Many Faces of the Laughing Mare
Six mares debarked from the train into a warm and sunny afternoon—the usual weather in Ponyville. A dragon, three fillies, and a herd of animals had already waited for them. The two groups met, exchanged their excited greetings, and started their slow walk back to their homes.
"It was a really close shave with Miss Harshwhinny, huh, Rainbow?" Twilight broke the silence.
The pegasus, hovering above her friends along her pet tortoise, lowered her flight. "You said it. If it weren't for that farm pony she met at the spa, the Crystal Empire could kiss their chance at hosting the Equestria Games goodbye."
A pink face filled Twilight's field of view, prompting her to stop.
"Now that's what I call lucky," Pinkie chirped, hopping energetically backwards. "I mean, what are the odds of that? Like a bazillion to one, right?" She blinked expectantly at Twilight.
The unicorn rolled her eyes. "Yes, that's quite a correct approximation."
"Doesn't that take the cake?" Pinkie giggled, materializing the said piece of confectionery in her hoof, centimeters away from Twilight's face. Before the unicorn could so much as blink, the cake disappeared in Pinkie's mouth in one loud gulp.
Twilight planted her forehead in her hooves with an audible smack. "Pinkie, are cakes all you ever think about?" She let her frustration out, surprised at how irritated her voice sounded.
Pinkie blinked, her trademark smile faltering for the tiniest of moments, before it returned, brightening her face like a sun emerging from behind a cloud. "Nuh-uh. I also think of..." She extended her other hoof, revealing a couple of bonbons.
"Pinkie, I'm–" Twilight blinked. "Where did you even get them?"
The earth pony waved her hoof. "Oh, I have sweets hidden all over the place."
Twilight rubbed her head, already regretting having started this discussion. Arguing with Pinkie never made sense, but for a reason she couldn't name, this particular time her friend's shenanigans got on her nerves a notch harder than usual. "Let me guess, in case of sweet emergency?" she finally said.
The pair of innocent, almost childish blue eyes stared back at her for a moment, until Pinkie waved her hoof. "Nah, in case the cake turns out to be a lie." She waggled her brows at Twilight. At the same time, a drum and a cymbal encore reverberated in the air.
Twilight looked back at the crusaders trying various musical instruments at a nearby yard sale. She shook her head and turned back to her friend. "What... You know, I'm not even going to figure out what that meant. But would it hurt you terribly to be even slightly more serious from time to time? Even back in the Crystal Empire, all you ever thought of were cakes and jokes." Twilight advanced, letting her anger consume her. The conscious part of her mind that tried to stop her from hurting her friend's feelings, was pushed back, reduced to a tiny, easily ignored whisper. "Couldn't you have helped us look for Miss Harshwhinny with your Pinkie sense or something? Or at least do anything useful instead of stuffing your face with sweets all the time?"
Twilight stopped, noticing stifled chuckles from her friends. Her back turned at the unicorn, Pinkie gestured a yapping mouth with her hooves, with mocked disgust on her face.
The unicorn teleported between Pinkie and the rest of her friends. "I saw that." She glared the pink pony down, her eyes reduced to tiny slits.
"Saw what?" The innocence oozed from Pinkie's face like sweet molasses.
Twilight closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The seed of anger at her friend's erratic behavior, planted way back in the Crystal Empire, grew and flourished, constantly nourished by more of Pinkie's shenanigans. She exhaled, extending a hoof from her chest in a gesture taught by Cadence. She briefly wondered how she would have survived the trip if it hadn't been for that simple gesture.
"What I'm trying to say, Pinkie," she locked her eyes with her friend's, "is that maybe sometimes, like for example when we're involved in a matter of national importance, you could grow up just a little and act like a mature mare, instead of fooling around like a spoiled foal."
Pinkie's face scrunched up as she flared her nostrils defensively. Twilight could have sworn her friend's mane lost some of its usual curliness.
"But Twilight..." Pinkie muttered, her eyes pleading. "I would have to change who I am, to become who you want me to be."
"I believe some growing up would only do you good," Twilight said, looking deep into Pinkie's eyes, her face nothing but serious. "You can't act like a foal for the rest of your life."
Twilight winced, both surprised by how harsh her voice had sounded, and by her friend's reaction to her last remark. Pinkie took a step back, her blurred eyes looking at Twilight like a wounded animal on the predator that was about to attack it. She opened her quivering mouth, but no sound came out. She swallowed and tried again, with the same result. Finally, she dropped her head, her ears pressed tightly against it, took Gummy by its tail, and galloped off into the town, her ironed-out tail waving behind her.
Twilight lowered the hoof she realised she had raised, probably in a mute attempt to stop Pinkie. Only now did she notice the awful silence, creeping out from every nook and cranny, covering everything around her in a soundless veil. She turned her head, seeking understanding in her friends' eyes, but before she could as much as blink, an iron hoof shoved her against the wall of a nearby shop.
"What the hay did you say that for?" Rainbow shouted straight into her face, her nostrils flaring aggressively.
Her eyes widened with bewilderment, it took a moment for Twilight to collect and defend herself. She forced the pegasus' hoof down. "What's wrong with you, Rainbow?" She clashed her snout against the pegasus', withstanding the daggers the pink eyes looked at her. "For that matter, I believe what I said was true. She really could stand growing up."
Rainbow punched her hoof against the wall, missing Twilight's face by a hair's breadth. "No, Twilight, she couldn't. And if you knew her any better, you would know exactly why. And how fragile she is!"
Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but the pegasus had already been away, a rainbow trail slowly disappearing behind her.
The unicorn turned around, noticing equally surprised expressions on her friends' faces. "What was that all about?"
Confused silence was the only response she received.
***
Twilight paced nervously around the entrance to the Sugarcube Corner. The usual morning line, she had hoped would give her time to take a calming breath before confronting Pinkie, hadn't formed yet. She looked at the clock tower and let out a sigh. It was much earlier than she anticipated. She replayed her yesterday's outburst in her mind. Was what she had said wrong? She still wasn't quite sure, but she had decided to apologize nonetheless, if only to satisfy her guilt and heal the atmosphere between her and Pinkie. She did another round in front of the stairs, revising a couple of scenarios the conversation could take. She drew a sigh, shaking her head as she realized that no amount of planning would ever prepare her for Pinkie's randomness. She did another round in front of the entrance, took a deep breath, and trotted inside.
Ms. Cake's polite smile greeted her from behind the counter. "Hello, dearie. What can I get you?"
Twilight reciprocated the smile. "Thank you, missus Cake, but I'm not here for sweets. I was hoping I could talk to Pinkie for a moment."
The baker's expression dropped ever so slightly. "I'm sorry, but she's out."
Twilight raised her eyebrow. "Really?" she asked, mentally smacking herself in her cheek when she realized how rude it had sounded. "I mean..." she hurried before the other mare could react. "I'm sorry, it's just that I had a little, um, argument with Pinkie yesterday, and I truly want to apologize." She turned towards the door. "But I will understand if she doesn't want to see me.
Ms. Cake rubbed her chin. "So that's why she was so down in the dumps when she got back with Rainbow..." She offered an apologetic smile. "It's not like I'm hiding her from you or anything... Pinkie is simply doing her morning errands."
A meaningful cough from behind Twilight broke their conversation. Both mares looked behind the unicorn, on a line of ponies waiting to get their morning snacks, their impatience clearly displayed on their faces.
"Oh, um..." Twilight stepped aside. "I think it would be best if I left you to your customers. Thank you, missus Cake."
The baker nodded. "Any time, dearie."
Twilight left the Sugarcube corner, letting out a terribly unfulfilled sigh. She squatted on a nearby bench, contemplating on what to do next. Waiting for Pinkie Pie was out of the question, as she had no idea when her friend would finish her errands. Searching for Pinkie would most likely prove to be an even bigger waste of time. She dropped her head with a heavy groan. She was reluctant to leave the matter hanging, if only because of the guilt that tormented her throughout the night.
"All right, team!" A familiar voice pierced through her thoughts, breaking her apathetic stupor. She looked up. Sure enough, a familiar blue figure rounded several pegasi on a cloud above.
"Flitter, you take care of mist forming over the Whitetail Woods. Cloud Kicker, you kick those clouds from over the square. Bulk, Sweet Apple Acres are falling behind with water supply. Get them some rain."
"YEAH!" The white hunk of pegasus replied eloquently.
"We're meeting here after lunch."
Twilight waited for the flock of pegasi to disappear behind the clouds, cleared her throat, and called her friend.
Rainbow looked down and descended slowly from her cloud.
"Hey there, Twi." She rubbed the back of her head, her eyes diligently avoiding the unicorn's face. "Listen, about yesterday–"
"I'm sorry, Rainbow," Twilight interjected, her cheeks blushing with embarrassment. "I shouldn't have criticized Pinkie's behavior like that."
"Heh, I should be the sorry one." Rainbow offered an apologetic smile. "For blowing up like that and pushing you." She offered a hoof. "Still friends?"
Twilight bumped the hoof with her own. "Still friends."
The faint smile on the pegasus' face brightened considerably. She gave a vigorous nod and flexed her wings, her eyes looking longingly at the sky above her.
"Um..." Twilight began. Rainbow folded her wings and turned back to face her. "Look, do you know where I could find Pinkie at this hour? I really wanted to apologize to her as well."
Rainbow's expression dropped as she pawed the ground with her hoof. "Can't you wait till evening? Pinkie's probably doing her morning rounds now."
"That's the same thing missus Cake said. Just what are her chores? There's not much work in the library, maybe I could help her?"
"No!" Realizing she was a bit too fast to answer, Rainbow looked at her hooves. "I mean, you couldn't help her." She fidgeted under Twilight's confused glare. "I mean, she doesn't need help." The pegasus began sweating, her expression only making Twilight's confusion greater. She flared her wings. "Look, I've got jobs to do, places to be! Gotta go, bye!" She started off, but was stopped in the air by a gentle telekinetic tug at her tail. Realizing she won't get away that easily, Rainbow reluctantly turned around.
Twilight met the pegasus' wary glare with a delicate warm smile. "Rainbow, just what are Pinkie's morning rounds? Does it have anything to do with what you said yesterday? That she can't grow up?"
Rainbow bit her lips, her eyes looking anywhere but at Twilight's face.
"I really do want to learn about Pinkie," Twilight continued, "if only so I don't hurt her feelings again." She put her hoof on the pegasus' shoulder. "Please, can't you tell me the truth?"
Rainbow closed her eyes, her breath hastening. With each gulp of air she swallowed, her brows became more and more furrowed. Suddenly, she let out a cry and bucked her hoof hard against the ground, making Twilight take a surprised step back.
"Do you have any idea," she forced out between pants, "how hard is it for the element of loyalty to choose who to be loyal to? Pinkie asked me not to tell anypony anything about it."
"And losing a friend's trust is the fastest way to lose a friend." Twilight recalled the lesson Pinkie had given her what seemed like a few lifetimes ago. She dropped her ears. "I understand. I won't pry further."
Rainbow bit her lip, her eyes focused on the cobble path beneath her hooves.
Twilight turned around. "I think I will just visit Pinkie in the evening, then."
Before she could walk away more than a few steps, Rainbow stopped her with a clear and decided "Wait!"
The pegasus hovered in front of Twilight, her serious eyes locked with the unicorn's. "Are you busy? Like, right now?"
"No," Twilight answered without hesitation. "Why?"
"I will show you." Rainbow pursed her lips in a thin line. "It's the only way you could hope to understand Pinks."
***
"How much farther are we going to run?" Twilight panted, galloping behind Rainbow who glided effortlessly in the air.
"We're almost there."
Twilight followed the pegasus' extended hoof with her eyes. "But... That's the hospital. Do you mean to tell me Pinkie's ill?"
Rainbow chuckled, landing beside the unicorn, keeping up with Twilight's mad gallop with her relaxed run. "Nah. I don't think she's ever even been sick."
"Then why–" The rest of Twilight's query was shoved back into her throat along a blue hoof.
"Shh!" Rainbow whispered. "Wait here."
Twilight was all too happy to comply, thankful for a break to catch her breath. She observed the pegasus circling around the hospital, taking cautious glances into each window. Finally, Rainbow decided to fly down.
"You're lucky. They're on the ground floor." She lowered her voice to a conspirational whisper. "Now, duck and crouch behind me. And remember—Pinkie mustn't see us."
"Why?" Twilight protested. "Just what is going on?"
Rainbow blocked her mouth with a hoof and shushed. Twilight rolled her eyes, but followed her crouching friend to the hospital wall. The pegasus pointed at the window, which Twilight promptly looked through. She had to block her mouth with a hoof to stifle a loud gasp that threatened to come out. She ducked under the windowsill, hoping that nopony in the room saw her. She waited a few seconds and raised her head once more.
The room was filled to the brim with fillies and colts of different ages and races, sharing but one common trait—each and every one of them fought a valiant battle against their disability or illness. Some were bound to their beds, drip stands never leaving their sides; others rolled in on their wheelchairs, their limbs cast in plaster; others—lucky enough to be able to move on their own—squatted or stood spread throughout the room. There was one other thing everypony in the room shared—a bright and genuine smile Pinkie's performance had brought to their faces.
The room burst with laughter, clearly audible even from behind the glass Twilight and Rainbow watched through. On top of a makeshift stage, Pinkie plastered a pig snout on her nose, wiggling back and forth on her tail.
Twilight watched the spectacle, mesmerized by her friend's performance and the foals' reaction to it. She looked around the room, noticing doctor Stable and nurse Redheart stifling their giggles in the door.
"She comes here every single day." Rainbow's raspy voice broke her concentration.
Twilight slowly turned her head around. "How long ago did you learn about this?"
"Remember when I broke my wing and was grounded here for a week?"
Twilight nodded.
"Well, at that time I was obviously too lost in that book you gave me." Rainbow scratched the back of her head, a tiny blush painting her cheeks red. "But a few days later I was clearing the sky over here, when I heard a burst of laughter. It seemed weird, hearing it from the hospital, right? So I took a peek inside and saw pretty much this." Her hoof pointed at the glass they were peeking through. "So I watched, dumbstruck, as she brightened the life of those poor foals, her performance bringing genuine smiles on their little muzzles. I wanted to talk with her, of course, but she– Look!"
Twilight's eyes followed Rainbow's hoof inside the room, where the atmosphere had changed considerably. The laughs were slowly dying, as it became pretty obvious that Pinkie's performance came to its end. Fillies and colts pleaded and begged Pinkie for an encore, while her eyes kept darting between a clock hung on a wall and her audience.
Finally, she sighed, and motioned the foals to gather around her, her radiant smile transforming into an apologetic one. Standing on her rear legs, Pinkie raised a hoof to the ceiling in a dramatic gesture. She seemed to be chanting, or maybe singing, Twilight couldn't tell from behind the closed window. Then her hoof fell down, dropping what looked like a small ball on the floor. Pink smoke filled the room, making the foals scatter in surprise. It dissipated quickly, however, revealing a glaring lack of Pinkie Pie. Where she stood moments before, a tray full of cupcakes was left on the floor, decorated with a small card depicting a smiling pink pony. Smiles on the foals' faces returned instantly, as they jumped forward, ready to raid the unexpected bounty. Fortunately, nurse Redheart stepped in to help with equal distribution of loot.
"Every time she thinks of a new trick," Rainbow chuckled, her snout glued to the glass.
Twilight looked at Dr. Stable, who shook his head disapprovingly—albeit not without a sincere smile—in the direction of the door. Pinkie offered him a sheepish smile, stuck her tongue out, and galloped off.
The hospital entrance burst open with a bang as the pink rocket blasted through, leaving an equally pink trail behind her. Her mouth agape, Twilight watched the pink blur until it disappeared behind a hill.
"She's unbelievably fast for an earth pony," Rainbow remarked. "Can you believe even I couldn't escape her that one time when–"
"Wait a moment," Twilight interjected and entered the hospital.
"What was that all about?" Rainbow asked as the unicorn emerged from behind the door several minutes later. Before Twilight could respond, however, she waved her hoof dismissively. "Never mind. C'mon. We have to hurry back." She flapped her wings, hovering above the unicorn.
"What? Why?"
"You think her chores are over? You've seen nothing yet."
Rainbow motioned to follow her, and was off in a multicolor flash. Twilight pursed her lips and galloped behind.
***
After what seemed like miles, Rainbow finally lowered her flight, the panting unicorn teleporting behind her.
"We're at school," Twilight announced, once the universe had stopped spinning around her.
"You don't say, Sheerclop Hooves," the pegasus chuckled, pricking up her ears like she was trying to discern a particular sound. "Aha! This way."
As she rounded the building, a cacophony of sounds hit Twilight's ears. "What in Equestria?" she squinted, covering her ears. "Aren't schools supposed to be quiet? Like in the library, you need to maintain silence in order to reach the level of concentration–"
A hoof in her mouth stopped her further complaints.
"Sheesh, you could stand pulling the stick out of your tailhole sometimes, ya know?" Rainbow said, shaking her head.
Twilight blinked. "I beg your–"
"Never mind about that," Rainbow interjected, pointing her hoof at the classroom.
Twilight rubbed her horn with a groan, but ultimately looked inside. It took her a while to convince herself that she was, in fact, witnessing a lesson.
Every filly and every colt in the classroom was equipped with a musical instrument. Braving the noise with her trademark smile, Pinkie hopped between the foals, while Miss Cheerilee sat at her desk, her hooves clamped tightly against her ears. Occasionally, Pinkie trotted to a student, pointed at the music sheet that lay on their desk, grabbed the same instrument they were playing from behind her mane, and played the specific tune.
Confident in her knowledge of the music theory, Twilight tried to count and name the instruments the foals were playing. However, after counting several various cellos, basses, flutes, drums, triangles, harps, and lyres, and one balalaika, she gave up. She pointed at the classroom, where Pinkie restlessly hopped between the rows of desks in her noble quest to discern any false notes in the overwhelming cacophony and offer a helping hoof. "What, pray tell, am I watching?"
"Behold, one of Pinkie's famous music lessons." Rainbow chuckled.
"Lessons?" Twilight's eyes narrowed dangerously. "How can this... this unorganized talent show be called a lesson? And, for that matter, how can this noise be called music?"
Rainbow shrugged. "Hay, I dunno. Music has never really been my forte. Unlike Pinkie's." She patted the wall. "That filly can play, like, any musical instrument you can name. And most of those you can't. And look –" she pointed at the classroom "– it seems like, despite all the noise, she can hear when the foals play their parts wrong."
Both mares listened in silence for a while.
Inside the classroom, Pinkie leaned over Silver Spoon, pointing at the filly's note sheet. Then, she hopped over to Featherweight, who apparently held his flute wrongly. No matter how much Twilight tried to focus her hearing on one particular instrument, she couldn't discern any particular tune over the terrible mash of sounds coming from the classroom.
"The way I heard it," Rainbow muttered, her eyes transfixed on her pink friend, "Cheerilee had real trouble finding a suitable tutor. Octavia wasn't up to the challenge, she'd rather not have her students follow Vinyl's lifestyle of a DJ, and nopony has ever seen Lyra playing her lyre. Some say it's enchanted with dark magic or something." She shrugged. "Well, as the urban legend goes, Cheerilee had lost all her hopes on finding a music teacher, when one day Pinkie simply barged into the school with a wagon full of various instruments, turning the classes into a wild, loud party. Typical Pinkie style." The pegasus chuckled. "You'd have to ask Cheerilee for the details, but it seems the foals like her way of teaching."
Rainbow and Twilight watched the spectacle for several more minutes, when the classroom got noticeably quieter. Cheerilee unclogged her ears with a sigh of relief, as Pinkie produced a tray of sweets from her wagon parked outside the school.
Every student waited anxiously for their tutor's verdict as Pinkie scrunched her face in deep thought. After a moment of hesitation, her face brightened with a radiant smile, and she trotted to a purple unicorn filly with a blond mane, a delicious cupcake held in her hooves.
Some of the foals sighed, others waved their dismissive hooves, displaying their disappointment with the judge's decision, but they soon forgot it, when Pinkie passed the consolation prizes, in the forms of crunchy bonbons, around the classroom.
"That's Derpy's daughter, right?" Twilight asked, observing the unicorn filly happily munching on her cupcake.
Rainbow nodded. "Yup. Pinkie says she's amazing with a flute. She once mentioned she would be surprised if it didn't appear on her flank one day."
"I wonder how she can even tell who plays how in that ruckus." Twilight rubbed her forehead.
Rainbow flapped her wings impatiently. "Hay if I know. But every time I saw one of Pinkie's lessons, Dinky was the filly to get the cupcake. I guess– Duck!" Rainbow gasped, shoving Twilight into the bushes and following herself.
A pink flash rocketed out of the building, her wagon rattling and clanging behind her. Moments later, the noise ceased as the pink pony disappeared in the town.
Twilight welcomed the silence with a sigh of relief, though it was rather short-lived as it was quickly interrupted by Rainbow.
The pegasus crept out of the bush and helped Twilight out. "Ready for another dash?" She flexed her wings.
"One of you is quite enough, thank you," the unicorn chuckled, unable to stop herself from making the terrible joke. Before Rainbow could comment on it, though, the unicorn had disappeared inside the school.
"Hardy har har, miss smartflanks," Rainbow muttered, an embarrassed smile slowly creeping on her face. She had walked right into it, hadn't she?
***
Twilight sighed from behind her binoculars. She turned to her friend, her face nothing but disapproving. "Aren't we taking this spying thing too far?"
"Oh, puh-lease!" Rainbow waved her hoof. "Quills and Sofas' rooftop is the best vantage point. Well, second only to a cumulus placed carefully just a few meters higher. But that's for pegasi only." She winked, flapping her wings.
Twilight's hoof met her forehead with an audible smack. She took a calming breath, looking back through the binoculars. "What is she doing?"
Rainbow shrugged. "Dunno. You're the one with the binocs."
Twilight's eye twitched ominously as a purple glow shoved the binoculars before the pegasus' eyes.
"She's baking doughnuts," Rainbow announced in a proud voice.
Twilight opened her mouth, staring silently at her friend. She shook her head to clear her mind, and jabbed Rainbow's chest with a hoof. "How do you know? It's all a pink blur to me."
Rainbow waved her hoof. "Come on, it's Thursday. Look!"
Before Twilight could turn her head, a pink comet blasted out of the bakery and down the street. A cloud of dust settled behind the pink pony, leaving a strong fragrance of freshly baked doughnuts in the air.
Twilight's stomach picked just this moment to protest with a loud rumble.
"There's no time," Rainbow said before the unicorn could so much as open her mouth. "Let's go!"
She flew down, following the doughnut trace. Twilight sighed, teleported from the roof, and followed.
***
Rainbow stopped before a building on the other side of the town.
Twilight stumbled into the bushes, her legs burning as much as her throat. She took a few painful moments to clear her head of colorful shapes that danced before her eyes. She was sure she had run longer in this single day than in the rest of her life combined.
When she was finally able to move her head without sending the universe into a mad spin, she looked up. "But... That's the orphanage."
Once again, Rainbow shushed the unicorn, pointing at one of the windows. Twilight obediently looked inside.
A small group of young colts and fillies was gathered in the room. There was no performance this time. Instead, the group seemed to be playing various games, with Pinkie acting as the score keeper and the animator. A batch of fresh doughnuts was piled on a tray on a small table in the corner of the room.
Pinkie Pie motioned at some of the foals, gathering them in a conspirational circle. Hushed whispers were exchanged with obligatory cautious glances around, and Pinkie motioned at the mare standing in the door, her smile wider than it was physically possible.
Miss Whiteheart, Twilight recognized, was instantly swarmed with foals, who surrounded her like a miniature tsunami, and led her to join the game. After Pinkie explained the rules, the group divided in two and the contest resumed.
Twilight took a look around the room, gasping in surprise as she noticed a familiar figure. "Hey, isn't that–"
Twilight's hoof, pointing accusatively at the filly, was forced to the ground. Her head spun as she was grabbed by a pair of strong hooves and turned around.
Rainbow glared daggers at her, her eyes reduced to tiny slits. "Twilight Sparkle, if you ever tell anypony about it, I swear by all the stars in Princess Luna's mane that I will personally break off your horn."
Twilight backed away, shocked by her friend's violent reaction. She was certain Rainbow would never actually commit such a cruel deed, but such a vivid threat could only be a proof of how much her friend cared for the filly. Twilight rubbed her horn, as if to ascertain it was still attached to her head. She gulped and nodded, causing Rainbow's expression to soften.
"Look, I'm sorry," the pegasus muttered, freeing Twilight's shoulders, her eyes focused on her hooves. "She's just very sensitive about it, y'know?"
Twilight narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Is she afraid her friends would be ashamed of her if they knew?" This, she couldn't believe. "They make such a close-knit group together, searching for their marks and all."
Rainbow shook her head. "Nah, they never would, and I'm sure she knows that. But not everypony is as understanding and forgiving as her teammates." She sighed, her unfocused eyes looking at the distant sky. "A young filly's life can be pretty harsh."
Twilight could only take Rainbow's word for it, what with her brother being her only friend throughout her entire foalhood.
Leaving Rainbow to her own musings, Twilight looked into the room again. The game had already finished, leaving both victors and losers to swarm around the table, devouring the freshly baked doughnuts like a flock of hungry griffins.
Pinkie waved her goodbyes to the foals, exchanged polite nods with Ms. Whiteheart, and turned to leave. Twilight and Rainbow ducked behind the bush, letting the pink pony pass without noticing them.
"Is she going to run off in a hurry again?" Twilight whispered.
"Doesn't look like it."
Twilight emerged from their hiding place and entered the orphanage, motioning to Ms. Whiteheart. The two mares began their conversation, while Rainbow took a peek inside. Locating Scootaloo in the crowd of foals wasn't difficult—not with a trained eye. The filly swallowed her doughnut, a bright smile on her face igniting a flame of warmth inside Rainbow's heart.
A glint of purple in the corner of her eye prompted Rainbow to turn her head.
"Shall we go?" Twilight asked.
Rainbow nodded.
***
The two ponies walked down the road to Ponyville, keeping at a safe distance from Pinkie. The sun was slowly lowering behind them, basking the town in a blanket of golden rays.
"Is her every day like this?" Twilight asked, biting her tongue to omit the word 'crazy' as she followed the pink dot with her eyes.
"Hey, it's not like I'm stalking her all the time." Rainbow mocked an offended pout. "She does take a break from time to time, though. To play some pranks, throw a party, welcome new ponies in town, stuff like that..." Rainbow counted. "And when she feels somepony is sad."
Twilight raised her eyebrow. "How can she know that?"
Rainbow shrugged. "Beats me. But it works, I've seen it once or twice. She says it's her Pinkie sense."
The mares stopped, noticing that their friend had done the same, a wild case of shivers rocking her body up and down. After it was over, Pinkie looked up, then down, then under her tail, and finally around her. She then trotted to a small group of trees near the road.
Squinting her eyes, Twilight noticed a smaller pony curled under one of the trees. Pinkie trotted to the filly and placed a calming hoof at her back. The foal turned around, cleared her eyes, and pointed at the crown of the tree.
Pinkie brushed her chin for a moment and exploded in a wide grin. She rummaged in a nearby bush from which she pulled her party cannon. The foal stopped her sobbing, her mouth agape at the pink mare and her crazy contraption. Pinkie threw a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of her head. Her hoof supporting her chin, she then sat on a nearby rock, deep in thought, reminding Twilight of the famous Thinking Pony sculpture.
Pinkie's face lit again with a smile that seemed to produce its own light. She jumped off the rock, tinkered with her canon, and pushed its trigger. Instead of spitting confetti with the usual loud bang, it vomited several balloons with but a quiet pop. Pinkie grabbed their strings before they could fly away, pulled a basket out of her mane, and tied everything together into a floating platform.
The filly wiped her eyes, a wide smile spreading slowly across her snout, as Pinkie presented the platform to her. She climbed inside, and the pink pony let the balloons go. The platform rose to the treetop, where the filly took hold of a trembling orange ball. She gave down a signal, letting Pinkie pull her back with her cargo. Once on the ground, the filly tackled the mare in a wild hug, her rowdy kitten hissing at his mistress' new friend. Then they trotted to the town, Pinkie waving at them until they disappeared behind a building.
"It's just like she somehow senses when foals need her help," Rainbow said, looking into Twilight's eyes. "Adults can handle themselves, y'know? But foals are often left on their own, until somepony lends them a hoof. That's why–"
Twilight put a hoof on her friend's shoulder. "Say no more, Rainbow," she muttered, her eyes glistening in the setting sun as they followed Pinkie back to town. "I know just what to do." She turned to the pegasus, her face full of determination. "Will you help me?"
Rainbow offered a confident smile. "Sure! What'cha need?"
Many Faces of the Laughing Mare
Ask, and It Shall Be given You
"I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your, uhm, horses," Pinkie chirped, giggling at her unintended pun. "We were about to open anyways." She pushed the door to the Sugarcube Corner open.
There was nopony outside.
Pinkie scratched the back of her head as she looked left and right, squinting hard at the completely ponyless street. She shrugged, already turning back towards the shop, when she caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar object on the stairs. She swiped the decorated envelope from the ground, tore it open with an expert flick of her muzzle, and pulled a card from the inside.
You are cordially invited to the Golden Oak Library, this evening, as soon as you finish your daily chores.
Twilight Sparkle.
Pinkie squinted at the card, deciphering the words. "Cor-dial-ly... Cordial-ly... Corrrr-dial-ly..." she tasted the word, rolling it off her tongue like a sour candy. "You're a funny word," she giggled, winking at the card. She then shook her head, a sympathetic smile forming on her face. "I really need to teach Twilight how to write invitations." She sighed, giggled, and hopped back inside.
Rainbow chewed her hoof in a desperate attempt to stifle a burst of laughs that rocked her entire body. Once Pinkie had disappeared back inside, she fell on the ground, letting out the cumulated guffaws all at once.
"Yeah," she managed between the giggles. "She could really teach you a thing or two."
"Hardy har har," Twilight muttered, her cheeks burning like two candles under her coat. "More importantly, do you think she'll come?"
"I'm sure she will. Just wait and see." Rainbow hopped back on her hooves. She shook the dust off her coat, already stretching her wings. A moment later, she was already hovering beside the unicorn. "Got some weather to attend to. Afternoon?" She extended her hoof.
"See you this afternoon, Rainbow." Twilight bumped the hoof with her own. "And thanks."
The pegasus grinned, waved, and disappeared between the clouds, leaving a rainbow-colored trail behind her.
***
Pinkie Pie hopped down the road, her puffy mane bouncing to the rhythm of her skips. The sun had set over an hour ago, leaving Ponyville in the cold embrace of Luna's moonlight. The library—dark and quiet in the early night—towered above the town like a silent sentinel.
Pinkie hopped to the door and knocked twice.
Silence perfect enough to hear ringing in her ears was Pinkie's only answer.
Her bright smile never faltering from her face, she knocked three times.
Even more silence answered.
Pinkie stretched her hooves, replicating a gesture of a piano player before a concert. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her hooves hang above the wooden surface. Her eyes snapped open as her legs fell down, assaulting the door with a set of bangs, knocks, and taps, drumming an up-beat tune on the hard wood. The impromptu concert ended as abruptly as it had begun, and she froze in place, finishing her performance with a deep bow. She pricked her ears, trying to confirm whether a stifled giggle she could have sworn she had heard had come from the inside, but the library remained as quiet as the grave.
After a moment of hesitation, Pinkie pushed the door open. "Twilight?" she called into the darkness. As nopony answered, she shrugged at the empty room and hesitantly bounced inside.
The door closed behind her on its own, shaking the library with a loud bang. Before Pinkie could so much as flinch, she was blinded by the bright light that illuminated the room.
"SURPRISE!" many voices roared, their cry loud enough to drown the explosion of party crackers that spit confetti in Pinkie's face.
Pinkie rubbed her eyes and then her ears. As her sight and hearing slowly returned, she distinguished a set of familiar pony silhouettes around her.
"Do you think we overdid it?" a voice that Pinkie recognized as Fluttershy's asked quietly.
"We might have, just a notch," Rarity answered.
Pinkie stood frozen on her spot, oblivious to her friends, inspecting the room with her discerning eye.
The library was decorated for a party, that much was obvious. Pink streamers fell from the ceiling to the floor, zigzagging between the colorful balloons that floated all around the room. Bookshelves were moved against the walls, making room for the tiny dance floor. A large table filled with different kind of snacks and beverages—stacked in neat piles, no doubt courtesy of Twilight—stood next to the stairs.
Pinkie raised her head. Above the stairs leading to the unicorn's bedroom, a banner was hung. Next to a pink face, overlooking the room with a bright smile, the letters formed the sentence: "Stay your hyper self forever, Pinkie Pie PA".
Once the confetti had settled on the floor, Pinkie raised her hoof, pointing at the banner. "Pa?" she asked nopony in particular.
Rainbow wrapped her leg around Pinkie, trying to stifle her giggles with a hoof. "It was meant to read PARTY, but in the end, Twilight couldn't fit it all in," she finally managed. She then broke into an infectious guffaw, which Pinkie immediately caught. Both ponies fell on the floor, wiggling their legs as they laughed their heads off.
Rainbow finally pulled herself up, wiping a tear from her eye. "See, Twilight? I told you she would notice."
Twilight couldn't care less about a stupid banner. Upon seeing Pinkie, her rude behavior from two days ago inflated her guilt to a point it physically hurt. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. As the pink pony stood before her motionless, waiting, her mind replayed all the conversations she had about her yesterday.
***
"Nurse Redheart, do you have a minute?" Twilight asked when the mare had finally left the room Pinkie's performance had taken place in.
The nurse corrected the cap on her head. "Miss Sparkle? Of course. Do you need medical attention?"
"I'm fine." Twilight offered a polite smile. "I just wanted to ask you about Pinkie."
"She's such a dear, isn't she?" The nurse smiled back. "The foals just love her and her wacky antics. Although, the hospital dietician threatens to quit his job if she stuffs the little ones with more sweets," she added with a chuckle.
"I'll bet," Twilight giggled. "Could you tell me how often Pinkie visits the foals?" she said, her smile slowly giving way to a more serious expression.
"Why, nearly every day." The nurse turned back towards the room, the warm smile on her face only growing. "And every time she does, this place livens up. I can't overvalue the positive effects her visits have on Dr. Stable's patients. I swear, those foals patch up twice as quick as when she wasn't visiting." Nurse Redheart turned back to Twilight, her eyes widening. "Please, don't tell me she's going to stop her visits." She grabbed Twilight's shoulders. "The foals would be devastated. I asked her many times whether she was interested in receiving any gratification for her brilliant work, but she always declined. Let me go speak with Dr. Stable. I'm sure he would agree to employ her on a more permanent basis, if only she agreed."
"Nurse Redheart!" Twilight shook the mare's hoof, grabbing her attention. "You don't have to worry," she said with a gentle, calming smile. "Pinkie isn't going to stop her visits anytime soon. Or at least, I don't know anything about it."
"Oh, bless her joyous heart." The nurse exhaled her worries in a long sigh of relief. "You had me really worried for a moment, Miss Sparkle. " Her eyes narrowed slightly. "But if that's not what you wanted to discuss, how else can I help you?"
"You already told me everything I wanted to know." Twilight smiled, looking back into the room the performance had taken place in. "But... Why do you think foals like her this much?"
"I thought this much would be obvious." The nurse chuckled. "Just look at them." She waved her hoof around the room. "She brings smiles to their faces, which last long after she's left. But you know" – the nurse winked conspirationally at the unicorn – "no longer than two days ago, I asked Mad Dasher– And I swear, that filly lives up to her name! She's going to end up with a cast or a band-aid for her cutie mark at this rate!" She sighed. "Anyway, I asked her the very question. And you know what she told me?"
Twilight shook her head.
"Because, and I quote, because Miss Pie is just like us."
Twilight's eyes widened.
"The foals love her random, sometimes wacky, and—above everything else—always happy personality, because she acts just like them," the nurse continued. "I don't know her secret, but she doesn't seem to be weighed down by the burdens of an average grown-up pony."
Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
The nurse put a hoof on the unicorn's shoulder, looking straight into her eyes. "Every time she leaves, I fear that's the last time we've seen of her. I know it is incredibly selfish of me, but sometimes I catch myself praying to Celestia that Pinkie would never grow up... At least, for as long as she can afford to stay a foal inside."
***
Twilight blinked away the stinging in her eyes as she forced her numb body to move. She must have looked grotesque, she realized, like a puppet on strings led by an unskilled puppet master.
***
"Cheerilee... Do you have a minute?" Twilight asked from the classroom door.
The teacher looked up from her desk. "Twilight Sparkle. What a lovely surprise." She glanced at the clock hanged on the wall behind her. "Sure, it's almost recess time anyway. Class dismissed."
Her long-awaited announcement rang in the room, giving Twilight just enough time to evacuate from the door. The unicorn waited patiently as the wave of fillies and colts poured from the room like a miniature tsunami, and cautiously approached the teacher's desk.
"You should drop by more often, preferably during class." Cheerilee gave Twilight a wink. "I'm sure history lessons with the town's librarian would be greeted with as much enthusiasm as music lessons with the town's party planner."
Twilight chuckled, imagining herself giving a long and boring lecture to the snoring foals. "Oh, I highly doubt that. I have next to no experience with foals... But even I could notice how much they enjoyed the lesson."
Cheerilee nodded, gazing at the classroom with her eyes half-closed. "Yes..." She sighed. "You know, it's nearly impossible for me to get as much attention from my pupils as they give Pinkie voluntarily. I sometimes wonder whether I should be jealous or proud of her." She chuckled.
Twilight cleared her throat delicately. "I actually wanted to talk about that, if you can spare a minute."
Cheerilee offered Twilight a chair.
"How often does she conduct her lessons?" Twilight asked, taking a seat before the teacher's desk.
"Nearly every day." Cheerilee drew a long sigh. "I would gladly employ her as a full-time music teacher... Both to compensate her for the time she spends here, and to be sure that she can visit us every day. I asked her about it several times, but she always refuses." The teacher ran a hoof through her mane. "I'm not sure if you agree, but I always believed that studying creative arts—be it music, painting, or hooficraft—is as important as learning language, maths, geography, or history. It may not provide the students with the same volume of knowledge, but it teaches them creativity and helps them develop their young minds."
Twilight nodded politely. Musical education has never been her area of interests, but she vaguely remembered an essay that discussed its positive value on young ponies.
"And, since I'm not musically educated or talented myself," Cheerilee continued, "I've been trying to find a suitable tutor for quite a while. I wouldn't count on the help of a music maestro the level of Octavia, but local musicians proved to be of little help." Cheerilee sighed, burying her face in her hooves. "Blues wasn't able to entertain the foals with his sappy jazz, and Miss Heartstrings... Well, let's just say that studying music theory is definitely a wrong way to persuade a young pony to play some instruments. Besides –" she stifled a chuckle with her hoof "– a lyre is a good music choice only when it's embroiled on your flank. But don't let her know I said that," she added with a wink.
Twilight chuckled, giving the teacher a nod. "I won't breathe a word. So... How did Pinkie apply for the job?"
Cheerilee's unsuppressed laughter caught Twilight by surprise.
"You wouldn't believe it." The teacher rubbed her forehead. "So, I'm having a boring lesson, trying to teach my pupils to read music notes, when all of a sudden the whole building is assaulted with a deafening cacophony of various sounds. What the hay? I think, wondering whether a full marching band decided to camp outside. I peek through the door, the kids slowly recovering from the lethargy my lesson put them to, and a trumpet blows right in my face! I stagger to a wall, terrified that the ringing in my ears won't ever pass, while Pinkie bursts into the classroom, playing a dozen instruments all at once. Then she just dumps them all on the floor and announces, with the widest smile I've ever seen, that she has come to give music lessons."
Twilight offered an understanding nod. She could very well imagine Pinkie doing something like this.
"By the time I gathered myself from the floor," Cheerilee continued, "she had already rolled another wagon of musical instruments to join the pile." The teacher shrugged. "I decided to give the whole gig a try, if only to see how interested she could keep the class. Besides, if she knew how to play all those different instruments, she had to have some musical knowledge, right?"
Twilight rubbed her horn. She had witnessed Pinkie playing a one-pony-band set two times so far—during the parasprite invasion and during Trixie's last visit to Ponyville—and it had rendered her speechless on both occasions.
"Then, Pinkie asked the students to listen to every instrument she had, and pick their personal favorite. I swear, it looked like a talent show and the foals were the judges." Cheerilee looked straight into Twilight's eyes. "I'm no musical expert, Twilight, but I can tell when a pony sings out of tune. But Pinkie... She played the exact... same... tune" – she punctuated each word with a tap of her hoof against the desk – "perfectly on every instrument she had brought. I have never seen anypony as versatile as her, before or since.
"I was so engrossed with the absurdity of having a talent show during my class, that I looked at the clock only after each student had picked their instrument. You may believe me or not, but when I did, it was already a quarter past the recess. And none of the foals even noticed. Then, Pinkie simply left the instruments to the students, announcing she would teach the foals how to play music from the next day on, dumped the rest into her wagon, and rocketed away, faster than a pegasus with their tail on fire."
Twilight couldn't help but chuckle. "Typical Pinkie Pie."
Cheerilee agreed with a nod.
"So, is she any good as a teacher?" the unicorn asked.
Cheerilee blew a raspberry. "Is she? She taught the foals to read notes on the very next day, using some crafty analogies and making a competition of the whole thing. Every lesson with her is like a game, where the winner can count on a sweet reward. Not many foals have any chance with Dinkie, though. She seems to be a natural with a flute."
Twilight scrunched her muzzle. "Pinkie's lessons don't seem to have much in common with any usual way of teaching music that I know of."
"I agree." Cheerilee drew a sigh. "But may Celestia scorch me with her sun if they don't give the best results. The students are really progressing with their instruments, Twilight. Of course, they make mistakes and play some false notes, but Pinkie is always there to lend a helping hoof. I have no idea how she can distinguish a single false note in all that overwhelming noise, but maybe it's some sort of complicated melody for her?" Cheerilee shrugged. "Suffice it to say, that since she started visiting us, music has become my students' favorite lesson. The foals simply adore Pinkie."
Twilight narrowed her eyes. "Why do you think they do?"
Cheerilee looked through the window, her gaze half-focused, perhaps drifting to a time she was a student herself. "If I had to take a guess, I would think it's because of how easily she can connect with foals. I swear, she sometimes acts like a filly trapped in a grown mare's body. Look –" Cheerilee touched Twilight hoof with her own "– I know it's terribly selfish, but I sometimes catch myself hoping she would keep this attitude. For the sake of all the foals she makes happy in the process."
***
Twilight stopped in front of Pinkie, uncertain of what she should do next. The pink pony turned her head curiously, producing a wary smile. Twilight closed her eyes, and drew a deep sigh.
***
"Miss Sparkle? How may I be of help?" Miss Whiteheart greeted her guest. "I hope none of my books are overdue."
"Shh!" Twilight whispered. "I don't want anypony to notice me." Her horn lit aglow, gently closing the door to the caretaker's office. "Your books are fine."
"Why the secrecy, then?" Miss Whiteheart rested her head on her hooves.
Twilight rubbed the back of her head and looked away, her face twisted in an awkward smile. "Rainbow Dash asked me."
"I see." The caretaker nodded, sharing an understanding.
"I noticed Pinkie Pie had just left the orphanage," Twilight said, to which Miss Whiteheart nodded in silence. "And I was wondering whether I could ask a question or two about her visits."
The caretaker offered Twilight a seat, squatting on a pillow opposite. "Be my guest, but I'm surprised you won't just ask Miss Pie herself. You are close friends, am I right?"
Twilight drew a tired sigh. "Yes, and I hope our little discussion will clear the air between us. Besides, up until now I wasn't even aware of Pinkie's work."
Miss Whiteheart raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand why Miss Pie would want to keep it a secret. She does such a tremendous work for me and the foals."
"That's exactly what I've been asking myself." Twilight took a squat next to the caretaker. "Please, tell me, how often does she visit the orphanage?"
Miss Whiteheart scratched her chin. "Nearly every day, I guess. In fact, I don't remember her missing an appointment even once this month." She fixed her half-closed eyes at the door, as if she saw through it at her foals in the common room. "Miss Pie is a real blessing to those poor foals, let me tell you. She thinks up games, competitions, performances, brings sweets and toys, and makes their time as enjoyable as it can get..." As the mare counted Pinkie's noble deeds, a dreamy smile rose on her face. "But it's not what's most important for my foals."
Twilight blinked. "What is?"
"A simple fact that those fillies and colts can count on her." The caretaker smiled. "To just be here, I mean. Just like I'm always here for them, Pinkie is another safe harbor, another constant in their troubled lives. And I can't overstate how important it is for them."
"I saw a small part of it through the window." Twilight offered a sheepish smile. "I saw how happy the foals were with her."
Miss Whiteheart chuckled. "It's amazing, don't you think? While most of the foals here regard me as their mother-in-replace, they all treat Miss Pie as their sister. Sometimes an older one, in whom they can seek support and find consolation, who can bend her head and listen to their worries. But more often a younger one, who they can play or pull some harmless pranks with, or simply share a few laughs." The caretaker let out a sigh, giving way to a warm smile to form on her face. "I have to admit, there are days when I'm envious of Miss Pie. Of her rare talent to connect with the foals with such ease."
"I saw a similar scene in the hospital..." Twilight said.
"Have you met my sister, then?"
Twilight nodded.
The caretaker chuckled. "We're both busy mares, Red and I. Can you believe, I learned that Miss Pie visits the foals in the hospital as well, not longer than a month ago?"
"What do you think makes Pinkie so popular with the foals?" Twilight interjected.
Miss Whiteheart rested her head on her hoof, giving the thought a thorough consideration. "If I had to take a guess, I would think her carefree attitude is the main reason. She seems like another one of my foals most of the time—only much, much happier. No wonder the others swarm her like parasprites, no?" she chuckled. "Of course, there are also times when they need to be shown a strict hoof, to set them straight and teach them some rules." She gave out a sigh, but her honest smile hadn't waned an inch. "That's usually my cue to step in, I guess."
Twilight offered an understanding smile.
The caretaker opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. She looked Twilight in the eyes, her face serious and painted with worry. "Miss Sparkle, may I ask you a question in return?"
"Of course."
"Have you come to tell me that Miss Pie is going to stop her visits in my orphanage?"
Before Twilight could form an answer, the caretaker grabbed her hoof. "If there's one thing I fear, it's that Miss Pie does her incredible service as a voluntary assignment. I offered her a regular salary as an invaluable member of the staff here many times, but she always refused. I'm well aware I can't expect her to keep doing her amazing work forever, but I dread the day when I will have to stand before my foals and tell them Miss Pie won't be coming back." She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
Twilight put a reassuring hoof on the caretaker's shoulder. "Don't worry, Miss Whiteheart. I'm sure the day won't come any time soon."
***
"Pinkie, I... I'm so sorry." Twilight muttered, her voice on the verge of breaking. "Had I known sooner..."
"Known what?" Pinkie blinked, her baby blue eyes brimming with energy and laughter.
Twilight pawed her hoof at the ground. "Rainbow showed me everything. Please, don't be mad at her." She added hastily, noticing the pegasus looking away with a blush. "I'm so sorry to have judged you without knowing to what extent your carefree behavior..." She mentally slapped her face with a hoof. Great, now I sound like I'm insulting her. "Your childish personality..." Twilight stuttered. "Your immaturity?"
Twilight furrowed her brow, her forehead swearing heavily. Somehow, the apology sounded worse with each word. She looked at the ponies around her. Rarity was shaking her head with a dispirited look, Fluttershy hid behind a table with drinks, Applejack slid her hat at her snout, and Rainbow did her best to stifle the violent fit of giggles by chewing her wing.
Twilight took a deep breath, her cheeks hot enough to light the room red. She studied the cracked plank in the library's wooden floor. "Look, I'm so sorry I judged your character without knowing the reasons for your behavior. I apologize for criticizing you for who you are. It was very immature of me" – she looked deep into her friend's blue eyes – "and I'm so very, very sorry."
Pinkie stood motionless before Twilight, her head bent lightly in mild confusion, looking at the unicorn with an expression the latter couldn't decipher. When Twilight began doubting her apology had had any effect, Pinkie raised a hoof, motioning the unicorn to come closer.
Twilight looked around the room. Her friends watched her in silence. After a moment of hesitation, she managed to force her lead hooves to carry her forward. With her each step, the smile on Pinkie's face grew wider, giving Twilight the much needed courage. She took one last step, stopping only inches before her friend. Before she could so much as blink, she felt her ribcage crushed in a breath-depriving hug—a feat only Pinkie was capable of.
Her eyes moist and stinging, Twilight could only reciprocate the hug. "I solemnly promise not to say another word about your character," she whispered in the pink ear. "And I hope you will stay true to yourself for as long as you have the will to."
The two ponies shared the hug for a while longer, until Twilight's head started getting dizzy. "You think you could let me breathe now?" she panted.
The hug loosened immediately, and Twilight gasped for air, nearly stumbling to the ground. Pinkie stuck out her tongue at the unicorn and trotted to the center of the room. Her hoof at her chin, she contemplated and judged the party preparation with her expert eyes. "Not bad..." she muttered, "not bad for your first try. Do you mind if I add some finishing touches?" she grinned.
Twilight smiled and gave a nod of approval.
Pinkie's party cannon appeared out of nowhere, shooting balloons and confetti around the room. Loud music filled the library as Pinkie—already adorned with a party hat—yelled into the air. "Come on, ponies! It's time to PAR-TAY!"
***
Moonlight shone through the window as Twilight finished cleaning the library. The party had been a blast—as if it could have been anything less, once Pinkie had taken over. Twilight's horn blazed with purple aura one more time, moving the last bookshelf on its rightful place. She wiped her forehead, her eyes falling at a lonely desk in the corner of the room. A set of quills, three bottles of ink, and some clean parchments—once used regularly every single week—lied forgotten, inviting the unicorn to use them. A nostalgic smile formed on Twilight's face as she trotted to the desk. Enveloped in a purple aura of her magic, a quill sailed into the air, dipping in the ink bottle.
Dear princess Celestia,
First of all, please allow me to apologize for my recent lack of reports. I am aware I have not written much in the last few weeks, but they have been rather slow in presenting opportunities to expand a pony's knowledge on the magic of friendship. Today, however, such an opportunity has arrived, as I learned a very important fact about one of my closest friends.
We may sometimes not understand why our friends behave the way they do, perhaps be annoyed or irritated by some of their quirks... But it is never a reason enough to attack them because of it. If we only believe in each other, expecting the best from our friends instead of the worst–"
The quill shook in the air, dripping a few drops of ink on the parchment. Twilight froze in front of her desk, blinking a few times, her mouth wide open.
"Spike!" she called, before she realized how late it was. She blocked her mouth with a hoof, pricking her ears, expecting the grumbling of her woken dragon assistant to roll down the stairs any second. She drew a sigh of relief when they didn't come.
Twilight channeled magic in her horn. A box full of parchments sailed from a shelf, landing gently in front of the unicorn. A violet aura enveloped Twilight's horn, casting a dim light around the room as she pulled parchment after parchment from the box, giving each one a quick skim. A smile formed on her face as she finally found the one she was searching for. Coincidentally, she had written it during a party as well, a few years ago on the day of Pinkie's birthday. It was Pinkie who had learned the same lesson back then.
With a gentle shake of her head, Twilight put the scroll back in the box, crunched the one she had started writing into a ball, and threw it in the fireplace. The greedy flames consumed the paper like a hungry beast its prey as Twilight levitated another piece of parchment on her desk.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I have just discovered—or should I write rediscovered—a very important fact about the process of learning.
It is of no surprise that we learn the most from mistakes we make ourselves. My dear friend Pinkie Pie taught me a lesson today—the same lesson that she had learned on the day of her birthday, not too long after I had moved to Ponyville.
"You should never expect the worst from your friends, always expect the best." So said the letter I had written to you on that day, all those years ago. And it was the very same lesson I had to be reminded of today. We should embrace the traits of our friends, accept them for who they are, and not try to change their unique personalities under the false pretense of believing we know better. And yes, before you ask, I have to admit I committed all those blunders.
Fortunately, Pinkie was there to show me where being judgmental can lead a pony, and how traits one perceives annoying can be the biggest asset of one's character for another ponies.
Another lesson of mine comes to mind, when Zecora—you do remember my zebra friend, don't you?—taught me not to judge a book by its cover.
I solemnly promise not to make the same mistakes again. I also plan to revise the lessons I've learned so far in the foreseeable future. Perhaps there's more I should be reminded of? The very thought that even after learning those lessons, I'm still prone to making the same mistakes, bothers me to no end.
Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle
P.S. I apologize for not writing to you for such a long time. I hope that the rate of our letter exchange will only improve from now on.
Twilight sealed the scroll with the royal seal and left it on the table. Sending it could stand waiting till Spike woke up in the morning. She put out the candle and headed upstairs. The day had been long and far too exhausting. Her shaky hooves barely dragged her up to her bedroom, filled with loud snores of her number one assistant.
Twilight zigzagged to her bed. Never before had it looked as inviting as now. She fell on the soft mattress, her face graced with a wide, exhausted smile only one of Pinkie Pie's parties could bring.
Author's Note
Do you, dear reader, remember the times, when Pinkie Pie had a fully fledged personality? Do you remember many emotions she could display? Do you remember, when she was more than just a simple-minded goofball? When her personality was something more than just a clump of randomness, when her character meant more than comic relief?
I know it's hard, because show staff seem to forget it all the time, too. Nevertheless, I hope my story has reminded you—even if just a little—that Pinkie Pie is a complex character with many different traits, and is able to both display and induce a wide array of emotions. If it has, I'm truly grateful for taking your time to read this story. And so is Pinkie Pie. 
Never forget:
