“I’m such an idiot.”

Shining Star mashed her face against one of Sugarcube Corner’s new little outdoor tables. Some exceedingly unhelpful part of Star’s mind noted that the tabletop was a lovely shade of pink, and it made her hungry for a cupcake.

Star squeezed her eyes shut and sternly shushed that train of thought. She was far too busy being miserable to have time to enjoy a pastry.

But then what am I doing here at a bakery?

“Shut up, brain, and think!” The little voices in her head quieted their clamor and focused on the problem at hand. Which had the unfortunate effect of reminding Star about the problem at hand and how entirely screwed she was.

Star rubbed her face across the table, moaning in despair.

“I’m such an idiooooot…”

All of the face-dragging might have left a bit of a saliva on the table. Star cracked an eye open just long enough to confirm that, yes, there indeed was a thin little trail of spittle arcing from here to where her head had been a moment ago. She closed her eyes and decided that, no, it really didn’t matter. Her mental anguish was simply too great for her to worry about a little drool.

“What’s wrong, silly bean?”

The peppy voice popped the thin bubble of self-loathing solitude Star had built up.

“Eep!” Star jumped up in her seat and she quickly brushed the table in what she hoped looked like an entirely nonchalant way. “What?! Who?”

A pair of wide blue eyes in a fuzzy pink face stared back at her.

“I said, what’s wrong? You’ve been calling yourself some mean words for a bit, now,” said the other mare.

Shining Star shook the panic out of her head and took a good look at her addressee. Or addresser. Whatever.

There was a little smudge of powdered sugar on Pinkie Pie’s face, but it didn’t stop her gentle smile from stretching from one ear to the other. As always, her wild, tangled mane was just barely held in its usual bun by a multicolored army of hairclips and pins.

“I messed up today,” Star finally said. “Big time. Super big time.”

“Ahh, didjya?” Pinkie produced a steaming cup of cocoa from behind somewhere and slid it over the mostly-dry table to Star. “Why don’t you tell Auntie Pinkie Pie all about it, and then I’ll make sure you know that it’s not as big of a deal as you think it is.”

Star fixed Pinkie an odd look as she picked up the offered mug. “You’re not really my aunt, you know.”

“I’m everypony’s aunt,” she replied without missing a beat.

“I don’t think that’s—”

Star was interrupted by a pink hoof on her mouth.

“Sh, sh, shhhhh!” Pinkie gently hushed her. “I’ve waited my entire life to get to the age where I can be the cool, fun auntie, and I’ve only got a decade or two before I gotta transition to being the cool, fun grandma. So I’m not going to wait for a visit from Maud’s kids to get some of this middle-aged awesomeness fired up.”

Pinkie grinned and locked eyes with Star.

“I am your Auntie, capiche?”

Star nodded and did her best to mumble something affirmative from around Pinkie’s surprisingly sweet hoof.

“Spleeeendid!” Pinkie sing-songed as she removed her hoof. “Now, tell Auntie Pie everything, young one!”

Star’s face met the table again, with a renewed groan.

“… I think Princess Luna hates me, now.”

A contemplative look crossed Auntie Pinkie’s face.

“Oh boy, that sounds like a doozy.” She readjusted herself on her chair. “How about we take it from the top, huh?”

“Yeah, sure.” The young mare sighed, and started from the beginning.

---

Shining Star barged into the reading chamber, taking quite a bit of pleasure from angrily flinging open the heavy mahogany double-doors with an unrestrained burst from her horn. They made a satisfying clap against the frame, and again when they closed behind her.

Inside, Luna warily flicked her eyes up from the scroll in her grasp. With lips pursed, she removed her reading glasses and set them aside.

“Is something the matter, my faithful student?” she asked, with that knowing tone in her voice that Star found irritating.

“Don’t play coy with me,” growled Star. “Uncle Armor accidentally let it slip that Flurry Heart is going to is going to Yakyakistan this fall. Not me.”

“Yes,” Luna replied, as if a foal had just asked her if the sky was blue. “She is.”

“B-but… It’s not—! Argggh!” Star stomped her hoof, but the thick carpet muffled the sound. “You promised me that the spot on the peace summit wasmine! I’ve spent months preparing for it!”

“I promised,” began Luna, sternly, “that the spot would be yours, if you were ready for it.” Luna’s expression softened, and so did her tone. “I’m sorry, Star, but yesterday my sister and I spoke about this with Cadence, Shining Armor, and your mother. We expect that the recent unrest will make the tone of the talks much more… difficult than we originally expected. It is not for a lack of effort, but you are simply not ready for that kind of environment.”

“But I did the research!” Star knew she was pleading, but at this point she was beyond caring. “I know all there is to know about the recession and the changes to their foreign policies. I can handle it!”

“Have you considered what the Yaks might think of it?”

“Of course I have!” Frustration spilled into Star’s voice. “I just said that I did the research!”

“No,” said Luna. “I meant to say, have you considered what the Yaks would think of you.”

“Wha-what?” Star was caught off-guard, and she faltered for a moment.

“Yakyakistan is experiencing their first recession in living memory, but they are a proud people.” Luna made little gesticulations while she talked—an idle habit that her sister did not share. “They expect their situation to be addressed with the proper respect and dignity from all sides. How do you think they will feel when Equestria, their most powerful neighbor, sends them an unexperienced eighteen year old representative to the summit they have so painstakingly prepared despite unexpected hardships? It will be a slap to the face.”

Shining Star didn’t know what to say, so she fumed silently instead. Luna saw the look in her eyes, and put a sliver more of steel in her voice.

“You will be on the back hoof the entire time, trying to apologize for the offense of your presence,” said Luna. “Everything you say, and all of the propositions you submit will be given only perfunctory consideration. They’ll look for every opportunity to belittle your significance to mask their wounded pride. You will be frustrated; you will feel inept. Ultimately, the experience will set back your progress to becoming a statesmare.”

“Don’t tell me how I’ll feel!” snapped Star. Somewhere in Star’s head, she knew it was wrong, but she was far too angry to accept anything Luna was saying.

Luna, meanwhile, pursed her lips the way she always did when she knew she had won the argument. It only infuriated Star all the more.

“Fine, I won’t,” said Luna, “I’ll tell you what the Yaks would feel. Because whether you like it or not, Flurry Heart is an accomplished ambassador and is a well-known figure in Equestria’s foreign relations efforts. She has already built a relationship with Yakyakistan, and they will find her presence familiar. And if you have done your research, you know the value the people of Yakyakistan place upon familiarity.”

“So—so is that it?!” Star stomped again. “Just like that, the most important thing I would have ever done in my life goes to Little-Miss-Perfect Princess Flurry Heart? Again!”

“I am truly sorry, Shining Star,” said Luna. “These circumstances are most unfortunate, but I am fully confident that next time you’ll be able to—”

“Next time?!” Star was shouting now. “It’s always next time, isn’t it? Meanwhile, Princess Perfect-Face gets every opportunity she could dream of!”

“Shining Star, you will calm yourself,” said Luna.

“No, I won’t!” Star gleaned a hint of mad satisfaction from her rebelliousness. “Why won’t you let me do anything? Is it because I don’t have a pair of wings to go with my horn like she does?”

“That is absolutely preposterous, Shining Star, and you know it.”

“No!” said Star. “What’s preposterous is how you keep telling me that I’m too inexperienced to do anything, but you won’t let me go get experience! You’re driving me crazy! It’s utter bucking lunacy!”

One of Luna’s eyebrows rose, but Star hardly noticed it in her uncontrolled anger.

“Excuse me?” Luna said, her voice bearing a slight edge.

“Well,” said Star, full of bitter sarcasm, “pardon the language, but what you’re doing here is complete and total bucking luna—”

Then it hit Star like an express train at full speed. Suddenly she realized exactly what she had just said and who she was saying it to. Her anger drained from her body just as quickly as the color from her face, leaving her shaking at the knees from the unspent adrenaline.

Meanwhile, Luna’s razor sharp gaze didn’t budge an inch from Star’s wide and desperate eyes.

“Oh, Tartarus.” Star’s voice finally croaked out from her throat. “I swear to heavens that I didn’t mean it.”

---

“Dang,” said Pinkie Pie.

“Yeah,” said Star with her cheek on the cute pink patio table. “‘Dang’ sounds just about right.”

“Do you… fight with Princess Luna often?” asked Pinkie.

“No!” said Star. “Well, I mean, we debate a lot. We both like it, and it’s really helpful for us most of the time. But this time I let it go too far. I was just so frustrated, you know?”

“Of course I know!” Pinkie nodded sagely. “There’s nothing worse than feeling like what you’re doing doesn’t mean anything. It can really make a mare do crazy things, like host a party for a ball of lint and a bag of flour.”

“Or say the L-word to Princess Luna herself. Twice.” Star groaned into the table. “By Tartarus, I’m such an idiot.”

“Aww, c’mon now!” Pinkie threw a foreleg over Star’s shoulder. “It’s probably not nearly as bad as you think. What did she say afterwards?”

“That’s the thing! She didn’t!” Star emphasized her words with a dramatic flourish of her hooves. “Well, not really. All she said was to come back when I understood what I said to her really meant. And then she just ignored me until I left! She’s never done that before!”

“Hm…” said Pinkie, tapping her chin with a hoof. “Well, I’d hate to bring up the obvious, but have you asked Twilight what she thinks about it?”

“Are you crazy? Then I’d have two angry Princesses on my rear! Mom would freak out! With a capital ‘F’!”

With that, Star reinvigorated her efforts to fuse her face to the surface of the table.

Pinkie smiled and sighed. “Like mother, like daughter, huh?”

“I’m nothing like my mom!” Star insisted. “She would… well, she’d probably do something like…”

Star slowly lifted her head up, with an odd expression drawn across her face. The cogs in her head were turning furiously, sending the little voices from earlier scrambling for cover. One stray little thought hit a switch on its way out, and the whole inside of Star’s head lit up like a lightbulb.

“That’s it!” she said. “I need to do research! There’s probably something about the word that I don’t understand yet, and Luna won’t accept my apology until I do!”

Like an arrow from a bow, Star leapt up from her seat and blazed down the street towards the palace and its library. Pinkie watched as halfway down the block, she skidded to a halt, turned on a dime, and raced right back to Sugarcube Corner’s patio.

“You’re the best, Auntie Pinkie!” Star said as she squeezed Pinkie in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“No problem, buster.” Pinkie patted the top of Star’s head. “Everything will turn out alright, okay?”

“Yeah! Thanks for the cocoa. And for everything!”

Shining Star’s academically-inclined little legs were already all tuckered out after her brief sprint, but she instructed them to submit their complaints at a later date. With a burst of nerdy determination, she made her way down the street, nearly as quickly as she was going before.

---

“Is anyone in here?” echoed a deep voice through the mostly-empty library.

“Just me, Spike!” Star called out from her little corner. She poked her head out from behind the towers of books stacked on the table she had commandeered from the lobby. “Over here!”

Spike made his way over, whistling in awe at the piles of books Star had accumulated. He stretched out a wing and idly dragged it across the largest stack.

“That’s quite the study session you’ve got going on there, Star,” said Spike.

“Don’t worry; I’m taking good care of them. Your book-hoard is safe with me, sir dragon.”

“I’d never doubt it.” Spike chuckled. “Really though, I know it’s kinda hard to tell how late it’s getting down here, but we actually have a closing time. Enforced by yours truly.”

“Oh, darn! I must have lost track of time!” Star quickly glanced over the array of opened books and notes spread out in front of her, and she chewed on her hooftip. “Is it okay if I get an hour or two to wrap things up? I was just in the middle of compiling my notes, and I want to outline a summary while it’s still fresh on my mind.”

“Yeah, take your time. I’m no stranger to the late-night cram session.” Spike stretched out and reclined on the floor next to Mount Bookverest. “But really, you probably don’t need to stress out so much over… things.”

Star narrowed her eyes a little. Spike wasn’t really the most subtle person she knew, and he never gave oddly vague advice unless he was trying to keep mum about something.

“Pinkie told you?” Star hazarded a guess.

Spike awkwardly rubbed his head-spines.

“She… may have mentioned some details about something between you and a certain Princess,” he said. “And she may have also asked me to check in on you.”

“Well, you shouldn’t worry. I’m actually pretty pleased with myself,” said Star. “I’ve catalogued all significant written uses of the L-word since the start of the Classical Era, and I think I’ve narrowed down its possible origin. Tomorrow I’m going to Canterlot, and I’m going to apologize for exactly what it means.”

“That’s… certainly a plan.”

Star’s ear flicked.

“Why are you using that tone?” she asked.

“Whaaaat tone?” said Spike.

“That one!” She pointed accusingly. “The one you always use when you don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings.”

The dragon threw up his arms in surrender.

“You got me. I’m a bad liar.” Spike sighed. “The thing is, I’m afraid you might be going at this at the wrong angle.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well, I’ve known Celestia all my life, and I’ve known Luna for a while now,” said Spike. “In a lot of ways, they’re very different ponies, but they do share some big similarities.”

Star nodded. “Go on.”

“Like, they’re both pretty farsighted. Not their actual eyes, but in terms of how they approach problems. I guess you kinda have to be, once you live that long.” There was an odd look in Spike’s eye for just a moment before he blinked it away. “The thing is, they don’t see most mistakes as reasons for punishment. They’re bigger than that. They know that mistakes can be valuable experiences, and they wouldn’t throw an opportunity like that away for the sake of feeling good about themselves.”

“What’s that got to do with this?” asked Star.

“Well, for one thing, I’m pretty sure Luna didn’t tell you to think about the meaning of a single word just so she can feel high and mighty when you apologize for using it,” said Spike. “Chances are that there’s something she wants you to learn outside of a vocabulary lesson.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, little slugger.” Spike gently tapped the tip of his claw against Shining Star’s chest, just over her heart. “Something like that has got to come from here, you know.”

“Um, okay,” said Star as she rubbed at her fur where Spike had poked her.

“Just saying that the answer you’re looking for might not be in a book.” Spike grinned. “But, as your mom always told me, it never hurts to check. It’s good for getting your thoughts in order, that’s for sure.”

Star nodded and returned to cataloguing her research. Spike watched her for a few minutes before stretching his back and leaning against a nearby pillar.

“There’s something about the sound that a pen makes that always kinda puts me to sleep,” he said. “I might doze off for a bit, but wake me up when you’re done, okay? I don’t want to leave until I can get this place locked up for the night.”

“Sure thing, Spike,” Star said.

She shot him a quick smile that he returned before he let his eyes slide shut.

---

Okay, okay, okay!

Star jogged a few mental laps as she made her way down the hall that led to Luna’s study.

Okay, okay! You’ve got this.

She imagined a sports stadium full of little ponies with pompoms spelling out her name and cheering her on. Just to indulge herself, she added a couple of sweaty colts in hoofball gear to the mix. Oh yes, that will do very nicely…

As she caught sight of the familiar mahogany doors, her thoughts screeched to a halt. The resulting mental earthquake sent the little cheerleaders tumbling off of their pony pyramid, and the burly hoofball colts scrambled to catch the prettiest ones before they hit the ground.

Clearing her head with a shake, Star took a deep breath, held it in, and knocked on the door before she had a chance to convince herself not to.

“Come in,” said Luna from the other side.

It’s not too late! You can still run! said a desperate and increasingly irrational part of her brain. Or you can knock Luna out or something! Yeah, just punch her! What could go wrong?

Star told her amygdala to knock it off with the whole fight or flight thing. Giving her notes one last glance-over, she bowed her head and pushed open the door with a shaking hoof.

“P-Princess Luna?”

The alicorn removed her glasses and put away a few thick manuscripts before speaking.

“Hello, Shining Star.” As always, Luna wasted little time before getting to the point. “Have you something to say after Tuesday’s little spat?”

“Ye-yes, I do.” Star cleared her throat to steady her wavering voice. “After I calmed down, I realized that you were right in assigning Flurry to the summit instead of me. I was angry and I had no right to yell at you or… use some of the words that I did. I know it’s not my place to ask, but I really hope you can forgive me for how I’ve acted.”

“My faithful student,” said Luna with a pointed look in her eyes. “Your apology is certainly accepted. But that’s not what I expected from you today.”

“Oh, right! The research!” Star fumbled with a few notecards before finding her place. “The word ‘lunacy’”—she cringed—“comes from the original root word ‘lunatic’, which was first documented in a letter from the 4th century written by undersecretary White Rose to General Bull Run, but it is believed to have been in use since the beginning of the Classical Era. Its original meaning refers exclusively to believers of superstition or unlikely prophecies, but since the 6th century at latest, it has been used to describe any sort of unsound thought or insanity.”

Star levitated a bundle of notes and a folder of documents out of her saddlebags and onto Luna’s desk.

“I’ve indexed significant uses of the word for you to browse, if you’d like,” she said. “On the first page, you’ll see a quick overview of the key uses of the word in novels and plays that played a large cultural role in increasing its popularity and broadening its meaning. I’ve tracked the usage of the word through the height of its use about forty years ago, all the way to the present day. I’ve included references to some current debates regarding its unofficial censorship since your return. In particular, Griffish author Oskar Talondown argues that the meaning and cultural significance of the word has grown beyond its original reference to you.”

Luna touched none of the papers Star offered her. Instead, she kept her eyes locked to Star’s throughout the little presentation.

“That is all very fascinating,” said Luna, “but not at all what I had hoped for you to learn.”

“I… I’m sorry, Luna,” said Star. She lowered her head again. “Spike mentioned that my research might not be on the right track. I’ll… I’ll try again. Thank you for your time.”

Star turned to leave, but a midnight blue aura gently closed the doors in front of her.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Luna. “I’ll be happy to explain it for you right now.”

Star turned back to her teacher and eagerly nodded.

“Yes, please!” she said. “Thank you so much for—”

“None of that, now.” Luna waved away whatever Star was trying to say. “If I wanted to be groveled at, I’d get a puppy.”

Star opened her mouth to apologize, but thought better of it. Silently, she sat across Luna’s desk and nodded.

“I find it somewhat amusing,” said Luna, as she motioned to Star’s research notes, “that even with all your work, you hardly gave any consideration to the true origin of the word: me.”

Star’s brows bunched up in confusion.

Luna gave her a comforting half-smile before continuing.

“The word would not have existed if I hadn’t allowed myself to become the Nightmare. Don’t you think there could be a lesson somewhere in that?”

“You’re saying,” said Star, cogs turning, “that I ought to learn to control my… er—you know—jealousy?”

“That is but a part of it,” said Luna. As she continued, her voice softened. “I know how easy it is to blame others for how bleak or how unfair things may seem at the present. But I also know firsthand, that no matter how irrevocable your mistakes may seem, you will always have those around you to bring out the best in you again.”

Luna leaned over until their eyes were level with one another’s.

“You have a destiny, Shining Star,” she said. “You needn’t fret or be worried about it. As clearly as I can see the mark on you flank, I know that you will do great things in your life, and you will look back and be pleased with yourself. With wings or not, I know in my heart that you are fated to find your place in the Harmony of our world. Please, know this: I am already so proud of you, and wait with baited breath, just as you do, for the day you can finally prove yourself.”

Stepping out of her seat, Luna walked to Star and draped a wing over her. Star did her best to hide her sniffles, and she returned Luna’s embrace.

“Thank you, Princess Luna.”

“Of course, my faithful student.”

---

“Hiya, Star!” Pinkie waived at her from the table she shared with Applejack. “You seem happy!” she added with a grin.

“Yeah, I am!” Star took a seat to join the two of them. It was a beautiful day, and there was nothing that she needed to get done.

“I take it that things worked out between you and the Princess?” said Applejack.

Star raised an eyebrow. “Pinkie told you about it, too?”

“I’m sorry!” said Pinkie squeezing her hooves together. As if to apologize, she produced three glasses of iced tea and slid them around the table. “I couldn’t help it!”

Applejack chuckled as she picked up her glass.

“Yeah, Pinkie was just about fit to burst with how worried she was over you. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with us.” Applejack winked. “She made Spike, Flutters and I Pinkie-promise not to tell Twi anything.”

“Thanks Applejack, I appreciate it.” Star smiled and sighed. “And yes, things went well with Princess Luna. Better than I could have hoped, too!”

“Glad to hear it, sugarcube.” Applejack smiled and leaned back in her seat.

“By the way,” said Pinkie, “I thought you’d be at the farm all day today. Isn’t it getting close to cider season?”

Applejack clicked her tongue. “Dash and the kids are taking care of my chores for me. Late mother’s day present, they’re calling it. And after being in Flight Camp all month, I think some time at the farm would be good for ‘em.”

“Aww, how sweet of them!” said Pinkie.

“Naw, it ain’t!” Applejack grinned. “I positively know those hooligans are gonna try to sneak the first few bottles for themselves. But, hey, I’m not complaining about gettin’ a day off out of it!”

Pinkie giggled into her hoof. “Apple Bloom was complaining about having to ‘keep four good-for-nothing pegasi out of trouble’ this morning when she got her coffee. I hope she and Mac aren’t having too much trouble.”

Applejack waved a hoof.

“They’ll be fine,” she said. “I’d like to think of it as a good learnin’ experience for everyone involved. I’m mighty confident that things’ll turn out for the best.”

Shining Star took a sip of her sweet tea and couldn’t help but agree. For some reason, today it felt like everything was exactly how it ought to be.

---