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// Dream (Part III)// Story: Winter's Child// by Softy8088//------------------------------//

Twilight woke up with a shaft of sunlight rudely poking her in the face, stinging her eyes even through tightly-shut lids. She blocked it out with a lethargic foreleg, and gradually blinked herself to full consciousness. Her entire body felt... good. Comfortable, rested, in need of a proper morning stretch but otherwise strong and ready to take on the day.

...In five more minutes.

The window through which the unwelcome sunbeam had entered faced south, so its presence allowed a fairly accurate estimate of the hour. It was very late morning; probably close to noon. The unicorn quieted the alarm in her head that told her she should have been awake long ago, organising, studying, researching, doing something. Her entire schedule would need to be reworked anyway, and taking time to be with Cadance and Shining Armor was well worth the academic disruption. Princess Celestia doubtless expected it at this point.

‘Relax,’ said the voice of reason.

She yawned, the motion of her jaw bringing to attention some kind of cool moistness against her cheek in contrast to the otherwise pleasant warmth everywhere else. That wouldn’t ordinarily be a cause for concern; Twilight tended to drool whenever she slept on her side. For this exact reason, she kept an ample supply of fresh pillowcases at home, and she knew that Shining Armor did much the same. It was apparently a family trait.

The problem she faced now was that, as the unicorn noted, she had not drooled onto a pillow. At some point during her sleep, she had taken to spooning against Cadance, the smaller pony ironically acquiring the role of the “big spoon”, and had consequently laid her head into the soft tricolours of Cadance’s well-styled and rose-fragranced mane.

Which she had then unconsciously soaked with her spit.

‘Maybe she won’t notice...’ Twilight thought after rejecting the idea of somehow cleaning the liquid before Cadance awoke.  The most viable option – a dehydration spell – would still leave the alicorn’s mane matted and risked doing actual damage to her coiffure. She could almost hear Rarity’s horrored gasp at the thought. A groan escaped her. ‘No, I’ll just... offer to wash her hair or something. I can do that. It’ll be fine.’

Twilight Sparkle cleaned up her messes.

Twilight Sparkle was a responsible pony.

She assessed her surroundings more thoroughly. The bedroom was as she remembered it; spartan in its furnishings; four off-white walls, wooden-beamed ceiling, solid oak bed, simple dresser with mirror in one corner, and wardrobe in another. The room was Shining Armor in a nutshell; fit-for-purpose – though there were a hoofful of concessions to Cadance’s presence, mostly in the form of sheer, lacy, frilly fabrics hanging over the window and adorning the bed that the stallion could never have picked on his own.

Shining Armor himself, however, was nowhere to be found, much to his sister’s consternation. She reached out for the spot where he had lain that night, and found it cool to the touch. The house was silent, disregarding the sounds of ponies milling about on the streets outside that filtered through into the space.

‘Where did he go?’ she asked herself quietly. That the military-disciplined pony had risen earlier than she was not unexpected, but she had hoped to wake up to him somewhere nearby – if not outright snuggling her.

She took comfort in the fact that she was far from alone. She turned back to Cadance, placing a hoof on her side, just above the wing, and gave a delicate shove. “Wake up, sleepy head,” she cooed.

“Hmmm? That’s my line...” the alicorn replied with a yawn and a stretch before turning over, smiling. “Good morning. Feeling better, I see.”

“Much,” Twilight answered, now in possession of her own beaming smile. “Thanks again for everything. Yesterday, I was so... afraid. You... you have no idea how much you helped.”

“It was my pleasure. You know I always like to see you happy.”

They brought their muzzles together for a kiss. Cadance made an odd, unpleasant humming sound, and pulled away sooner than her partner would have liked. She made a sour face.

“Twilight, no offense... but you have really bad morning breath.”

The unicorn covered her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbled, ears drooping. “I forgot to brush or floss before going to bed, and that allows odour-causing bacteria to build up during the night. I usually remember, but yesterday was pretty... busy.” She ran her tongue along her teeth. They felt unpleasantly fuzzy.

Deciding to shift away from the topic of oral hygiene, she looked behind her again. “Say, do you know where Shining Armor went? He wasn’t here when I woke up.”

The missing stallion’s spouse lifted her head, confirming that the third pony was indeed lacking. One side of her mouth pulled back in thoughtful scrutiny. “Hmm. Maybe it finally hit him that he’s going to be a father. He couldn’t handle the responsibility, got scared, and ran away, abandoning us.”

Twilight laughed openly at the preposterousness of the idea. The only way that could be true is if Discord had started running amok again, and the undeniably peaceful morning claimed otherwise. “Yeah, right. Seriously, though, you don’t know where he is?”

“No, but I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” The mare was utterly unshaken in her faith of her husband’s eventual return.

“I just hope he hasn’t gone and done something stupid, like talk to Princess Celestia about marrying me...”

“Shine may not be the sharpest sword, but he’s not that clueless. He wouldn’t do something like that without talking it over with us first.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right...” Twilight sighed, losing herself in thought.

Cadance observed her carefully. “Something you want to talk about?”

The younger mare shrugged. “Sort of. I had a weird dream.”

“What was it about?”

She paused, but only briefly. Honesty came easily when speaking to Cadance. “We were getting married. All three of us; you, me, and Shining. All our friends were there. Princess Celestia wasn’t really happy at first but she ended up coming around. My dad was cracking jokes and my mom was in denial about the whole thing... and Princess Luna was leading the ceremony.”

Cadance listened intently, her expression neither pleased nor displeased; just genuinely interested. When Twilight stopped her recountal to take a breath, the alicorn waited patiently for her to continue.

“So, we got married, and everypony was really happy for us, but then... they all turned into changelings. Hundreds of them. So did you and Shining, and Celestia and Luna. Everypony was a changeling except me.”

“That sounds like a nightmare.”

Twilight’s brows furrowed. “That’s the thing; I don’t think it was. I was never scared.”

“Oh?”

“That’s what makes it so weird. The changelings didn’t want to hurt me. They said that they’d accept me and Little Cadance and take care of us as long as I gave them my love. That I’d never have to worry about anything. And... and I believed them.” She offered Cadance a minute to absorb these facts before asking the question. “What do you think it all means?”

The young princess stared up at the ceiling in thought. “Dreams aren’t really my talent. You’d have to ask aunt Luna for an expert opinion. But she did tell me once that nopony can interpret a dream as well as the dreamer. What do you think it means?”

The unicorn scratched idly behind her ear. “Maybe it means... I’m worried that everypony will betray me if they find out the truth? They’ll stop being the ponies I know and become... evil?”

“But you said the changelings told you that they didn’t want to hurt you. Were they lying?”

“How would I know that?”

Cadance smiled again. “Because it was your dream.”

That reasoning was surprisingly sound. Twilight’s own mind had created the entirety of that dream; every character in it was just a manifestation of some part of herself. She did know.

“The changelings weren’t lying,” she realised. “They were serious. They just cared about my giving them love. And... I was okay with that. They weren’t who they seemed to be at first, but in the end it didn’t matter because... because we all focussed on what was really important to us and could live together despite our differences?” Her face scrunched up in confusion. That last part sounded like it could be a friendship lesson, but it wasn’t altogether clear if it was applicable to her current situation.

“Of course,” Cadance added, “the other thing aunt Luna said is that some dreams are just a bunch of random happenings without any real meaning.”

The two mares glanced at each other. They both laughed.

Shining Armor, Cadance, weddings, changelings... all these elements were in close proximity in Twilight’s brain. It was all too likely that her subconscious had just pulled them haphazardly from the shelves of her memories and tossed them at the unicorn’s hapless conscious mind, which had then tried to make sense of the senseless.

“If you ask me, you need to simplify,” the winged mare said. “Forget who or what exactly was in the dream. You dreamed about a situation where something happened that was very different from what you expected to happen, that looked scary at first, but it turned out alright in the end. Does that remind you of anything?”

A blink of cognisance. “Wow. That does make sense. My studies, the pregnancy, being a mother... Hey! I thought you said interpreting dreams wasn’t your talent!”

Cadance smirked mischievously. “I never said I couldn’t try.” 

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Or maybe it’s a lot more obvious than that. My subconscious is warning me that somepony close to me is a changeling.” She looked askance at her bedmate.

“What? Me?” the alicorn asked incredulously.

“There’s only one way to know...”

Cadance sighed as her eyes upturned playfully. “Fine...”

The covers exploded outward as both ponies jumped to their hooves, legs bent and bodies low, ears erect and grinning muzzles inches apart.

“Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake! Clap your hooves and do a little shake!”

Having completed their childhood-dance-turned-identity-check, they collapsed back into two happy heaps of purple and pink pony, legs kicking upward in tune with their giggles.

“Okay, okay,” Twilight conceded, “You’re the real Cadance.”

“You can move really well,” the other mare observed through the trailing end of her laughter, her gaze on the unicorn’s still-quivering middle. “Are you sure you’re okay with jumping around like that?”

“I’m not even seven months in. I’m pretty sure I’m just carrying low, so I look heavier than I really am. One of the nurses guessed that I was at eight months.” Twilight frowned. Personal appearance was never her top priority, but the comment still left her a little insulted. “I can feel the extra weight, but moving around is still pretty easy.” She got back up and hopped on the bed a few times to illustrate, sending pillows tumbling to the floor. “See? I can jump and run like always.”

Cadance’s eyes bounced with her, and the mare chuckled. “Enjoy it while you can, but... be careful,” she warned.

Instantly, Twilight stopped. “Oh, right. I wouldn’t want to have an accident, like when...” At once, something gripped her heart, catching the air in her lungs.

“What is it?”

She forced a few deliberate breaths to calm herself. “The... the doctors said she was okay...”

“Twilight, did something happen?” Concern filled Cadance’s voice.

“I... I didn’t know at the time...” Twilight slowly relived the memory in her mind’s eye. “The Crystal Empire? The games inspector? We did this routine to impress her where I stood on top of Applejack and Pinkie and... I fell off. More than once. It hurt.” Her hoof was massaging the swell, suddenly longing to feel a reassuring kick from its occupant.

She got it.

“I... I was almost four months then...” Tears of guilt were already filling the reservoir in anticipation. “If... if I only knew...”

“It’s okay, Twilight.” Cadance was at her side, nuzzling comfortingly behind her ear. “You had no way of knowing...”

“Yes I did! Why didn’t I even bother to check? A home pregnancy test is cheap and takes – what, five, ten minutes? I couldn’t fit that into my schedule?! I just trusted that the spell would work. I should’ve known better. Any spell can fail.”

The other mare said nothing, merely holding Twilight close.

She sniffled. “And on top of everything it was incest... Homozygosity isn’t healthy. It’s only first-generation, so the chance of serious anomalies is low, and the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong, but still...” She swallowed the lump in her throat that seemed to have become a regular part of her diet of late. “Cadance... what if... what if she has problems?” The words came with difficulty, and had to be coerced from her throat. “What if she... isn’t normal?”

She expected another soothing reassurance; to be told that everything would be alright and that she had nothing to worry about. Instead, Cadance’s hoof nudged her head to face hers, confronting her with demanding eyes.

“What if she isn’t normal, Twilight? What will you do then?”

The directness of the question left the unicorn stunned, though her recovery was quick. She was still fighting back tears as she answered. “Then... then I’ll do the best that I can for her. I’ll give her whatever she needs... And– and I’ll love her just the same.”

Cadance gripped her. A hug from Cadance always made the tears go away. Always.

“And that,” the young princess said, “is how I know you’ll make a wonderful mother.” 

The embrace held for a minute. Or two. However long it was, it was exactly as long as Twilight needed it to be. 

Cadance let go, allowing her smile to call forth its twin from the unicorn. “Now, I think we’ve been in bed long enough. And one of us really needs to go brush her teeth.”

Twilight was considerate enough to cover her mouth as she giggled. The smell attacked her nostrils, verifying the accuracy of Cadance’s admonition. She hopped carefully off the bed and, after stretching out her limbs two at a time, made for the bathroom.

The bathroom was, in a word, white. (A tired joke between her and her brother revolved around pretending that he had turned invisible whenever he entered the space.) Between the double sinks, she spotted a tube of toothpaste and two toothbrushes – one blue, one pink – in a holder. Presented with such a conundrum, she pulled open the nearby medicine cabinet, not really expecting the solution to still be there.

It was there.

They’d kept it, even though she hadn’t been here for months. Her magic levitated the purple toothbrush, and applied a generous helping of minty paste before getting furiously to work on her teeth.

Cadance joined her at the other sink. It was possibly one of the most mundane moments conceivable; mind-numbingly ordinary in its banality; standing there in front of a mirror, two mares brushing their teeth without saying a word to each other – or at all, for that matter.

Why were they both grinning, then?

The alicorn finished with her chore first, leaving Twilight still scrubbing at her tongue – a book had said that was the most effective way to combat bad breath. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” the pink mare informed, then looked back over her shoulder suggestively. “Would you like to join me?”

“Sure!” Twilight said, having just finished with a generous rinsing. “I’m pretty sure I could use one, too.” Then the true implication of what Cadance was offering sunk in. “Uh... Just a shower?” she requested sheepishly, her ears flat. “I’m not really up for... sex.”

If the larger mare was in any way disappointed, she didn’t show it. “Just a shower,” she confirmed with a tiny nod as they both stepped into the spacious stall, closing the sliding glass partition behind them. “Don’t worry. The rumours of my rampant nymphomania have been greatly exaggerated.”

Twilight had no time to appreciate literary wit; Cadance had just obtained a shower cap and was in the process of putting it on.

“You’re not going to wash your hair?” she questioned.

“No, not today.”

“Uh... you probably should.” 

“Why?”

Twilight rubbed the back of her neck, trying to put on a big grin which was utterly failing to persuade anypony. “Oh, no reason.”

The princess didn’t need to say a thing; the young unicorn’s own guilt quickly did her in.

“I... I drooled in it.” Her cheeks began to burn. That had been happening a lot lately. She wished she had a long mane to hide behind. “Sorry.”

Cadance’s eyebrows rose. She reached back, and within a few moments located the sticky, wet, and morning-breath-scented spot.

She sighed, discarding the shower cap. “It’s okay, Twilight.”

“No, it’s... it’s not!” The unicorn stated forcefully. “I keep screwing up and making a mess and you just keep cleaning it up and forgiving me. It’s not fair!”

“Twilight, it’s just my mane. I’ve had plenty worse in it.” 

“It’s not just about your mane, it’s about this whole thing...” Her hoof scuffed on the tile.

“Everypony makes mistakes.”

Twilight wasn’t convinced. She decided to abandon that line of thought anyway; ruminating on her failures certainly wasn’t helping matters. “I– I’ll help you wash it. If you want me to.”

Cadance smiled, wide and honest. “I’d love that. But I get to do you first.”

“Uh...”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she said with a flick to Twilight’s ear as she turned on the flow of water. “I meant that I’ll help you wash first, then you’ll help me.”

“Right.”

They waited for the cascading liquid to reach a comfortable temperature, nudging the knobs to reach that elusive state where neither pony would shy away from the stream. The shower nozzle was mobile, attached to a long, flexible metal hose, made to easily reach any part of a pony’s anatomy. Cadance’s first act was to bring it directly over Twilight’s head, soaking the unicorn’s mane to the roots.

“I just love making you totally wet like this...”

“Okay, that one was on purpose!” Twilight cried.

The alicorn’s eyelids lowered slyly. “You think?”

Twilight tried to grumble but couldn’t stop it from turning into a laugh instead.

A generous dollop of shampoo plopped into her mane, and a pair of hooves began lathering it in with vigor. Her eyes closed in avoidance of the stinging flow of soapy liquid soon to come their way. She leaned her head down and forward to better present her crest and poll, and didn’t resist the little moan that bubbled forth when Cadance rubbed the latter.

There was something special about letting another pony wash her hair. To have another set of hooves massaging her like this was both intimate and physically comforting, but it also struck something inside her; it made her feel cared for and wanted.

“Cadance?”

“Yes?”

“Did you really mean it? What you said last night?” she asked. “Would you really marry me?”

Cadance’s hooves stopped. “In a heartbeat,” she answered in a low voice, and then resumed her task.

This was a puzzle the young pony was determined to solve. “Why?” She was hit with a fresh stream as the shampoo was washed away. Soapy water rolled down her muzzle and off her chin. “You’re a princess. I’m just...”

“...a regular old unicorn?” Cadance guessed, expertly directing the water around Twilight’s ears while avoiding spraying any of it inside.

“I was going to say that I’m just... me.”

The deep sapphire blue mane got a final once-over with the showerhead, the first stage of its cleaning process now complete. Twilight wiped at her brows and carefully parted her lids. She could see Cadance looking at her with those large, infinitely kind violet eyes of hers.

“Exactly,” the princess stated.

“Huh?”

“Do you know what you are, Twilight?”

“What do you mean?”

With the lightest touch from Cadance, the unicorn’s body spun around, allowing her companion to begin working more shampoo into her tail. The showerhead had been placed back into its holder above, left to cascade warm water onto her back. “I knew you were special from the very first day I saw you as a little filly,” Cadance explained. “You were so focussed, so determined, so smart... so stubborn. And after all these years, you’ve grown into a strong, beautiful, astonishing young mare. You’ve accomplished so much, and you’ve exceeded every expectation I had for you. You’re one of the most... No, you are the most amazing pony I’ve ever known.”

Something caught in Twilight’s throat again. “You... you can’t really mean that?!”

A pat on the rump told her to turn back around and allow her tail to be rinsed by the falling water. Meanwhile, Cadance placed her hooves into the unicorn’s wet locks, spreading out some kind of flowery-smelling mane conditioner. Lilac, if Twilight was not mistaken; not something the younger mare would ordinarily choose, but pleasing nonetheless.

“You’re intelligent, and you love to learn. When you apply yourself, there’s no problem you can’t solve. That stubbornness of yours, it makes you dedicated. You don’t give up, you persevere no matter the odds, and you succeed because of it, where any other pony would fail.” Cadance’s touch shifted; no longer simply administering hair product – though it was still doing that – but becoming closer to an affectionate caress of Twilight herself. “If it hadn’t been for you, I might still be in those caves... or I would’ve died there. You’re so brave.”

“What...? I’m not brave...”

“Yes, you are. You’re incredibly brave. How many other ponies would stand hoof-to-hoof with Nightmare Moon? With Discord? An entire changeling army and their queen? Should I go on?”

“Those times, I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you did. Every time, you could have run away; hid like everypony else. You could’ve given up. You didn’t.”

Twilight was having difficulty looking the other mare in the eyes. She was grateful for the excuse to shut her own while Cadance rinsed her mane again, and jumped on the opportunity to turn away so that her tail could be conditioned.

“Most ponies don’t know this about you, not unless they get to know you. You put up this front; this image of a mare who cares only about her studies and schedules and plans. But you’re willing to drop all of it to help a friend, or anypony in need. Ask yourself this: Have you ever refused to help a pony who needed it?”

Twilight remained silent.

“You care about other ponies. More than you ever let on. Probably more than you realise. All those times you stood up to dangerous villains, all the times you refused to give up, all the times you put your life and your future on the line to help others? You did it all because deep down you’re one of the most kindhearted, selfless ponies I’ve ever met. And not just in fair weather, but in the darkest times that put your character to the ultimate test. You have no idea how rare that is, Twilight.

“You’ve made some mistakes; everypony has. There are no exceptions. Sometimes you need a little help figuring out what the right thing to do is. But when you do... there is no power in the universe that can stop you.”

Twilight didn’t know how to react. She had hardly ever received this kind of heartfelt praise targeted at her very soul, and never in such burdening quantity. She didn’t agree with it, yet didn’t want to seem ungrateful or argumentative or flippant. But Cadance had just finished with her tail and continuing to stand with her back turned couldn’t be anything other than insulting. She eventually rotated, trying to stay neutral and composed.

“And that’s why I would marry you.”

She wanted to tell her how wrong she was, how Twilight Sparkle wasn’t nearly as good a pony as she thought, how her greatest accomplishments were a combination of having loyal friends and sheer luck, how she had access to privileges and resources few others could dream of, how often she succumbed to her own fears and conceits, how her failures had been all too easily forgotten and forgiven, and how she didn’t deserve to be with a pony as wonderful as Cadance.

She couldn’t say all that, though.

“I... I love you,” she managed at length. That, at least, was true. “Maybe not the same way you feel about me, but... I do. I know it. I love you, Cadance...” Her dripping forelock provided the illusion of tears rolling down her cheeks. She could only hope that there weren’t any real ones mixing in. “I’m sorry it’s not enough...”

“It’s enough,” came the whisper. “It’s more than I ever hoped we would be.”

They brought their foreheads together, horn-to-horn, exchanging unhurried breaths in the artificial downpour. 

Cadance pulled away first, giving a quick shake of the head to dismiss both the moment and the water accumulated on her muzzle. “Now, we still need to clean your coat. Do you want the separate conditioner or the two-in-one?” she queried, examining the selection on the shelf.

Both choices were extravagant from Twilight’s perspective; her purple fur was usually treated to a simple body wash or even just plain soap at home. “The two-in-one,” she decided.

A zig-zag of goop landed on her back, and Cadance got to work quickly, lathering up her neck and shoulders, then her barrel, and finally her hindquarters, the alicorn’s forehooves moving in smooth, deliberate circles. For Twilight, having her mane and tail washed had been a touch intimate. This was notably more so – especially since Cadance had foregone using a washcloth or sponge, opting for skillful direct contact. The feel of those hooves massaging every part of her body left Twilight riding an indulgent high that the best spas couldn’t rival. It was also nostalgic; the last time she had been washed like this was as a little filly.

She had heard of children developing crushes on their sitters. The reverse was rarer, and typically far less... healthy. 

“Cadance?”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked, hoping the other mare wasn’t trying to avoid the topic. “About how you felt?”

“I knew it wasn’t completely mutual,” Cadance answered without hesitation, “I didn’t want to scare you off. I was already surprised that you were willing to go as far as you did.”

“Didn’t you say honesty was the most important thing in polyamorous relationships? That we should be open with our feelings even if it might not be easy?”

The alicorn paused. “You’re right,” she said after a moment, her tone contrite. “I should’ve said something earlier.” She met the young mare’s gaze with practiced puppy-dog-eyes. “Forgive me?”

Twilight smiled despite herself. She still felt like any apologies should be headed the other way. “Sure.”

Cadance began cleaning her underside, her motion veering especially gentle at Twilight’s swollen belly.

“And I just had it figured out, too...” the unicorn complained.

“What?”

“What we were. Are. Were.” She frowned. “How to label our relationship.”

“And what’s that?”

An uninvited smirk snuck onto her face. “‘Sisters-in-law-with-benefits’.”

Cadance chuckled. “Cute. If that’s what you want us to be, then I’m perfectly happy with that.”

“But all that stuff you said...?”

“I said I was open to us being more. But the last thing I want is to pressure you into a relationship you’re not comfortable with. My only hope is that wherever we end up... we can stay friends.”

Twilight nodded resolutely. “Always.”

By this point, Cadance had progressed all the way down to the unicorn’s fetlocks. She brought the nozzle in again, giving a thorough rinsing to the smaller pony’s frame, paying special attention to her undercarriage, where the normal shower from above might miss. It tickled, just a bit. “Now lift your tail?”

Twilight complied before she even discerned what the request implied. Her entire body tensed as warm water hit just below her dock, splashing against her anus, then her vulva, Cadance touching her folds to properly get into every crevice...

And almost as soon as it began, it was over. Cadance had been quick, efficient, and considerate – she had even adjusted the water pressure from a jet to a less intense stream to keep Twilight comfortable. There had been nothing sexual about it. She really was just cleaning.

“Did I surprise you?” the mare inquired, noting the other’s nonplussed expression. “I did ask.”

“I– I know. I wasn’t paying attention.” Twilight exhaled, trying for an assuaging smile. “It’s fine. Thank you.” It was patently ridiculous to be embarrassed about having one’s backside cleaned by another, trusted, pony. Due to natural equine anatomy, it was the most effective way. And considering what other things she had allowed Cadance to do to her back there...

“I think you’re all set,” the alicorn judged.

“Okay. My turn. I mean, your turn. I mean... time for us to switch...”

Another chuckle from Cadance. “The blue bottle is the shampoo. It’s good for mane and coat. Don’t bother with conditioner; I have to use a special leave-in treatment,” she instructed with a tired roll of her eyes. “I need to wait until I’m mostly dry to apply it.” From the sound of her voice, she wasn’t in the slightest measure eager to do so.

“You don’t like it?”

“Part of my job is looking like a princess. It’s especially important now that I represent the entire Crystal Empire. I have to look my best at all times. Even with a whole team of beauticians, it gets to be a lot of work.”

Within seconds Twilight had used the showerhead to rinse out the worst of her salivary deposit. “Sorry again about the drool...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cadance replied as nearly a quarter bottle of shampoo squirted onto her mane, back, and tail. “I told you I’ve had worse. I was a foalsitter for years, remember?”

Her young helper began to knead the luxurious mass of pink, purple, and gold. She heard Rarity’s voice again, fawning over such luscious locks. “Worse? Like what?” 

“Bodily fluids. Worse than spit.” The larger pony brought her head lower to provide better access, though the unicorn still had to stretch on her hindlegs, lest the manetips drag on the shower floor. “You really want to hear the details?”

Twilight made a disgusted face. “No, it’s fine.” She continued to gently work on the bounty of hair, hoping she was at least doing a passable job. With a mane this long, tangles and knots could be a problem, and her own go-to solution – simply cutting them out if they couldn’t be quickly banished by a brush – wasn’t an option here. It took a while, and some cheating with magic when hooves just weren’t precise enough, but eventually she was satisfied with her efforts, and moved on to Cadance’s supple frame.

“I like your wings,” she said absentmindedly, spreading the appendages in question. Knowledge of proper pegasus wing care was something she lacked, but virtually everypony knew that feathers should never be soaped or shampooed; simply rinsed with clean water.

“Maybe someday you’ll get a pair of your own,” Cadance suggested, “the way I got my horn.”

Twilight snorted. “Yeah, right. Like that’ll ever happen.”

She made quick progress, forbearing the aid of a sponge; she was obstinate in delivering the same personal touch she had received. Carefully, measuredly, methodically, her hooves traced the alicorn’s aesthetically pleasing curves, leaving a trail of translucent bubbliness against pink fur, on her belly, her flanks, down her thighs, now over her toned rump...

The task made it impossible not to stare.

Cadance was a lean pony; elegant and smooth from head to tail to hooves – a trait common to all the alicorns Twilight had seen. She always carried herself with a natural grace, every movement casually harmonious and regal. The combination was, in a word, alluring. The muscles that could be felt beneath her soft skin were lithe but strong, and her large, violet-tipped wings especially powerful. Hidden within that delicate and elegant exterior, Twilight knew, hid one of the strongest, toughest ponies she had ever met.

“You’re beautiful.”

She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Or at all.

Still, she did not regret having said it.

“So are you,” Cadance answered.

“Even when I’m pregnant?”

“Especially when you’re pregnant. You’re practically glowing.”

“I look huge.”

“You look deliciously abundant.”

“Are all these compliments just to convince me to marry you?”

“Is it working?”

“A little.”

Both mares suppressed inelegant chortles.

Outward appearance was one thing. Twilight could certainly appreciate a pretty pony for being pretty. What truly mattered to her, however, were the mind and the spirit. Cadance scored high on both measures; clever and tenacious, witty and determined. And through it all, kind, loving, and caring, with a sense of humour that Twilight found stimulating in all the right ways.

“I didn’t just mean that you’re beautiful... on the outside,” the unicorn explained, almost finished with lathering up the mare’s tail. “You said that I’m a good, selfless pony under the surface. Well, you’re a good, selfless pony all the way through. You don’t have a rough outside, like I do. You’re just... great. You always see the best in everypony... You bring out the best in everypony. Just being around you makes everyone happy. You’re patient and understanding, and you always think of others before yourself. You make everypony smile and laugh. You remind them of the love they feel for each other, of all the best times they had. You bring them together.

“And it’s not an act, either. It’s who you are deep down. Your cutie mark is a heart... I understand what it means now. You wear your heart on the outside. You let everypony know who you are and you never let them down. And you’re smart and strong... You love children and animals...  You’re just... You’re perfect.”

“Twilight...” Cadance began, then cleared her throat. Had she actually gotten choked up from hearing that? “I... I’m not perfect. Nopony is. I’ve made my share of mistakes. Big ones. I get selfish sometimes. There were times when I hurt the ones I love. Including you.”

“Like when?”

“Like... that first time I saw you with Shining?”

“What?! You’re really going to bring that up? A little voyeurism is nothing compared to what I was doing... or thought I was doing to you. I was the one who wasn’t even thinking about who I could hurt. I was ready to go behind your back to get Shining... how horrible is that? What kind of a pony does that make me?” Twilight attempted to shake away the memories. “Anyway, we talked about all this already. We forgave each other. And you’re still a way better pony than I could ever be. This whole relationship between the three of us works because of you. If you were any other pony, it all would’ve ended in a big fight, I’d be a homewrecker, and you and Shining would’ve gotten divorced.”

“And if you were any other pony, I’d have died in the Canterlot caves, Equestria would be overrun with changelings, and Shining Armor would be a meal for their queen. Let’s not even talk about what would have happened to the Crystal Empire.”

“Yeah, the Empire that I didn’t save because I didn’t even notice a page torn out of a book and then got myself caught in a magic crystal trap. If you hadn’t been able to keep that forcefield up while I was running around like–” Twilight’s eyebrows jumped up. “Wait. Are we arguing?”

Cadance chuckled. “We’re debating.”

“Well... let’s not. I just...” The other pony sighed. “I think you’re an amazing pony, Cadance. And I’m the luckiest pony in the world to know you... and no debate.” She added clout to her words by spraying the soapy mare before she could object.

Washing away the suds took longer than expected, likely because the amount of shampoo necessary had been overestimated. The whole shower experience had been rather long, with Twilight’s hooves tingling and threatening to turn pruney within moments. And yet, she was hit with a pang of regret that it was nearly over. 

Cadance was almost entirely clean, except for one detail...

“Lift your tail?”

Even in a clothing-optional society, certain parts of anatomy warranted special treatment. Social rules dictated that staring at another pony’s genitalia was the height of rudeness.

Twilight stared. Partly because going at the task blind would be stupid. And partly because she truly enjoyed the view. She kept staring even past the point when she had technically finished cleaning.

Cadance didn’t mind. There was no harm in it.

Social rules could be really silly sometimes.

“Alright, we’re done,” she finally announced, turning off the shower.

A refreshingly cool wave of air flowed over them when the glass partition was opened. Some fresh, crisp white towels levitated over. Cadance immediately wrapped her ample mane in one, using some kind of complicated folding and twisting technique to form it into a loose bun. Twilight simply scrubbed her own mane until it was a mostly dry, disordered mess.

Then, to her surprise and gratitude, Cadance began vigorously towelling off the unicorn’s coat, eliciting an oscillating moan from the younger mare. The stinging friction of the towel was almost – but not quite – painful, serving to be invigorating more than anything else. As before, the alicorn’s movements were softer when her attentions lay on Twilight’s pregnant belly.

Twilight returned the favour soon after, drying off Cadance’s coat, using a light touch on her sensitive feathers, and taking some more time to appreciate the alicorn’s slender curves, the fresh softness of her rosish fur, the near-imperceptible rhythmic expansion of her chest with every breath...

“I think I’m crazy...” she said.

“Why?” Cadance’s expression mingled confusion and concern as she looked back at the unicorn.

“I said ‘no’. I could marry you, but there’s something holding me back, and I don’t understand what that is.” A frustrated frown twisted her features. “You’re everything I ever dreamed of in a special somepony. I’m happy when I’m with you. You’re smart, kind, strong, beautiful... and you’re a princess. What more could I want? What more could anypony possibly be? It doesn’t make any sense for me to say ‘no’.”

The alicorn gave her that look – the one that said, ‘You’re missing the point.’ “Love doesn’t always make sense. You can’t force yourself to love another pony.”

“But I do love you...” the younger mare insisted. “Isn’t that enough?”

Cadance looked down, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Not always.” She exhaled softly. “Twilight, ponies get married for different reasons. Some do it for companionship, because they’re afraid of being alone. Some rush into it because they mistake infatuation or lust for a permanent connection. Some do it for social status, because of family pressure, politics, or even money.” Her forehoof reached out to touch Twilight’s enlarged flank. “Some do it to take care of children. I think that last one is a respectable reason. But to me, marriage is about sharing your life, completely, with another pony. Giving them every part of yourself, and getting all of them in exchange.” She faced the unicorn fully, looking her squarely in the eyes. “Is that what you want? Do you want to share your whole life with me?”

Twilight hesitated. “I... I could... I mean, I trust you and it’s not like I’m afraid... I just wasn’t expecting it to happen like this, so soon, but I could definitely get used to–”

A hoof to the lips silenced her.

“If the answer isn’t ‘yes’, then it’s ‘no’,” Cadance calmly said. “And that’s fine. You have to trust your heart on this.”

The young pony nodded. “Can... can that ever change?”

“Of course.” The alicorn’s muzzle rubbed soothingly at the base of her ear. “Love changes and grows as you do. If you ever feel that you’re ready, just tell me. And in the meantime...” She traced along the younger pony’s jaw, tickling her with warm air as she did, and making the briefest touch of pink nose to purple at the finish.

It was an invitation. She was offering Twilight a choice: keep the moment platonic, or not.

They gazed at each other again, eyes dreamily half-lidded, mouths happy and anticipating, moving closer until...

They connected, muzzle-to-muzzle. Unlike the kisses of last night, this one didn’t immediately crest and fade; it built as Cadance pressed forward and Twilight answered in equal measure, neither mare backing down from the challenge. Their lips parted, and Twilight’s (now minty-fresh) tongue won the race by entering the alicorn’s mouth first, meeting its friend for a long-awaited affectionate wrestle. 

Each pony twisted her head to the side, hooking foreleg around neck, locking together tighter, going deeper, tasting more of the other. The tingles of initial contact gave way to surges of pleasure as they continued to push and twist in a hot and wet game that had no real loser. Twilight’s heart beat faster, and a familiar warmth embraced her entire body. It was electric; magical. Lips and mouth were erogenous zones, after all. Cadance was skilled in manipulating them, but Twilight had been a quick study, and by now she knew just what the princess liked, remembering to vary the pressure on the lips, and perform little twirls on the tip of her tongue that the alicorn especially enjoyed.

From first contact until Twilight playfully released Cadance’s lower lip, sixty-six seconds elapsed. The young princess had laughed when the scientist had first admitted that she actually counted the duration of her kisses, but then encouraged the young mare to enjoy herself however she wished, calling it ‘cute’.

They panted, absorbing the smells of wet pony and scented surfactant. Another, shorter, smaller kiss served as an addendum to the main composition. One pair of violet eyes joyously found the other, though Cadance soon looked away, somewhere behind the unicorn.

“Your brother’s watching us,” she whispered with a devilish smile.

Twilight turned around. Sure enough, Shining Armor was standing in the bathroom’s open doorway, looking thoroughly pleased with the sight before him. His cocky smirk was as irritating as ever.

After seeing him stripped of it the previous night, she was glad for its return.

“Hey, don’t let me interrupt.”

Cadance grinned right back at her husband from beneath half-shut lids. “Do we ever?”

“I can wait outside.”

She wordlessly confirmed with Twilight. “No. We’re done here.” The mares brushed past as they made their exit, leaving the stallion to follow.

“What did I miss?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” the alicorn teased. “All that fog in there isn’t just from the shower. Where were you, anyway?”

“I took a walk. I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake you up. You were just so... adorable together.”

“Did you at least bring us something?” his sister queried.

“Yes,” he declared, chin held high and proud. “I bought donuts.”

“Donuts?” Cadance asked.

“Donuts!” Twilight shouted, bounding down the stairs and into the dining room. As promised, a box bearing the logo of Joe’s Donut Shop sat on the table. Some thoughtful pony had already set out three plates, and the smell of freshly-baked goods held in the air.

The young pony tore open the cardboard, finding her quarry in a chocolate-glazed, cream-filled treat. By the time Cadance and Shining Armor joined her, the unicorn’s purple cheeks were stuffed to capacity with sweetness. She hadn’t even realised how hungry she had been, or how much she had missed this. Sugarcube Corner produced excellent stock, but simply couldn’t compete with the pure childhood memories served by Joe.

Cadance eyed the donuts with suspicion. “I don’t think this is very healthy, Shine.”

The stallion’s pupils turned up in annoyance. “Twilight’s pregnant.”

“That’s what I mean. She deserves a healthy breakfast.”

“It’s past noon. This is lunch. And she deserves a treat. We all do. Unless, of course, you don’t want any. More for us.” The stallion pulled a double-chocolate pastry from the box and casually consumed half of it with a single bite.

A huff. “Fine. Twilight, do you want some fruit with that, or at least some orange juice?”

“Joosh pleesh.”

“Could you get me some, too?” Shining Armor asked, crumbs falling from his mouth. He received a glare in return. “What? I brought the donuts, and I said ‘please’.”

“No, you didn’t,” Cadance snapped back as she left the room.

The stallion looked questioningly to his sister. She shook her head.

“Darn. I thought I did.” He finished off his pastry and moved on to the second.

By that point, a happily twitchy-eared Twilight was well into her third.

“If you’re still thinking about marrying her, Twiley, remember, this is what you have to look forward to: Health food, all the time. ‘Breakfast’ to Cadance means a bowl of plain oats every day.”

“Excuse me?” The alicorn re-entered, levitating three glasses of orange juice. Two she placed in front of herself and Twilight, the third she all-but-slammed in front of Shining – though somehow didn’t spill a drop. “First, three days out of the week is not ‘every day’. And it’s not plain oats. I flavour it with... brown sugar, honey, last time I added fresh fruit...”

The unicorn made a show of sticking out his tongue and gagging.

“Well, I’m very sorry for wanting us both to stay healthy. If you don’t like it, you can just make your own breakfast!”

“I think that’s what I just did.” He pointed to the half-empty box.

“Oh, I see. Going out and buying donuts counts as ‘cooking breakfast’ now!”

“It takes more effort than tossing some oats into a bowl!” he denounced, his voice rising. “And that’s if you do it and not the palace staff.”

“Oh, gee, I wonder why I don’t always have time to cook... Wait, I know. It’s because I have an empire to run!” A pink forehoof hit the table as Cadance’s muzzle moved menacingly close to her husband’s. “I don’t see you playing chef. With the way you laze about all day, you might as well be retired!”

The stallion’s teeth grit together. “Is that supposed to be a joke?! Do you even know what I do all day?”

Their horns locked. “No, because you never tell me! I tell you everything about my day!”

“That’s because I’m considerate enough to not bore the living daylights out of you, the way you do to me every night!”

“STOP!” Twilight shouted, terrified tears welling in her eyes. Witnessing the married couple in such vicious opposition frightened her, not least because of the possibility that she was somehow the reason for their strife. “Please, please don’t fight...” she implored, trying desperately to piece together what exactly the source of this sudden storm was and how she could fix it.

She was met with a pair of confused stares.

Shining Armor and Cadance then looked to each other in silent inquiry, slowly taking on smiles of understanding. “She’s never seen us do this before...” the stallion said.

The pink mare covered her mouth in amusement, the pure ringing of her laugh dispelling the tension. “Don’t worry, Twilight. We’re not fighting. Not really.”

“We have these little arguments sometimes,” Shining explained. “It helps us clear out stress. We let each other know what’s bothering us, but it’s never anything serious.”

“We always end by laughing or kissing. You’ve... really never seen us do this, have you?”

“No!” Twilight’s hoof pressed to her chest, letting her know that her breathing was coming back under control. “You really scared me for a minute there.”

“Sorry,” her brother said with an apologetic shrug. “We don’t normally argue like this in front of other ponies.”

“I guess you’re just so close to us that we forgot that you might not understand...” Cadance’s ears pointed back in contrition.

“This is... normal?” the young mare questioned, her head askew in a genuinely curious tilt. “Married couples do this?”

“Probably not the same way we do,” the princess admitted. “Every couple is different, and needs to find a way to communicate in a way that works for them. This is one way, and it works for us.”

“So... you do this kind of... ‘play fighting’ to work out your problems?”

“Just the simple ones. It’s mostly just for fun.”

“Whenever we have a serious disagreement, we set aside some time, sit down, and talk it out calmly,” Shining Armor commented. He pointed to his wife. “That’s Cady’s idea. It works.”

“I do know a thing or two about relationships,” the mare conceded, lifting a donut to her own plate. “And about resolving conflicts. I’ve been doing it for years. It’s different when you’re on the inside, but the advice is the same. It’s vital to never lose sight of what’s important.” She chewed her treat thoughtfully. “That reminds me... we need to talk about something important. And I think now is a good time.”

Twilight immediately sat up straighter. So did Shining Armor.

Cadance swallowed, took a sip, and breathed deeply. “Twilight, you understand that taking care of a child is a huge responsibility?”

“O– of course.” As if she could forget.

“And Shine, you understand that it’s your responsibility as well?”

The stallion nodded simply.

“With the new baby, Twilight may need our help. I promise you, I will support you both in any way I can. But there are some things I just can’t do. I can’t leave the Crystal Empire for more than a few days at a time. I can’t be there for Twilight if she needs somepony to help her take care of Little Cadance. But you can.” Her gaze fixed on Shining Armor, her brows low and lips thinned. “I will not have a deadbeat dad for a husband. Understand?”

The alicorn’s stare was sharp and oppressive; so much so that Twilight expected her brother to wilt beneath it. To her surprise, the stallion straightened himself more, the determination on his face reminiscent of a soldier taking vital orders. Only a salute was missing. He nodded again.

Cadance then turned back to the pregnant mare. “Twilight, as a mother your first responsibility must be to your daughter. If that means calling on Shining Armor to help you out, then that is what you must do, and you can’t feel guilty about it. He’s not just your brother anymore; he is also the father of your child. That changes the way our relationship works. It can put you and me into direct competition, and I want to make it clear right now: There isn’t going to be any. If you need Shining Armor to be with you – to live with you – then you can have him. Full-time.”

There was that rapid heartbeat sounding in Twilight’s chest again. “Wait, you’re not talking about... divorce...?”

The older mare appeared just as shocked by the prospect, letting out a tiny gasp. “No, no, of course not! When I married Shine, I did it knowing that we might face troubles down the road. This is actually something we talked about already.”

Twilight was confused. “You... talked about Shining coming to live with me to take care of our daughter?”

Cadance shook her head. “Not exactly. We talked about what would happen if we ever had to live apart. We both have duties that might force us to do that – Shining Armor is still a Royal Guardspony, after all, and I’m a Princess sworn to serve Equestria. Even before we got married, we knew that Shine might get sent on a mission to some faraway land, or I might need to represent Equestria on some kind of long-term delegation...” She shared a long glance with her husband. It was a look of bittersweet understanding. “We decided that even though a long-distance relationship might be difficult... we could make it through that.”

Twilight was in awe. She had had no idea how much thought this pair had given to their union, before even starting it. Even the current circumstances weren’t shaking them. Such level of planning and commitment could only be admired.

“I– I can’t take him away from you...” the unicorn argued weakly. “And what would other ponies say...?”

“Yes, you can. We all have to put your daughter’s well-being first. Being a single parent can be very difficult. Shining Armor can be there to help you; be a source of support. It might be strange to have your brother living with you, and yes, a few ponies might ask questions, but an uncle helping take care of his niece is not unheard of. You can make it work.”

Twilight silently questioned the stallion. She knew him well; ordinarily easygoing and talkative, he could also succumb to deathly seriousness when the occasion called for it. Invariably, the higher the stakes, the less he spoke.

And for the past couple of minutes he had been utterly silent.

“Twilight...” he said, calm and resolute, though his eyes held a light shimmer, “I’ll do whatever it takes. Just tell me what you need.”

The royal couple waited expectantly for the younger unicorn’s reaction. It was so odd; to see the husband and wife display such unity and understanding even when the topic at hoof was him leaving her to live far away, and with another mare, no less.

To do anything to rend that kind of relationship would be an abomination.

“Maybe someday you two will have to be apart...” Twilight declared, “...but it won’t be because of me.” Her countenance presented the picture of a mare resolved, brows furrowed and jaw tight. “I refuse to break you up. I’m going to raise Little Cadance in Ponyville with help from my friends. If I can’t make it there... then I’ll come live in the Crystal Empire with you. But I’m not splitting you apart!”

The proclamation stood between them with an air of judicial finality, sealed with a somber gulp of orange juice and the slamming of the empty glass like a makeshift gavel in a donut-scented courtroom.

“...Alright,” said Cadance, “but keep your options open. And remember: there is nothing more important here than the well-being of your child. That includes me. The day I put my own needs above the welfare of a foal is the day I’m not fit to wear this tiara.” She pointed determinedly at the towel atop her head.

There was a pause.

“Um... Cady...”

“You know what I mean!” she covered quickly, blushing, then mumbled, “I still have to put in that conditioner before we leave.”

Everypony laughed, the embarrassed, damp princess included.

“Right,” Shining Armor said, “is Twilight going to help with that, or should I?”

“I will,” the purple pony volunteered. After everything, it seemed the least she could do.

“We need to get going soon if we want to make that council meeting on time tonight,” Cadance stated. 

“Our transport is probably already waiting,” the stallion added, procuring the second-to-last donut under his wife’s disapproving scowl.

“Transport?” Twilight asked.

“Pegasus chariot,” he clarified. “The trains don’t really run on our schedule and this is easier than chartering one. Say, Twiley, how are you getting home?”

“I’m just going to take the evening train to Ponyville.”

He offered the final pastry up to the two mares. Twilight counted; she had managed to put away half a dozen donuts in record time, Shining was on his fourth, and the health-conscious Cadance had only taken one. Somehow, the pregnant unicorn was still hungry. Basic etiquette told her to keep quiet.

With a knowing smirk, Cadance tore the last donut in half, sharing it with her. A grateful Twilight savoured the final bit of baked nostalgia.

“Well, unless you have something left to do in Canterlot, why don’t you ride with us? We’ll drop you off in Ponyville on the way.”

“The Crystal Empire is north of here,” she reminded them. “Ponyville isn’t exactly ‘on the way’.”

Her brother gave her that cocky grin she so loathed and loved. “Hey, it’s a private chariot and we’re royalty. Ponyville’s on the way if we say it is.”

“Won’t that make you late for that meeting of yours?”

“Royalty,” Cadance emphasised, pointing to the familiar tiara she had magicked from somewhere in the meanwhile. “They’ll wait.”

It would be the second time is as many days that Twilight kept a ministerial assembly in anticipation. She sincerely hoped not to make a habit of it.

With the mares now headed off to the bathroom to finish grooming each other – Twilight’s mane needed a good brushing, if nothing else – Shining Armor again found himself excluded from the females’ activities. “Anything you want me to do?”

“You can pack our things,” the alicorn offered.

“Already packed.”

“Actually, there is something,” Twilight suddenly remembered. Her horn conjured up a glass vial with stopper, and presented it to her brother, as Cadance looked on curiously.

“What’s this?”

“I need a sample,” she explained. “I remember casting the contraception spell, and I’m sure I performed it correctly. I want to do some tests when I get back to Ponyville. Maybe I’ll be able to figure out what went wrong.”

She held the vial out closer, her face chiseled in determination, her mind in the familiar, well-trodden sphere of science.

“I need you to fill this up.”