After a brief break for breakfast, we return to Twilight Sparkle in the privacy of her own room. She sat crouched in front of her tiny desk, a toothbrush clenched in her teeth dripping foam into her lap, and a brown and creased page held out between her hooves.
Behind her and all around, the piles of crumpled papers and discarded ideas floated aimlessly in Twilight’s aura—forgotten after all attention was turned to this one page.
“Hm...” She frowned, and levitated the toothbrush away from her mouth, “This is terrible.” It was true, of course. She had barely filled half the scroll, and what she had was rampant with scribbles, crossed out words, and the tears of desperation. If there was any one, single truth about Twilight Sparkle, it was that she shouldn’t try to write when she was tired. But she’d gotten this far, it only made sense that she finish what she started.
Thus, Twilight carefully set the page down at the corner of her desk, pulled out a clean one, then dipped her quill in the pot of ink and set to work.
“Clover Frost, my beloved!” Sunlight Sparkle creened. She almost rolled out of her bed upon seeing her beloved stallion step into the tent. The heat of the moment, that luscious swager of his hips. She coul—“
“Spiiiike!”
Starlight’s angry voice sounded from up the hall, echoing loudly through the castle and shattering Twilight’s concentration. There was the resounding, thundering roll, of a million little pieces of paper hitting the ground behind her. The quill jerked aside, snapped in two, and etched a large deep black ink stain across the page, and Twilight collapsed to the ground, face first, into the sea of crumpled notes.
“I’m coming, Starlight!” Spike’s voice answered from outside and, as Twilight picked herself up, she heard the silent padding of dragon feet outside. Spike ran past her room at a moderately-above-walking-pace with a grimace on his face, waddling as fast as his legs would carry him in the direction of Starlight’s angry yells.
Twilight sighed and facehoofed. “... Are you serious?!” She groaned into her hoof and stood up, clearing a path through the papers with her magic, stormed to the door and slammed it shut, then returned to her desk to continue writing.
She crumpled up the ruined page and threw it over her shoulder, adding it to the sea of papers gathering around her hooves, and pulled out another clean sheet and quill from her drawer.
“Clover Frost, my beloved!” Sunlight Sparkle was extatic. She rolled over onto her back and took her loved between her hooves as he came in for a kiss. “I missed you so much. It feels like you’ve been gone for eons!” She cooed and then they kissed.
Twilight paused to think, making a mental checklist of what she needed. She had the setup, check. She had the character, and the saucy dialogue; double check. All she needed now was the—Twilight blushed a deep red.
“Okay, okay,” she took a deep breath, shook herself off, and bought herself some time by dipping her quill in the ink. Whilst ensuring it was thoroughly soaked, Twilight forced herself to remain focused, and ignored her wings as they extended behind her all of their own. She needed the saucy bits.
She took another deep breath, pushed back her mane, and leaned into writing the next scene.
They kissed long and hard, their breaths panting. “Oh Twilight” Clover Frost moaned. He pushed her into the bed and then he— And then he realised something. “We can’t do this!” Clover pushed away, his chiselled chin sparkling in the candlelight of the tent.”
“Why, my beloved?” Sunlight was disappointed.
“It’s not perfect!” He sat up beside Sunlight throwing a hoof across the near bare tent, save for a lone trunk, the coat rack, and Clover’s cloak as previously stated. The thundering roar of the ice storm outside filled the room. “This tent is a mess and I can’t love you without the enriching smell of literature to fill my nose!”
Twilight beamed. It was perfect, everything she could have wanted from an erotic work of fiction. The strong, loving, sympathetic, yet academically inclined stallion and the smart and talented unicorn mare lucky enough to find herself draped between his hooves.
She could see the scene playing out as it were right now. Clover Frost— his rippling physique sparkling in the light— holding Sunlight with his hooves around her barrel, and the golden glow of his horn as he enticed her with the melodious and eloquent words of William Shankspear.
His smooth, deep voice would lull her into a sense of relaxation as he recounted the historical prominence of the author’s writings, and the reflections of the times they embodied. And then, when she least expected it, he would run his hoof down her barrel, over her flank and onto her—
Twilight’s head dipped, her horn brushing past the end of her quill on its way to the table. It hit with a resounding smack and Twilight bolted upright— wide awake. She looked around frantically, her eyes darting to the corners.
She turned forwards again and, realising she’d been drooling, brought up a hoof to wipe the spittle away on her fetlock, then looked over the page.
It was almost three quarters full, with a few droplets of spittle staining the bottom edge of the page, and a large mark etching off from the last word where Twilight had fallen asleep. She’d gone off on a horrible tangent, but she was sure she could still save it. Thus, after wiping away the extra ink and ensure her desk wouldn’t be permanently damaged; she leaned back into her work.
“Oh, Clover Th Frost.” Sunlight beamed. “Make love to me like Romareo did to his beloved.” She begged aching for him.
“I will, my bean of Sunlight in the twilight. Like the millions of stallions who—
Changing her mind, Twilight quickly scratched out the last few words, and pulled in her seat to sit more comfortably. Once she was sure she was close enough to the desk and that there were no more papers shuffling at her hooves, the quills movements resumed.
—Like a millions stallions who could not.” And then they kissed again.
And in their flurried motions against each other, Sunlight lit her horn and summoned a frilled, silken cottong saddled to wrap around her barrel. The bark straps flapping freely at her sides against Clover’s hooves.
He leaned into his beloved and—
The quill froze, motionless, inches off the page. Twilight’s brow furrowed as she fought for the right words.
—and—
Still nothing.
“Um...” Twilight clicked her tongue and pulled the quill closer to bush against her face as she though. Her mind had suddenly drawn a blank. She knew what she wanted to do, where the story was to go, but she couldn’t for the life of her find the right words to describe it.
It was like th— “Oh no!” Twilight gasped under her breath, and pressed her hooves came up to press against her forehead. It can’t be, she groaned into her hooves, and began rubbing her temples. She couldn’t have writer’s blockagain, and right when it was getting good too.
No, she had to write something, anything. The quill trembled as Twilight’s magic brought it back down to the page. She began wracking her brains, trying not to focus on the page but rather what she was trying to do.
—and they—
She kew what she had to do, what she wanted, but she just... couldn’t.
—and they then He—
There was a loud rap on the door, and Twilight’s concentration shattered and she spun around, flipping her page facedown with a flash of her horn, and looked directly at its handle as she heard mumblings from outside. Two voices argued, muffled by the thick wood, outside.“Starlight, wait!” Spike’s voice yelped suddenly, and something hard collided with the door making it shudder. There was another bumping, the thud of something rolling to the ground, and the door burst inwards.
“I’m sorry, Spike”— Starlight shouted over her shoulder, a stack of papers towering above her head as she trotted into the room— “but this can’t wait.” She waded her way through the sea of crumpled pieces to Twilight’s desk ignoring the princess’ pre-imminent melt down. “I don’t care how busy Twilight is, if you’re not going to help me I have no choice but to go to her.”
Twilight was almost knocked aside as the stack of papers levitated up past her and set themselves down with a loud slam in the middle of the desk, rattling it, knocking Twilight’s quill to the ground, and thoroughly burying her previous work beneath the mountain.
“W—”Twilight did a double take, glancing to Starlight, to Spike as he waddled into the room at the back, panting loudly and rubbing a large bump in the middle of his forehead. She turned then to the pile of papers towering in front of her. “What are these?” She levitated a trio from the top of the stack, reading off the titles as they drifted past her face. “Equestrian Labour Act of 1405, Mind Control Labour Relations Act of 1309, Equality-Inequality Divisions Act of 802!?”
“No time to explain,” Starlight shook her head, levitated Twilight’s quill up from the floor, and shoved it into her face, “I need these documents signed by a princess right away.”
“I— ah— told you, Starlight.” Spike huffed, out of breath as he ran up beside Starlight, holding up his arms and standing between her and Twilight, “Twilight can’t—” He wobbled on his feet, and leaned against his shins to try and regain his breath. “She doesn’t—” He huffed, “She doesn’t have the authority to—”
“Then send it to Princess Celestia!”
“Starlight Glimmer!” Twilight shot up from her seat, snatching the quill from her student and staring her down. “I’m not going to do anything until you tell me what’s going on and”— she motioned to her desk— “what all of this.”
“Please, Twilight!” Starlight screamed and threw herself at Twilight’s hooves, surprising the princess as she grabbed onto her fetlocks and looking up to her with tears in her eyes. “These are legal documents. If I don’t get them signed by a princess right now I might have to go to jail!”
“B--” Twilight’s eyes went wide, and she glanced to where Spike was, standing beside the desk and looking on with concern. She patted Starlight’s mane and grabbed her hoof to pull her up. “Fine,” Twilight relented. She really wasn’t in the mood to be dealing with any of this, not now, not ever. She pointed Spike over to the desk. “Spike, send them to Princess Celestia.”
“Bu—“
“No buts!”
“... okay.” Spike sighed and stepped closer to the desk. Both Twilight and Starlight moved aside to let him work.
Spike stood beside the desk for a short moment, taking deep breaths, until he finally heaved a sigh and blew his flame across the papers. The entire pile immediately went up in flames, a golden magic enveloping them from Spike’s side to the far side, and evaporating the piled into golden whips that twisted their way up, out the window, and on their way to Canterlot.
With the job done, Starlight relaxed. She squeezed Twilight in a tight hug, thanking her as many times as she could, and soon they were both gone.
Alone and left to her own devices, Twilight took a deep breath as she made her way back to her empty desk, brushing the papers across the floor and pulling them neatly in the corner on her way. In a way, she was actually grateful for the interruption. The block was gone, and she was itching with anticipation to continue her writing.
She dropped down in her seat, levitated her quill up from the floor, pulled her chair in, and went pale, frozen, as she set eyes on her desk. The desk was empty.
Realisation slowly dawned on Twilight, her eyes widening as they refused to tear themselves away, a look of horror taking hold.
Empty desk.
The words echoed through her mind.
Empty desk.
Her heart pounding in her ears, her stomach dropping through the floor, every second her mind went through the same actions, and the implications it held.
Empty desk.
She flipped the desk. “Mother Fa—”
