Pinkie & Pie
A Hoof at the Door
Load Full StoryTwilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship, had earned the highest regard from the ponies of Canterlot. She was knowledgable and modest; rustic, stiff, and occasionally lacking in common sense, yet exceedingly lovable. She held her title with all the grace and humility her teacher, and in-law, Princess Celestia expected of her. She honored her majesty’s confidence in whatever means she deemed respectable; she attended various events, suffering the pretentious quirks of high culture, so that she may indulge in Celestia’s presence. She poured over mounds of books, so she would not be deficient; eager for any task presented, and confident in the knowledge she accumulated. Yet she was curiously reluctant to suffer the boons of royalty; she preferred the comfort of her books and dearest friends over the highs which Canterlot offered.
No doubt, when presented with the dizzying affluence of the elite, strict and demanding nothing short of faultless presentation, anypony would be exhausted by the incessant self-grooming required to preserve personal reputation; such things, beyond what good sense demanded, were relatively absent in Ponyville; and it was with joy that Fancy Pants could engage with a kind mare so well versed in country life. Hence the bond that united him with Twilight Sparkle. On the surface, it was unsurprising that two high profile ponies would find comfort in each others presence; and if not for the stallions current engagement, would breed further gossip of the pairs relationship.
It was by chance that the pair would meet again; for they often met when engaged in business. Sparing Twilight the charms of high society, Fancy Pants led her down a large avenue into an old quarter of Canterlot. The area was quite large, and crowded with fillies brought from the furthest regions of Equestria. They all seemed happy, and instilled with exuberant energy that tested the nerves of their handlers. Even when the quarter was empty, it still shone out its crowded and disquieting neighbors; rows of trees and dense foliage provided home to flocks of birds and other critters whose music drowned out the discordant noise of thriving trade; and, with its polished stone, lustrous statues, and the general cleanliness of the park, attracted those who would become inspired by the majesty of their forebears.
At the center of the quarter was a courtyard hosting a large statue, rusted green by the surrounded air, and stained by rainfall, greeting visitors to the museum, tended and remodeled, but still in disagreement with the cities modern marvels. Fancy Pants and Twilight, ever mindful of the fillies, made disorderly by the appearance of a princess and a blue mustache, made their way into the museum.
“Is it your first time visiting this museum?” asked Fancy Pant; and when Twilight affirmed his question, “It used to be the guildhall for Canterlots local artisans. When I learned that it was to be demolished, I had rallied a number of my associates and purchased the property.”
“I cant imagine anypony would want to pave over this place.” said Twilight.
“The demands of trade do not always favor our city’s heritage. A great deal was done to convince the owners to hand this place over to us. Now I can only hope our society’s* investment will bear fruit. For that I’m glad to have you here.”
“I would never turn down a friend, though I was surprised Princess Celestia requested me to be here. Ive read plenty about Equestria’s history, but I cant claim any sort of authority.”
“While that is true, Celestia has donated a considerable sum to our venture. She is as much entitled to decide how the museum is to proceed as the rest of us. For that you will be acting as her proxy. I have no doubts of Celestia’s decision to bring you here.”
“lll do my best,” said Twilight; she looked away from Fancy Pants; in part to conceal her disquiet, and to better survey the works being carried about.
“By the way,” she said; “My friends will also be attending. They are helping to bring a collection I thought would be perfect for your museum.”
“Really?” asked Fancy Pants; “What sort of collection?”
“Its like nothing I’ve ever seen,” said Twilight in earnest; “A friend of mine, upon learning that your museum was accepting donations, urged me to bring along a collection in her possession, belonging, supposedly, to a late relative. I was a bit skeptical by her claim, but I had decided to humor her, and joined her in her house, where she kept her ‘treasure’ in a small closet. It didn't seem likely that anything of value would have been kept in such a convenient space, but I was surprised when she presented a large trunk, clearly aged, with a design I had never once beheld. More surprising were the contents; the trunk was filled with various letters, and manuscripts properly preserved, but obviously collected well before our time. I had to take special care not to damage one of the manuscripts I had pulled from the trunk. The pages were made of vellum^, all written in the Old Equestrian style; only Princess Celestia could have properly read it. They contained old formula’s that, I am told, were used to treat a number of ailments ponies suffered in the Petra Valley. She told me that the owner, a Dr. Diane Pie, had amassed a fortune from her work, most of which is still in her family’s possession. Im not so sure about the particulars of her work; and I cannot recall any books that mention her; but to have such a large collection that, if translated, could give detail about life in one of the most isolated regions of Equestria.”
Fancy Pants patiently listened to the alicorn’s utterances, touched by the joy and excitement in her voice; when, at last, she paused for breath, he replied: “It certainly sounds like a fine addition to the museums collection. I would like to take a gander at it before we present it to the committee.”
“Im sure you'll like it,” said Twilight.”
“But there’s one point I would like to ask,” said Fancy Pants; “I would like to know the name of the owner of the manuscripts, as well as the pony currently in possession of it.”
“Oh of course,” said Twilight; “My friends name is Pinkie Pie, she was with us during my brother’s wedding. As for the owner; Pinkie Pie told me her name was Diane Pie, but before that she was Diane Jekyll.”
Fancy Pants made his best effort to stifle a snicker, but the look on Twilight’s face was evidence of his failure; he was quick to apologize; “Im sorry, I didn't meant to be rude.”
Twilight sighed deeply; “Well you wouldn't be the first. Just promise me you wont laugh when Pinkie gets here. She really admires her.”
“Of course,” said Fancy Pants; “I wouldn't dare insult such a generous donation.”
