Missing You
Pinkie pressed stamps onto the four envelopes she held in her basket. “Spike, Princess Cadance, Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna…” she mumbled as she worked. “Done.” She clopped her hooves together once in a half-hearted bit of triumph, then bounced the basket up onto her head and trotted out of her cottage.
All around her, the bustle of modern day Ponyville scurried on. The magirail flashed by, briefly visible in a gap between two tall buildings, the dragon-like roar of its passage dimmed to a whisper by distance. Autotaxies carted passengers to and fro. Commuters piled up at the train station to head to Canterlot or Manehattan or Fillydelphia for their daily jobs.
As she passed through the crowds Pinkie smiled and waved as she always did, till she finally reached the post office where she dropped off the envelopes with the mailstallion, a fairly exasperated-looking chocolate-coated pegasus.
“You know, Miss Harmony-Pie, you send these invitations out by snail mail every year. You could just magi-mail them. Save a lot of time that way,” he chided as he filed the envelopes.
Pinkie’s eyes held only a glimmer of their usual twinkle. “Oh I know, but my friends prefer an old-fashioned touch.” The mailstallion shook his head, and as Pinkie bounced out of the office, she could practically hear him thinking about how stupid and stubborn eccentric mares could be. A wan smile touched her mouth at the thought.
Tucking away her sad thoughts so she could focus, Pinkie spent the rest of the morning hustling to fill her list of party supplies from the shops she preferred to shop at. Over the years, she’d had to change on occasion to different shops as some family businesses closed, and new supermarkets or chain businesses opened, but she always stuck to as much familiarity as she could. It was important, for her own sake. She didn’t want to forget, for their sake.
Her pace slowed as she passed through one of the older commercial districts. She came to a stop before a supermarket which straddled an old location she knew so well, deep in her heart. In her mind’s eye, she saw the bakery that once stood in its place. Scents came to her memory, little wisps of chocolate and cranberry muffins, with glasses of hot apple cider. They’d have been perfect for her party, but... “I’m sorry I couldn’t save Sugarcube Corner, Mr. and Mrs. Cake...” she whispered.
With a shuddering breath, she pushed on with the rest of her supply gathering. As she arrived home, the clock on the wall of her little cottage began chiming twelve. Her saddlebags were bursting with everything she needed for her usual perfect birthday party.
Of course, she thought sorrowfully as she traipsed into her empty house, her birthday party would be missing a number of important guests...but no. She didn’t need to dwell on that right now. Instead, she reached into her box of her most treasured belongings and withdrew an ancient, battered picnic basket, still smelling of apples despite the centuries. She filled it with a few special sweets and treats, for the private party with the girls she intended tomorrow morning. Setting it on the counter, she steeled herself to get to work.
With a few hundred years’ worth of experience, setting up the perfect birthday party was a cinch. The right balance of streamers, decorations, balloons and banners all prepared just so, just the way they would have wanted it. Yet as she went through the motions, she worked slower and slower. Finally, she scribbled out “Happy 321st Birthday, Pinkie Pie!” on the title banner.
She pulled her head back and read what she’d just written. “Happy birthday.” “Happy.” She spat out her pen in disgust. As if she could ever have a happy birthday without them.
She needed to see them. Without even a second thought to the scattered party supplies strewn across the floor, she snatched up her old picnic basket and galloped out her cottage door.
Her gallop took her through towering skyscrapers and apartment complexes, to the edge of old Ponyville and what used to be the orchard of Sweet Apple Acres, most of which had long since been given over to development. One small hillock, once a part of the south field, still held a few old apple trees bearing fruit. Within the orchard lay a quiet little park, carefully and respectfully maintained. All around, the newer buildings and changes towered over like grim spectres, casting haunting shadows.
For the briefest of moments, Pinkie halted in the grip of nostalgia, flashes of old memories swimming through her mind. A checkered cloth, balloons in a basket flying away, hours spent under the summer sun laughing and playing...but just as quickly, the memories faded, and she galloped on.
In the center of the park was a tiny cemetery, just a semicircle of five headstones, each engraved with a Cutie Mark: a trio of apples, a trio of diamonds, a trio of butterflies, a cloud with a rainbow lightning bolt, and a purple six sided star. At the center of the headstones stood a pedestal with an engraved tablet bearing the message, "Here lay the saviors of Equestria, the spirits of the Elements of Harmony. Death will not end the love they shared in life.” Carved into the stone at the end of the message was a stylized royal hoofprint.
Tears welled up in her eyes at the sight of the headstones. She placed the basket of sweets down and began to pass out a different treat to each grave. As she placed the final gift at the foot of Twilight’s headstone, her body started to shake. “I-I hope I didn’t get you the wrong kind of muffin, Twilight. I can’t...I can’t even remember anymore if you like cranberry...”
With an angry cry she kicked the basket out of her way and collapsed onto her haunches in front of the graves, weeping. “I’m sorry I couldn’t wait until tomorrow, girls,” she said through her tears. “I just really needed to see you. Sometimes I can’t figure out why I even go on living without you.”
She stomped her hoof at a clod of dirt. “I-it’s not fair! I shouldn’t have outlived you!” She sniffled, sparing a glance at the six sided star grave. Pinkie remembered the shock on Twilight’s face when she’d discovered how the magic behind the Pinkie Sense also granted Pinkie a lifespan comparable to the Princesses. How Rarity had told her it was a gift to stay eternally ageless and beautiful. Fluttershy had actually joked that she could start calling her “Auntie Pinkie” now. Rainbow Dash had just complained that the more she learned about Pinkie, the less any of it ever made sense. And Applejack had just told her it was an opportunity to keep up with their children and their children's children for generations to come. But Applejack didn’t know, couldn’t have known...
Her quivering leg muscles gave out on her entirely, letting her tears stream down into the dirt. “I know a lot of ponies here care about me. I mean, I visited Pound Cake’s great to the fifth granddaughter and her foals in Baltimare just last week. Everypony called me Granny Pie. But it...it wasn’t...All I could think about when I was with them was how we were never able to h-have our own children...”
More memories flooded back, about how her magic rendered her sterile, and how it wasn’t known until after Twilight had accidentally passed on that sterility to the rest of them in the form of an experiment, trying to sync up their genes so any children of theirs was a child of all six of them.
Her chest heaved with her sobs. “Sometimes I even think about...about...ending it. A sharp knife, just a little prick, and then I’d be with you again." She rubbed her snout into the dirt. "But...I don't really want to die. It’s just that all the color went out of the world without you girls. You were everything to me. Everything..."
“Pinkie?” came a sudden deep voice from behind.
Pinkie let out a sigh and spared a glance to see the looming presence of a familiar green and purple dragon. “Hi, Spike,” she said, not even bothering to get up from her prone position.
A dark shadow was cast over Pinkie as Spike brought one of his massive hands over her, laying it gently onto her back. “I miss them too, Pinkie,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Pinkie sniffled, curling her head up into Spike’s fingers. His scales were cool and comforting to the touch. Memories of Spike as a baby dragon flooded her mind along with fresh memories of her lovers, bringing forth the beginnings of new tears.
To her surprise Pinkie found Spike’s fingers curling around her suddenly, lifting her up and clasping her to his chest. She instinctively cuddled against him, soaking in the draconic heat. “I miss them too,” he repeated as he held her tightly. That was all she needed to start crying again, this time not just for herself, but for Spike too.
After a few moments, her tears were spent. She wiped her face and looked up at her dragon friend. “Spike, what’re you doing here? The party isn’t till tomorrow.”
He stared down at her with those piercing green eyes and lifted his other hand, which contained five bouquets of various flowers. “Thought I might pay my respects. Didn’t think you’d be here though. Missing them again?” Pinkie nodded wordlessly. “I figured. You look like crap, Pinkie.”
She snorted, though she couldn’t help a small giggle. “Gee, thanks, Spike.”
He flashed her a lopsided grin. “I’d be happy to help you finish setting up the party in a little while, but...” Spike gazed down at the headstones. “What say we sit and talk with our friends first?”
She sighed, her mouth curling into a wan little grin. “Oh, okay. Put me down, please.”
“Sure thing.”
“And Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
This was originally published as a submission to Thirty Minute Pony Stories, a pony fanfiction blog I started and help run with several other friends, including Norse Pony, who helped give me significant assistance in editing this for the FIMFiction audience. I'm extremely grateful for his assistance.
The prompt was: "Pinkie Pie invites her four best friends to her birthday party." Because we had recently done a prompt based around shipping all of the Mane Six together in a single relationship, my mind immediately jumped to the concept of Pinkie living forever, having outlived her wives. Her best friends are thus the only four she could know that would understand what living forever(or, at least in Spike's case, an incredibly long time) would entail. Maybe it's a silly story idea, maybe not, but it's what I chose to run with for the prompt. In any event, I hope you enjoyed the story, and thank you for reading it.
