, you just want to see her happy, and see her react.

                                            “Had to get out, thought you might be lonely while you work.”

                                            >She presses her cheek against your arm, eyes closed and smile wider, as you abuse her ear.

                                            “So I thought I’d stop by.”

                                            >“We appreciate thy concern.”

                                            >Recently, the mismatch between what you still interpret as formal speech clashes with how familiar and genuine she sounds, talking to you.

                                            >Especially when you can make her body move more or less on command.

                                            “Why do you always work from this room?”

                                            >”Anypony may findeth us easily, if we are needed.”

                                            “How often is that?”

                                            >Her face freezes, then she looks away when you remove your hand. “Not often.”

                                            “Then why stay? One of these days I’m going to convince all you royals that being comfortable is important. How about we go somewhere you can relax?”

                                            >”There are not many places we can.”

                                            “Shit, there’s your room.”

                                            >Luna finally looks back to you, but it’s a guarded look. “Bold of thee to invitest thyself to our quarters.”

                                            “I’ve already seen ‘em, remember? Besides, we’ve already been in my bed together, why not yours?”

                                            >Her expression flattens further.

                                            “I’ll give you another massage.”

                                            >Oh, there goes the guardedness; it’s a real struggle for her now.

                                            >You tousle her mane and stand.

                                            >This brings her attention down to your feet.

                                            >“Fine, we shall go, but only if thou wearest proper footwear.”

                                            “I was wondering how long it’d take you to notice.”

                                            >You couldn’t help but laugh at her shocked reaction.

                                            >One pair of shoes later and the two of you are walking the halls together, back to her quarters.

                                            “How long are you at this?”

                                            >”The rest of the night. Our talents are not often needed, but we wish to be ready whenever they are.”

                                            “And spend time with your sister and I.”

                                            >She smiles up at you. “We do hope thou mindest not our frequent intrusions.”

                                            “I look forward to them. I’ve come around to thinking myself pretty lucky I can spend time with those I’m close to at all hours, day or night.”

                                            >”We’re glad! The time we spend with thee and our sister maketh the brightest moments of our nights.”

                                            “Gotta say, seeing you and your sister as close as you are is-”

                                            >Luna’s no longer by your side.

                                            >When you turn to where she’d stopped dead, she’s staring straight ahead, eyes glowing white.

                                            “Shit, seriously? Right in the middle of walking?”

                                            >She slowly, haltingly, lifts and resettles her wings.

                                            >Just how much can she respond to the outside world, anyway?

                                            >Standing in the middle of a hallway isn’t what you had in mind when you thought of relaxation.

                                            >Sighing, you walk over to Luna’s side, and crouch down.

                                            >She’s got an ear tracking you again, but like before, doesn’t otherwise respond.

                                            >After some maneuvering, you get under her body and lift her up in something approximating a fireman’s carry.

                                            >Her wings flail out as you stand again, but doesn’t impact your balance too badly.

                                            >Still she doesn’t snap out of her trance, merely grunting at your exertion.

                                            >You’re lucky alicorns are light; she hardly weighs any more than a smallish human. You can manage her the rest of the way.

                                            >Fortunately, her quarters weren’t far.

                                            >When you get there, the two of her guards at her door look at each other, then back to you, confusion plain.

                                            “Just open the damn door already.”

                                            >”Is something wrong?”

                                            “Yeah, I’m carrying her on my back, that’s what. Trust me, I wish I didn’t have to.”

                                            >While one guard gets the door, the other squints at you. “I remember the last time you came around. You stop in with the strangest circumstances.”

                                            “If she and I walked in normally, I know what the scuttlebutt would be, and I’d be sorely disappointed if y’all, uh, impugned my honor or whatever.”

                                            >Neither guard responds to this as you shoulder your way inside, making sure Luna’s clear of the doorframe.

                                            >It’s dark, here, but the moonlight tonight is bright enough through the windows that you’re not blind. You know she’ll have even less trouble seeing than you when she’s back to the real world.

                                            >You get Luna to her bed, and rather unceremoniously lower yourself backwards, thanking the stars her bed is ludicrously soft and plushy as you disentangle her from your back and shoulders.

                                            >The alicorn slowly starts to right herself, but her body moves in a strangely halting manner, like she’s controlled by an overly conservative puppeteer.

                                            >She looks so pathetic you decide to help her, getting on the bed yourself. First you put her head on some pillows, then help her arrange her limbs, putting her in as close to a conventional sitting position you can without touching anything intimate.

                                            >Fortunately, all those bits are clustered together, for ponies.

                                            >You prop up a few pillows against the headboard and recline on them, waiting for her to come out of her dream.

                                            >She definitely doesn’t look as composed as she was when you first came to her tonight. She’s close enough to your left side that you can feel her breathing, and it’s as slow and steady as before. She does still look serene, in a way

                                            >A somewhat comical way, but still.

                                            >When her eyes finally fade back to normal, she adjusts her position on her own, looks around her bed, then at you with some confusion. ”Our, er, thanks, Anon.”

                                            “I wasn’t going to let you just stand there.”

                                            >She buries her face under the pillow you’d provided for her. “Thou wast serious about our bed.”

                                            >You get a hand under her chin and gently lift her head out, leaning down close to her to be on eye-level.

                                            “Honestly, I just wanted to have you to myself. But what’s so different about when you crawled into bed with me stargazing?”

                                            >“Those were dreams!”

                                            “That’s all? What’s the difference, to us?”

                                            >You let go of her chin, just in case she’s uncomfortable being this close to you, but she doesn’t move her head. She’s still looking into your eyes as if she can find an answer to your own question in them.

                                            >Breath matched?

                                            >No, she’s holding hers.

                                            >You’re not sure if that’s out of some sort of chastity, or if she’s expecting something else.

                                            >You lean in, avoiding her horn, and give her a peck on the top of her snout.

                                            “You’re a goof. Those dreams felt plenty real to me, and I never valued them any less than if we were together physically.”

                                            >She blinks, then shakes her head as if to clear it. “We just expected not thee to doest it. We appreciate thy touch, but thou hast given us the chance to only recently.”

                                            “Yeah, I could tell you enjoyed it.”

                                            >She gives you a quizzical look.

                                            “I’m just saying when you like something, you show it.”

                                            >She smiles and drops her head back to the pillow. “Thou hast many likable traits. We are glad thou decidest to share them with us, now. Last we knew, thou still… testest matters.”

                                            “Cadance had a good talk with me about how I can manage all this.”

                                            >This gets Luna’s rapt attention.

                                            “Helped me see I may not have been entirely honest with myself, and let some things hold me back. She told me to trust that things will work out. So you know what? I can tell you like my attention. You always make my dreams feel peaceful, and I’d like to be able to repay that.”

                                            >As she’s looking you over, after that, you snake your left arm under her neck, across the front of her body, and pull her close.

                                            “So sure, nothing wrong with it, if you like it.”

                                            >You reach your rind hand over and place it on the back of her neck, then start searching out for any tight muscles.

                                            “Besides, I said I’d give you a massage.”

                                            >Under this hand, she drops her head to her pillow again, smiling. “We hope we can still work, under thy attentions.”

                                            “You seem like you go pretty out of it, when you do.”

                                            >”We know what goeth on around us, but we find responding difficult.”

                                            “Shouldn’t be a problem just letting me work, then.”

                                            >She nods into the pillow, but then you can feel her stiffen. “Ah, our sister could use our presence.”

                                            “Better not keep her waiting.”

                                            >Her eyes adopted that white shine again, and once more she went very still.

                                            >You keep working up and down her neck, watching the little twitches you cause even when she’s unable to pay attention to you.

                                            >”Anon...”

                                            >You lean down close to her, to better hear her mutters.

                                            >”Shame thou art… awake.”

                                            “Why’s that?”

                                            >After a pause, “She wisheth… to speak… with thee.”

                                            >You close your eyes and lean your head back.

                                            >Not like you’re going to fall asleep in any reasonable time, let alone start dreaming for Luna to pull you in.

                                            >You feel her tail sweep over your calf. Once, twice. Thrice.

                                            >Then she extends her closer wing over you, then, in that same jerky manner as before.

                                            >What are those two talking about?

                                            >Her eyes still glow, seemingly senseless. Her breathing is still calm and regular.

                                            >But that body language means something, doesn’t it?

                                            >You think that she’d be even more at peace, with both you here in the real and her sister there in the dream. If she liked the both of you so much on your own, then both together would be better, right?

                                            >Why does she seem so agitated?

                                            >You take your hand off her mane and start gently stroking her extended wing, instead.

                                            >You spend maybe ten minutes like this with your eyes closed, petting her wing, feeling her tail wash over your leg occasionally. Just trying to tune in to her body.

                                            >Eventually you can feel her head stir.

                                            >You open your eyes and look at her just as she’s bringing her own up to meet your gaze.

                                            >“Anon, let us talk about our sister.”

                                            “She wanted to speak to me that bad, huh?”

                                            >”When art thou next able?”

                                            “Shit, I don’t know. Twilight and I need to go over the flight test results tomorrow, the wings aren’t working like they should. That could take all day. She can stop by if she wants, but I bet she’s going to be swamped with dignitaries, what with Cadance in town.”

                                            >”Indeed.” After a moment of silence, “She wisheth to apologize.”

                                            “For what?”

                                            >“Thou feelest she teaseth thee?”

                                            “Well, she does.”

                                            >”She apologizeth.”

                                            “Huh.”

                                            >Luna furrows her brows, and drops her head back onto her pillow.

                                            “What’s wrong now? You seemed a little miffed, in there.”

                                            >”Our sister can be frustratingly vague.”

                                            “Yeah, that sounds about her.”

                                            >”We discussed the circumstances of our… prior separation. How she feeleth she must approach certain subjects, after our return.”

                                            “Now you’re being vague.”

                                            >Luna closes her eyes. “We cannot be sure how much of what she spoke was real, and how much was hypothetical. It is the first time we find ourselves in… this situation, after all.”

                                            “That’s unhelpful enough I could believe it, considering how agitated it looked like it made you.”

                                            >”Anon, hast thou any problem giving her affection, should thou feelest it?”

                                            >You frown.

                                            “Would you?”

                                            >”She is our sister.”

                                            “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Why would I alienate you-”

                                            >”Thou art a fool. It meaneth we care for her more than anything.”

                                            “I figured, but what’s that have to do with anything? If I had to make a choice-”

                                            >“It meaneth thou needst not choose.”

                                            >You stare at her.

                                            >She stares back, then shakes her head.

                                            >”That day we found thee with thy hands on her, what did thou thinkest we felt?”

                                            “I was worried you’d get upset.”

                                            >”Were we upset?”

                                            “You didn’t look happy.”

                                            >”We had just woken up. We are never happy in those circumstances.”

                                            “Heh, alright.”

                                            >”We were shocked, yes, but only for lack of understanding. We thought thou hast not any design on her.”

                                            “I still don’t. Well, I can’t say that. I can’t say why I can’t say that. She’s really good at fucking with my head, I don’t even know anymore.”

                                            >Luna gets a glint in her eyes, at that. “Our sister hath her ways, we are well aware.”

                                            “I was trying not to think about them.”

                                            >“All we wish to say is that thou deniest not thyself her on our account. If thou desireth her, and she feeleth similarly, we raise no objection.”

                                            “Really?”

                                            >”We would like nothing more than to share our happiness with our dearest sister.”

                                            >Despite sounding like Shakespeare writing a bad porno, it gets you thinking.

                                            >Specifically:

                                            >What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

                                            >You just wanted to cuddle this pony.