Empty Shelves: A One-Shot

by radio414

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Fluttershy
Length: 2110

Twilight discovers how terrible perpetually empty bookshelves can be.

Books are invaluable possessions. If a book contains a good enough tale, it can be passed down from generation to generation, warranting multiple reads and rereads each time it is passed down.

Books are comfort. A well-built world can make a reader forget whatever troubles they may have.

Books are empowering. Books are memorable. Books are works of art.

Twilight Sparkle hasn't read a book in three days.

Published 2014-05-13 17:30:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-05-13 17:30:04 UTC

A Nightmare And A Daydream

Twilight’s bed stood on a single circular foot, its leg arcing in a neat semi-circlular fashion before finally supporting the mattress on top. And what a mattress it was! It felt like it was made with the springiest bedsprings, like Pinkie Pie’s springiness had been surgically removed and used to make a mattress.

Surrounding the bed was everything a pony could ever need in a bedroom. In one corner was a bookshelf towering from floor to ceiling. It was empty, of course, but that could easily be remedied once all of Twilight’s things were transferred over from…

The bedside table was just as grandiose as the other furniture. Mirroring the semicircle leg of the bed it was meant to accompany was already nearing some definition of gaudiness, but also being a rotunda of drawers instead of the expected unmoving quadrilateral was almost too much for Twilight to handle. Where would she put all of her personal belongings? The books that she wanted to read, where would they go?

Last, of course, was the ladder. Everything else in the room was crystalline or designed to appear as such, which made the brown ladder to the bed look completely out of place. There was even a ladder by the empty bookshelves that matched the setting perfectly well, so what was the significance of a wooden ladder in the middle of her bedroom?

Twilight didn’t want to complain too much, of course. The Tree of Harmony had already been generous enough in giving her friends the ability to defeat Tirek. The Friendship Palace (That was a terrible name, Twilight. Try again) was therefore something of a bonus. It was a place where she could arbitrate, where she could teach others and guide them to being the best friends that they could be.

Briefly, Twilight contemplated the nature of The Tree. It seemed to be some sort of psycho-historian, knowing exactly when certain events would take place, and how to emphasize or counteract them. How else would it know to provide its fruit to her and her friends, or to Princesses Celestia and Luna before that?

She shook her head. That would imply that the tree was, or was created by, a sentient being, and was capable of making rational decisions in response to external stimuli. But that couldn’t be true, could it? All of her life she had operated under the assumption of free will. While cutie marks had always put a damper on that theory, Twilight was a firm believer in the pony making the cutie mark and not the other way around. It was rational. It implied complete control over one’s life.

Twilight shook her head, but for a different reason this time. She had been completely exhausted ever since her confrontation with Tirek three days ago. At the time, she had run on adrenaline and an overload of alicorn magic. Now that she had returned everypony’s (and everydraconequus’) magic, all that strain had caught up with her. All Twilight wanted now to curl up with a good book for a few precious moments before sleeping for a day or two.

Well, one out of two wasn’t bad. Not desirable, of course, but not bad.

Zero out of two, on the other hoof, was miserable.

Yes, her bed was as soft as it looked. There were no lumps in her pillow and no rough spots in her sheets. Only clouds could even come close to comparing in the comfort they provided. Yet here she was again, eyes unable to stay closed for any substantial length of time.

Well, if this didn't work, would a cloud?

“Hmm." Twilight made sure that she was quiet enough to not wake a nearby Spike, but still found the noise to mumble her decision-making process. She didn’t need much time to weigh the pros and cons. “I probably need the fresh air anyways,” Twilight reasoned.

Taking a moment to readjust Spike’s bedsheets so that he was properly covered again, Twilight softly left the room, then the wing, then her palace entirely. Yes, a cloud had to be the answer.

“Princess Twilight Sparkle! Return to me what is mine by right!”

She had only ever heard that voice say thirty or forty words, yet it still managed to corrode whatever confidence she had in getting even a minute amount of sleep that night.

She wheeled around, and saw that the form indeed matched the voice. Instead of the haggard mess of a centaur Twilight had left him as when she and her friends had opened The Tree’s box, Tirek was once again the three-story tall monstrosity he had been during their confrontation. His horns sparked with blackened lightning, an orange ball of fire between them signalling the invocation of some doomsday spell.

Twilight cast a counterspell, and the orange sphere faded, only for another to take its place. Tirek was now charging at her, each hoof causing a small earthquake as it hit the ground. Any buildings in his way were ignored; Tirek plowed through them with the same ease an earth pony might have plowing a field.

Another counterspell from Twilight, another spell from Tirek. This time, the orange ball caused a similarly colored light to surround Twilight. Her wings suddenly folded and became locked to her sides. Her legs unbent and became similarly immobile. Whatever magical surge Twilight had prepared was deadened.

“Twilight!” It was Spike’s voice.

Spike? Where was he? Was Tirek about to hurt him? Was Tirek about to kill him?

“Twilight, wake up!”

All of Ponyville’s buildings began to melt. To some of them, like Carousel Boutique or Twilight’s palace, this meant that the upper spires fell to the ground. Instead of making a “crash” sound, though, Twilight heard a soft, but distinct, “splash!”

The ground was melting too! Twilight tried to fly away, but was once again hindered by the orange light of Tirek’s spell. Tirek, for his part, was now wading through the melting ground and debris, getting almost within range to drain her magic.

“Twilight! You need to wake up!”

Faster! Everything was melting faster, merging with the ground to form one giant puddle. Even Tirek was apparently suffering the phenomenon’s effects; his horns had melted away, the spell they were casting disappeared in a similar manner. Twilight could fly again, but only was able to watch as the world around her turned into a multicolored goop before it faded away, leaving nothing but an inky black.

"C’mon, Twilight.” Spike’s voice was softer this time, much more soothing. Slowly, Twilight opened her eyes. Her room was as it always had been, or was going to be? The tense didn’t matter right now.

Her body was contorted into some nigh-unfathomable shape. If she hadn’t somehow managed to get herself into that position, she would not have believed such a shape was possible. Her mouth clutched the sheets with such vigor it was surprising that she hadn’t developed lockjaw. Her wings were unfolded, but tucked behind her back. As she folded them back into place…

“Ah!”

“You okay?”

“Maybe. I’m feeling pretty sore.”

Every muscle felt like it had never been moved before, as if this were an entirely new body and Twilight was taking it for a test run. Her movement seemed alien, too. Every leg movement was stiff, jerking her body around.

“Are you okay?” Spike asked again.

“Just… give… me… a… second…” The effort came from Twilight trying to mentally comb the room, searching for her book on …

“Oh. Right.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just… Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Are you sure?”

Twilight gave her best reassuring smile. “My friends are all safe. I’m safe. I’ve easy access to all of a pony’s basic necessities. Why would anything be wrong?”

Spike upped the ante with a deadpan stare. “I’ve seen you sigh wistfully at that empty bookshelf at least thirty times now. I’ve seen you go through the motions of reading something without having something to read. Two nights ago, you tried to extract plot elements from the shopping list that you wrote down.

“And now you’ve just had a nightmare. What’s wrong, Twilight?”

Twilight sighed. She opened her mouth, but only could take a staggered breath before closing it again. She winced; her jaw was sore as well.

Breathe in

Breathe out.

Someone knocked on the front door. “Take your time,” Spike said. “I’ll be right back.”

What was wrong? Why, almost seventy-two hours later, did she still feel like The Tirek Incident had just happened?

Twilight remembered her conversation with Pinkie. “This one was the one I was so absorbed in when Spike decided he owed Applejack a life debt," she had said. "And this one reminds me of the day I got it - which is the day I met all of you.”

Memories. That’s what Tirek stole from her. Every single book in that library had a memory attached. Just because some were more important than others didn’t mean that every book didn't have one. Just because the books were gone didn't mean they weren't there.

“Weren’t ever there,” Twilight mumbled, correcting her tired mind. She looked up at her empty bookshelf. How many shelves did it have, anyway? One… Two… Three… Four…

“The primroses were over. Toward the edge of the wood, where the ground became open and sloped down to an old fence and a brambly ditch beyond, only a few fading patches of pale yellow still showed among the dog’s mercury and oak tree roots. On the other side of the fence, the upper part of the field was full of rabbit holes,” said a voice.

Twilight gasped. “Fluttershy?”

It was Fluttershy! Walking as timidly as ever, yet exuding an air of confidence, the pegasus walked in, a tired smile on her face. “Good eveni- er, Good morning, Twilight.”

A shocked “Good morning.” was all that Twilight could manage.

There was an awkward silence.

Spike reentered the room to find Twilight staring at Fluttershy with her mouth hung open. “Not bad for a few days, huh?”

“How did you… What did you…”

Fluttershy’s smile grew a bit bigger. “It was Spike’s idea,” she said. “He thought that, because you lost all of those stories, we could all learn a few to keep you company while you rebuild your collection. He also said it might help you sleep if you got a bedtime story.”

Spike pushed his chest out. “Rarity’s working on The Model, Applejack’s working on that Jungle book you lent her. Rainbow Dash, not for lack of trying, hasn’t been able to memorize anything, but she said that you could borrow her Daring Do collection ‘until I want it back.’”

“And what’s Pinkie Pie doing?”

Twilight was smiling before Spike had even answered her question. “She’s planning a giant story party! Everypony who knows any kind of story is going to gather next week near the gazebo and we’ll all tell them to each other. Pinkie’s even going to try to get a small publishing house to be there, so that the stories we tell can be some of the first ones to be added to your collection.”

“Rainbow Dash said Pinkie is even coordinating with the weather team,” Fluttershy chimed in. “It’s going to be a great night for sleeping under the stars. If it goes too long, that is.”

For a brief moment, the three of them stood there, just smiling, no, just being with each other.

Twilight was the first to break. Yawning, she said, “Well, I guess I better get to bed. Goodnight Spike. Goodnight Fluttershy. Thank you so much.”

Those with wings flew up to Twilight’s bed, one perching at the edge of the mattress, the other making their way under the covers. The one without went back over to his bed, and did similarly. “You just said, the field was full of rabbit holes,” he said.

“Right,” said Fluttershy. Taking a deep breath, she began where she left off:

“In places the grass was gone altogether and everywhere there were clusters of dry droppings, through which nothing but ragwort would grow. A hundred yards away, at the bottom of the slope, ran the brook, no more than three feet wide, half choked with kingcups, watercress, and blue brooklime. The cart track crossed by a brick culvert and climbed the opposite slope to a five-barred gate in the thorn hedge. The gate led into a lane…”

Twilight Sparkle had the best night’s sleep of her life.

Author's Note

This hopefully goes without saying, but the book Fluttershy recites is Watership Down by Richard Adams. It's definitely worth your time.