Spike had rather gotten used to his routine in Ponyville. There was a kind of monotony to the day, a pattern that he had learned to enjoy, disrupted only by the occasional mythical beast, enchanted comic book, villain hell-bent on conquering something or other, or some amalgamation of all of the aforementioned.
Other than that, monotony.
Indeed, the greatest possibility for change came at the very beginning of the day. Spike would either wake up before Twilight or she would be in the basement, having spent the entire night working on some experiment or other.
Now, on this particular day, Twilight Sparkle was firmly planted on her bed, mane tangled amongst itself, a light snore filling the room, and her wings trapped beneath her.
Spike smiled at the sight, yawning and stretching luxuriously as he climbed out of his basket. With practiced silence, Spike crept out of the bedroom, down through the library proper and into their small alcove of a kitchen, tying a small apron around himself as he rummaged through the cabinets.
“Maybe a fruit salad today?” Spike wondered aloud. “Something special. Oh, a cupcake from Sugar Cube Corner! Or maybe not; Twilight wouldn’t really appreciate a cupcake this early in the morning.” He paused slightly, a thoughtful claw tapping against his chin. “What are you supposed to serve a Princess?”
“Spike?” Twilight’s voice carried down from her bedroom. “Spike!”
“Coming, Twilight!” Spike took off his apron and carefully set it aside, running back up the steps of the library and into the bedroom. Twilight still lay in her back, her mane still frazzled, her wings splayed open. She turned slightly as Spike entered the room.
“Morning, Twilight.”
“Spike, I need you to pick me up.”
“... What?”
“It’s these wings!” cried Twilight, trying to roll herself over. Her wings stayed where they were, acting as wedges. “I can’t get them to move!”
“Is that normal?”
“Of course it’s not normal!” Twilight flailed, trying to get back to her hooves. “It’s the exact opposite of normal!”
“That sounds bad.” Spike leaned against the doorway. “Do you think that it was that celebratory loop you did? That looked really tiring, especially for a novice flyer.”
“Spike!”
With a slight chuckle, Spike stepped up to Twilight’s bed, taking a firm grip on a hoof.
“Okay,” Twilight began, “we have to do this carefully. Wings are delicate, and I really don’t want to—”
“Go!” Spike pulled on the hoof, sending Twilight toppling over the edge of her bed. Unfortunately, this also brought the newly-crowned Princess directly onto his head.
Twilight groaned, touching a hoof to her head. “That wasn’t the plan.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” asked Spike from under Twilight.
“That’s not the point!” The alicorn carefully climbed to her hooves. “Either one of us could have been seriously hurt by that.”
Spike followed, dusting himself off as he got to his feet. “Twilight, you’re a Princess now, and I’m a dragon. We don’t get hurt easily.”
“It doesn’t mean that it’s impossible!”
“Yeah, but falling off of a bed isn’t gonna do it.” Spike ran a claw over his spikes, getting them back into place. “Speaking of that, have you thought about trading in that bed?”
Twilight glanced at her bed, its blankets dishevelled and a pillow laying on the ground next to it. “Why would I do that?”
“Well, if you’re gonna grow to Princess size, you’re not really gonna fit in it for much longer. Besides, it’s not exactly fit for royalty.” Spike made a rectangle with his claws, peering through them at the bed. “I’m thinking four posts, light purple canopy, maybe a little stitching with your cutie mark on it, the whole shebang!”
Twilight imagined it for a moment. A canopied bed, the same size that Princess Celestia had in her private chambers, tucked into this small alcove at the top of the library. “I don’t think that would work, Spike.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Spike shrugged, turning around and making for the doorway. “I mean, there’s probably already a bed like that in Canterlot Castle. No point in buying another one. Anyway, I’ll start making breakfast. Any requests, Princess?”
Twilight shook her head. Spike left, heading back down to the kitchen. Twilight Sparkle, however, stayed where she was, her gaze traveling over her bedroom. They traced over the untidy bed; over bookshelves filled to the brim with books, their covers tattered and worn and each one lovingly placed; over Spike’s basket and the window that overlooked the entirety of Ponyville.
There was no place for a canopy bed in that room.
“Twilight!” Spike’s voice carried from the kitchen. “Breakfast’ll be done in a few minutes!”
Twilight’s magic flared. The bed sheets floated up into the air, shaking a few times before descending and fitting snugly back into place.
“Coming, Spike.”
***
Twilight ate in silence, poking at her breakfast of dandelions, hay, and oats covered in honey, offering only the occasional grunt or “mmmm” if the situation called for it. Spike, for his part, didn’t do much talking, taking a few tentative jabs at conversation, but abandoning each attempt after a few lines. Eventually, both plates were emptied. With hardly a word, Spike gathered both plates and carried them over to the sink.
“Hey, Spike?” asked Twilight.
Spike set the water running, snapping rubber gloves over his claws. “Yeah, Twi?”
“I have to run a few errands this morning. I probably won’t be done for a few hours.”
“Anything I can help with?”
Twilight shook her head. “It’s nothing overly important. I can handle it all myself.”
“If you say so.” Spike turned back to his plates.
Twilight got to her hooves, wincing slightly as she forced her wings to fold back into place. A bit of feeling had returned to them, allowing her a bit of movement. However, that movement came at the price of a burning soreness.
I should probably ask Rainbow Dash about this.
Adding another point to her mental to-do list, Twilight left Spike to finish cleaning up and headed out to the town proper. The sun was cheerily bright, dragging the residents of Ponyville out of their homes.
Twilight smiled to herself as she struggled to walk within the crowd. These paths are positively packed with ponies.
“Good morning, Princess Sparkle.”
Twilight couldn’t tell where the voice came from. She glanced around the street, but found only staring eyes.
“Good morning,” said Twilight hesitantly. The crowd, previously milling about, was steadily slowing down, every head turning to look at the alicorn among them.
A pony near the back of the crowd waved a hoof. “Hi, Princess!”
Twilight waved back. Roseluck, a flower vendor, pushed her way to the front of the crowd.
“Princess, would you like a flower? It’s free for you, your majesty!”
Twilight gave a half-smile and shook her head. “No thank you, I just had breakfast. Anyway, I really should be getting back to work. Errands to run and all that.” She laughed nervously, taking a few steps forward.
Most of the crowd followed after her.
“Princess!” came one voice. “Where are you going?”
“Well, I have some errands to—”
“Princess, may I have your autograph?!” came another voice.
“I, I don’t think I have a paper or a qu—”
“I want your autograph too!”
“Can I take your picture?”
Twilight began to protest, but the first word was hardly out before a bright bulb flashed a few inches from her face. Twilight staggered backwards, crashing into a few members of the crowd.
“She touched me!”
“I want her picture too!”
“I asked for her autograph first!”
The crowd seemed to close around Twilight, hooves surging forward to make some kind of physical contact with the object of their affections. Twilight panicked, her magic flaring around her horn. A bright purple flash filled the street, dazzling the ponies of the crowd. When the lights disappeared from their eyes, Twilight Sparkle was gone.
***
Pinkie Pie sat in her kitchen, a bowl carefully balanced against herself, her whisk sending flecks of batter into the air. Pinkie hummed as she worked, the speed of her whisk to the rhythm of her song.
A bell sounded from somewhere in the room. Without missing a beat, Pinkie’s tail shout out, gripping the handle of one of the multitude of ovens and pulling it open. The smell of baked goods, already parading through Sugar Cube Corner, only grew as the newest batch of cupcakes went from oven to counter.
A flash of purple light shone through an open window, quickly followed by a twitching pink tail. Pinkie adjusted slightly, deftly setting aside her bowl and opening her hooves wide.
Twilight Sparkle let out a cry, a sickening feeling in her stomach as she went from standing to freefall instantaneously. Her eyes shut tight as she fell, expecting some pain as Twilight fell onto dirt or stone. However, that pain never came. Instead, Twilight landed on something rather soft.
“Hey there, Twilight!” said Pinkie excitedly from under the alicorn. “Nice of you to drop in.” She giggled slightly at her pun.
Twilight scrambled to her hooves. “Pinkie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Pinkie Pie climbed to her hooves, still giggling. “It’s okay, Twilight! I’d have moved if I wanted to move, but I didn’t want to move so I didn’t move!” Pinkie grinned.
Twilight knit her brow. “Why didn’t you?”
“Pinkie Sense says that a purple flash and a twitchatwitch means that a friend’s dropping by!”
“Really?”
“I have no idea,” admitted Pinkie with a shrug. “But that’s what happened! Anyway, what’s up Twilight? Besides you, of course.”
Twilight let out a sigh. “I just needed to get away from something.”
Pinkie nodded in understanding. “Stallion troubles?”
“What? No! At least, not in the way that you’re thinking.”
Pinkie shook her head, tutting softly. “Oh, Twilight, you know that you can’t lie to Pinkie Pie!”
“Pinkie, there’s no stallion.”
“Oooooooooh, why didn’t you say so?”
Twilight shook her head, huffing slightly. The sound of hooves beating along a dirt path carried through an open window. Twilight’s magic flared, quickly closing the curtains.
“So, who’s the lucky mare?” asked Pinkie.
Twilight furrowed her brow, staring confusedly at Pinkie for a time. Then she stamped a hoof. “It’s not a relationship problem!”
“Oooooooooooh! That makes a lot of sense.” Pinkie took up her bowl again, steadily whisking at the batter. “Then what made you drop by, Twilight?”
“The town went insane!” Twilight threw up her hooves, then began to pace slightly. “I was heading out, planning on running a few errands, which I haven’t even begun by the way, when I was surrounded by nearly everypony in town! They started crowding around me, asking for the ‘Princess’ to give them an autograph or for the ‘Princess’ to take one of their flowers.” She let out a groan of frustration. “The ponies in this town are crazy!”
Pinkie Pie let out a giggle.
Twilight rounded on her. “What?”
“You said that before!” Pinkie grinned, lifting her whisk from its bowl and bringing out an empty cupcake tin. “A loooooong time ago.”
There was a slight silence as Twilight thought back. “Well, I stand by my statement. All of the ponies in this town are crazy.”
“Then you’re crazy too, because you’re in this town.” Pinkie smiled, quickly placing a set of colorful cupcake covers into the tin. Twilight opened her mouth for a rebuttal, but nothing sprang to mind.
“Anyway Twilight,” continued Pinkie, “you can’t really blame them! I mean, you’re a Princess now, which means that ponies are going to treat you as a Princess.” Pinkie raised a hoof to her chin. “Unless they don’t treat you like a Princess. Would you still be a Princess if nopony acts like you’re a Princess?”
“Please stop saying Princess.”
“Okie-dokie-lokie!” Pinkie carefully began pouring batter into each of the tin’s cups. “But that’s what you are, Twilight. And that’s what you have to try to be, because you can’t be what you aren’t.”
Twilight stayed silent at that, thinking to herself as Pinkie resumed her humming, crossing the room and placing the tin of batter into an oven.
“Pinkie,” said Twilight, “I think I’m going to try to head out again.”
“Okie-dokie-lokie. Have fun!”
Twilight stepped out of the room and into the main area of Sugar Cube Corner. A dull thud carried into the kitchen as the alicorn went back out into Ponyville.
Pinkie Pie, meanwhile, milled about the kitchen, resuming her song once again. She opened drawers and cupboards, gathering bags of frosting and plastic knives. Another ding sounded from an oven and, again, Pinkie Pie pulled out a dozen perfectly baked cupcakes.
A purple flash, muted slightly by the freshly closed window, lit the kitchen, closely followed by a twitching pink tail. Pinkie had just enough time to brace herself before Twilight plummeted from the ceiling once more.
“It didn’t work out,” said Twilight, climbing onto her hooves and helping Pinkie back onto her own. “I think I’ll hide out in here for a bit.”
“No problem, Twilight; I’m just baking a little. Wanna help?”
“Sure, what do you want me to do?”
“Just top the cupcakes with that purple frosting.” Pinkie gestured towards one of the bags. “Put as much as you want, they’ll have cooled off by now.”
Twilight got to work, holding the bag of frosting in her magic and meticulously adding frosting. Every once in a while, it seemed to Twilight that one cupcake got a bit more frosting than the others, but she was able to fix that with a few deft swipes of a knife. Pinkie worked next to her, whisk flying as she worked on another bowl of batter.
“Hey, Twilight?”
Twilight stuck out her tongue, working on the frosting of a particularly difficult cupcake. “Yes, Pinkie?”
“Have you thought about what you have to do now that you’re a Princess?”
Twilight’s hoof jerked the slightest amount, scraping off more frosting than she’d meant to. “What do you mean?”
“Well… I don’t know, what’s gonna happen? Are you really moving back to Canterlot?” Pinkie kept a smile on her face as she asked that.
Twilight was silent for a few moments. “Yes, eventually. Princess Celestia told me just after the coronation.”
“Oh…” The smile slipped for a fraction of a second, but returned just as quickly. “Well, that’ll be really fun! A whole new town with so many new friends to meet!”
“I’ll try to visit as much as I can.”
Pinkie nodded, her smile brightening without quite reaching her eyes. She went back to her bowl. Twilight went back to her frosting.
They worked in silence for a time, a strange enough occurrence when Pinkie was in the vicinity. Yet, Pinkie kept her silence. Before long, Twilight had finished her dozen cupcakes and moved on to the second tin.
Pinkie was the first one to break the silence. “Hey Twilight, why do you keep falling?”
“What?”
“Well, you’ve dropped by two times now, which is always nice, except that ponies normally don’t drop by by dropping. And now that you have wings, I thought that it would be harder to drop.”
Twilight spread her wings slightly, wincing as the motion stretched sore muscles. “It would be, if these things actually worked. I strained them during the coronation.”
“Sore?” Pinkie stepped closer to Twilight, carefully inspecting her wings. “Is it a pinchy pain or a pully pain?”
“Pinkie,what are yo—GAH!” Twilight let out a yelp, a bolt of pain shooting through her as Pinkie unfurled one of her wings.
“Hmmmmm, definitely a pinchy pain,” muttered Pinkie.
Twilight rubbed at her wings. “It felt more like a Pinkie pain.”
Pinkie let out a snorting laugh. “That’s funny!”
“Not to me it wasn’t.”
“Well, don’t you worry Twilight, Pinkie Pie will make the wing pain fly away!” Pinkie smiled, tugging on Twilight’s hoof and drawing her out of the kitchen.
“Pinkie, what are you doing?”
“Taking you upstairs!”
Twilight tripped slightly on one of the stairs. “I can see that. Why are you taking me upstairs?”
“Massages are easier when you’re laying down, silly filly! Unless you want to lay down on the floor, but I don’t think that you’d want to do that.”
“Oh.” A pause. “What?”
Pinkie giggled, reaching the top of the stairs and leading the way into her room. “It’s a pinchy pain, Twilight, those are easy to work out if you know what you’re doing.”
“And you know what you’re doing?”
“Yuh-huh! Dashie taught me and Fluttershy how, since it’s normally one of us watching her practice and Dashie has a habit of flying too hard.”
“And you think that it would work on me too.”
Pinkie nodded and gestured to her bed. “Just lay down, relax and try to open up one of your wings.”
Twilight glanced at Pinkie, then towards the bed, taking a halting step forward. “Are you sure, Pinkie?”
“Of course! I’ve done it lots of times.” Pinkie paused slightly. “You trust me, don’t you?”
Twilight gave a half-smile. “Pinkie, there’s no way I couldn’t trust you. But it’s… it’s a very compromising position to lay down in somepony else’s bed. Not to mention that I’m still not entirely sure how these—” Twilight gestured to her wings “—actually work.”
“Oh…” Pinkie’s head lowered slightly, but picked back up just as quickly. “Well, that’s okay. Dashie has a few other things she does to fix sore wings; I can tell you about those instead.”
Twilight nodded once, feeling a slight sense of relief come over her. The feeling subsided quickly however, replaced by something akin to… confusion? realization? Something very similar, at the very least. Something that reminded her of who she was speaking to.
“Pinkie,” began the alicorn, “how long until I can use my wings?”
Pinkie’s head tilted slightly. “Probably around five days, if you do what Dashie does when Fluttershy or I can’t get to her.”
“And if I ask you to do the massage?”
“Light hovering in a few hours and you’d be zooming around in two or three days.” Pinkie’s voice had brightened considerably at this point.
Twilight laughed slightly. “I don’t know about zooming around, but it sounds like asking for your help is objectively the best course of action.” She turned around, laying on Pinkie’s bed with only the slightest awkward tilt to her movements.
Pinkie hopped happily after her, sitting awkwardly on the little piece of bed that remained. “Okay Twilight, just open up a wing.”
Twilight did so, with no inconsiderable amount of pain and even then, her wing hardly even left her side.
“It’s pretty bad, huh?” noted Pinkie.
Twilight bit her lip, the stinging lances coming from her wing keeping her from speaking.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Pinkie took hold of Twilight’s wing with surprising delicateness, stretching it out a bit more and coaxing a muffled cry of pain from the alicorn. The hooves continued to work, kneading into the wings before pulling again and repeating the pattern. Before long, the shots of pain had subsided, replaced by a very pleasant tingling and Twilight’s wing dislodged itself from her side.
“Alright, that’s that one,” said Pinkie, getting off of her bed. “Come over to this side and I’ll get to work on the other one.”
Twilight blinked a few times, fighting off a pleasant drowsiness that had crept into her system. She nodded and moved over, wincing as Pinkie stretched the terribly sore wing.
“Hey, Twilight?” asked Pinkie while she worked.
“Uh-huh?” Twilight wasn’t quite capable of more complicated words at that moment.
“Do Princesses have ponies that do things like this for them? Like a spa?”
“I don’t… think so,” mumbled Twilight. “Why?”
Pinkie’s hooves paused for a moment, but quickly resumed their movements. “If they did, would you use it?”
Twilight laughed. “Probably not. It was awkward enough laying down here.” Twilight felt her wing loosen slightly and let out a contented sigh. “But this is really nice.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Pinkie smiled, working in silence for a time. Then: “Do you think that you’ll ever get used to being a Princess?”
A pause. “Well, it’ll be really weird at first. I mean, I’m not exactly used to it, but it’s not like I can change it now that it’s happened. It might be an interesting social experiment to note the changes in the attitudes of ponies around me, however.”
Pinkie giggled. “That’s such a Twilight thing to say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Trust me, it’s a good thing.” Pinkie grinned widely, working a particularly bunched up part of Twilight’s wing. Silence fell on the pair again.
“I’m glad that you haven’t changed, Pinkie,” said Twilight.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
“What?”
“I think I change all the time.” Pinkie’s hooves left the wing for a moment, to Twilight’s dismay. “Ever since I saw the first sonic rainboom and I decided to be who I am, I’ve been changing. When I’m with Dashie, I become a little more of a pranky Pinkie. Rarity makes me into a more creative Pinkie, Fluttershy shows me how to be a calm Pinkie, and Applejack makes a productive Pinkie.” By now, Pinkie’s hooves had returned to their mark.
Twilight thought about that for a few moments. “That’s interesting. What do I make you?”
Pinkie Pie smiled at that. “A happy Pinkie.”
“Isn’t that just you?” asked Twilight with a growing grin.
“Then you make me a very happy Pinkie, Twilight. As if everyday was just a big ol’ festival.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, Pinkie.”
“Sweet as pie?”
Twilight laughed. “Sweet as pie.”
Pinkie resumed her work, taking perhaps a few moments longer than strictly necessary to work out the last few notes in Twilight’s wing.
“Alright,” said Pinkie Pie, “that’s it. Good as new, Twilight.”
A light snore carried up from the alicorn. Twilight was fast asleep, her wings spread in either direction, the barest hint of drool coming trailing down her mouth. Pinkie smiled at the sight and crept carefully off of her bed. She took one of Twilight’s hooves in her own and planted a light kiss onto it.
“Good night, Princess,” said Pinkie softly. She turned away, leaving the room with soft steps and closing the door behind her as quietly as she could.
Pinkie headed back down the stairs, crossing the main area of Sugar Cube Corner, the Closed sign still hanging from the door. Every once in a while, a pony would walk past the entrance or a window, but none of them had that frantic look from before.
Heading into the kitchen, Pinkie found the cupcakes, each one covered in the exact same amount of purple frosting. She crossed to another cupboard, taking out a can of pink frosting. With a few deft strokes, Pinkie added a six pointed star to each of the cupcakes. Pinkie moved the now completed cupcakes into a set of boxes, carefully balancing those boxes on her head and heading out onto the Ponyville streets.
“Pinkie!” called a voice from somewhere behind the baker. Pinkie Pie turned.
“Hey, Dashie!”
“Are those the cupcakes?” asked Rainbow Dash, pulling to a stop in front of Pinkie.
“Yuh-huh! Two dozen of ‘em, just like we decided.”
“Awesome, that was the last thing we needed.” A slight pause. “Well, except for Twilight. Have you seen her?”
“Yupyup, she’s asleep in my room. She’s been running away from ponies all morning, poor thing.”
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Please, I’ve had to run away from my fan club like every day!”
Pinkie laughed at that.
“Anyway,” continued the pegasus, “just have her come back to the library whenever she wakes up. I can take the cupcakes right now if you’ll wait with her.”
“No problem, Dashie!” Pinkie carefully transferred the cupcake boxes.
“Don’t forget, Pinkie! We can’t have a going away party if the pony who’s leaving isn’t there.” Dash waved her goodbye, speeding off in the direction of the Golden Oaks library.
Pinkie waved after her, the slightest droop coming into her posture. “Right. Going away party.” Pinkie stayed that way for a few moments, then stretched out her neck and grinned widely. “Well, better make it one that she can never forget!”
Author's Note
You can blame this story on Zaphod, who was the first in the OctaScratch Skype group to suggest a pairing that I was able to find cover art for.
As per usual, every comment is read, appreciated, printed out, minced, added into cupcake batter, poured into cupcake tins, placed in the oven, and used to supply the sugar that keeps me awake and writing kissy horses when I should be working on homework. But not in that order.
