"We regret to inform you that your daughter, Pinkameena Diane Pie, fell in action during the Changeling assault on Canterlot. We will be awarding her the Pink Heart of Courage in absentia during the memorial for those who perished in the attack, in recognition of her outstanding valor and bravery in the face of the enemy. You have our condolences."
Igneous numbly read the telegram again, as he had each of the past three mornings. It had come with the morning mail three days ago, and had haunted them ever since. Oh, to outsiders it might appear that the news didn't bother them--they still worked, still ate, still slept--but the eyes of outsiders failed to see their hearts, and it was in their hearts that they truly reacted to their loved ones or news of them.
Those hearts were in agony; Marble was often found mutely wailing these past three nights, weeping silent tears for the twin who'd been stolen from her: Limestone burned hotter than ever, crushing boulders into pebbles in her grief: Maudileena tacked a new course in her studies, searching for hints of anything that might bring Pinkameena back, or help her win vengeance against the Changelings: his beloved Cloudy's gemstone eyes, the eyes that had shone like stars when he first met her, were now cracked with grief: and he himself felt numb, as if his heart had turned to stone with the passing of his beloved daughter.
Oh, Pinkameena, he bowed his head in grief. Diamond of the desert, rose amidst the rocks, star shining out the stones, breath of life and color to a long-cold world, his widdle Pinkie Pie. A last memory of his mother had she been, a reminder of the joy that had once overspilled the walls of this house's hearts. Quick as a blink, tireless as a stream, great-hearted enough to fit the whole world, she was a wonder, for ill and for good; many times had he found her distracted from her chores, and many times had she distracted him from his worries and fears. She was joy, the joy that could do no work itself but could inspire many to do that work and more, the joy that reinvigorated life so that it could perform its duties, the joy that made life more than a simple series of drudgeries. The joy that was now gone, gone forevermore.
He wiped away the budding tears at his eyes; it was not meet for him to bare his heart to the outside world like this, his heart was for those he let within it alone. Carefully, solemnly, he put the telegram back on the table, then looked around for something, some way to distract himself from the gnawing grief that haunted his-
Knock, knock, knock.
Frowning, he turned to the door. Who was that? Couldn't they see the traditional black ribbons of mourning on the posts? Sighing, he stood up then began slowly trotting over to the door; if it was more outsiders seeking to 'console' his inconsolable grief, he feared he would fall upon them as Limestone would.
Creaking the door open, he found a cloaked, hooded pony on the doorstep, a small, serene smile peeking out from under her grey hood. "Good morning," she greeted him, her voice like sweet water. "Would you mind if I came in?"
"I must apologize, my lady," he replied, frowning at her happiness; knew she not that she was at the foot of a house in grief? "but your request must be refused. We are in mourning, and we will burden no visitors-" And allow ourselves to be burdened by none. "-until our mourning be over."
The stranger tilted her head. "Why do you mourn?"
He sighed. "Our daughter fell in battle against the cruel Changelings," he replied. "She could have used her fame to shield herself, say that she was too valuable to risk on the front lines, but she refused to; her thought was always of others, of how she could best serve them."
"Then why do you mourn?" the stranger asked again. "It sounds like she died doing what she loved to do; what better death can be asked for?"
"A death after a long life," he snarled at her nonchalance. "A death after marriage, foals, the deaths of her own parents. No foal should have to die before their parents; it is not meet for the young to perish and the old to endure. The old have already lived their lives, they are ready for death; the young should be given a chance to live their lives to completion before consummating them in death."
"Then why do you mourn?" the stranger asked once more. "It sounds like your daughter managed to live a full life before dying; she lived her live, she was ready for death."
"I was not ready for her death!" Igneous shouted. "None of us were! Cloudy and I were not ready to receive the news that we would be burying our daughter before the week was out! Marble, Limestone, and Maud were not ready to receive the news that the sister who gave them those names was gone! We were not ready to receive the news that our family was wholly here on the farm! We were not ready for joy to die!" He regathered himself, then quietly continued, "My daughter, my little Pinkie Pie, is dead; all I have left of her now are artifacts and memories. That is why I mourn."
"Then why do you mourn?" the stranger asked one last time, their voice gentle. "So long as you remember her, she'll never really be gone. She'll always be here," she tapped him on the front of his barrel before he could react. "in your heart."
Igneous tried to bite back the tears that rose to his eyes. "I want her to be here outside of there, though," he whispered.
Confusingly, the stranger smiled at that, before casting off her hood and cloak.
Igneous covered his eyes; she was dazzling underneath, brighter than Celestia's Sun. Even through his hooves, the radiance faintly burned.
Then it ceased, he withdrew his hooves, and gasped; underneath the grey cloth, there stood an alicorn, wings tight to her sides, horn rising like a stalagmite of jewel from her rosy forehead. Her eyes shone like diamonds, like his Cloudy's diamonds, gems brighter and fairer than sapphires, and stars gleamed within them. Her smile was joyful now, not subdued, gleaming like a curve of pearl. And upon her flanks, he saw the three floating spheres that had haunted him for the last two nights, the floating orbs of yellow and blue that had borne his joy until that dreadful day.
He snarled, taking up a defensive stance in front of the monster that dared to wear his daughter's form. "Changeling," he spat. "Change from that form, and perhaps I shall not-"
Unexpectedly, they laughed at that, they dared to laugh at his determination. "Don't worry, Daddy," they dared to giggle. "I'm not a Changeling, it's really me! And to prove it, let me sing you the song of my people!" Clearing her throat, she chanted:
Ho! Pinkameena Di, Pinkameena Pie!
By laughter, song, and joke, by the Sun-filled sky!
By balloons, Sun, and Moon, hearken now and hear us!
Ho, Pinkameena Di, for our need is near us!
"You taught me that, Daddy!" she chirped, bouncing on her hooves. "That way I wouldn't come up to you and distract you when you're just focusing, not really grumpy! Whenever you needed a Pinkie Cheer-Up, you just needed to sing that song and-"
"-you'd be there," he rasped, eyes wide with wonder. "Pinkameena, is it really you?"
She nodded, her eyes shimmering with joy. "It's me, Daddy. I'm here."
His heart overspilled, tears streaming from his eyes and cries issuing from his throat as he embraced his daughter. "You're here," he wept. "You're here, you're really here."
"I'm here, Daddy," she quietly reassured him, gently nuzzling away his tears. "I'm here."
Eventually, he managed to master himself again, and invited her inside. Before he himself went in, however, he grabbed the bell by the door and gave it a set of good, strong rings, calling the others back inside. He was not the only one who deserved to have his grief assuaged.
Following his daughter inside, he found her looking around the house, a thoughtful expression on her face. "This place hasn't really changed while I was gone," she eventually noted.
"We were overcome by grief," he frowned. "and, beside, you were only gone for three days."
"Three days?" she softly repeated, the thoughtful expression returning. "Yes, three days sounds about right. Sorry I couldn't come back to you sooner, Daddy, but there were a couple things the Princesses wanted to go over with me first."
"There is no need for apology," he reassured her, embracing her again. "It is enough that you came back at all. Speaking of which, though, how did you come back? The reports we received said that you had died. Were they mistaken?"
Her face fell, and a brief anguish passed over it. "I'd," she weakly replied, her voice that of the filly he'd had to protect from monsters under the bed again for a moment. "like to wait until everypony's here to talk about it."
He softened his gaze, and embraced her tighter. He understood, and even if he didn't, as he'd said, it was enough for him that she was there.
The door slammed open. "Okay, dad," Limestone growled, storming into the living room. "Why'd you call us? I was just about to-" She froze as she saw Pinkie, now holding up a sign that said 'Certified 100% Changeling Free!'
She snorted in anger, face reddening, and snarled, "We thought you were dead, Pinkie! And if you don't give us a good enough explanation for why you're here soon, we'll be right!"
"Pinkie?" Maud asked, shock underpinning her voice. "Did she say Pinkie?"
Peeking around her sister, Marble looked into the living room, eyes widening as she saw the alicorn. Retreating, she murmured to Maud, "Mm-hm."
Maud pushed past the seething Limestone, mouth slightly parted and eyes wide in shock as she stared at her sister. Her raised hoof fell limply to the floor. "You're here," she said, her voice softer than usual, almost cloudy with tears. "You're here."
"Pinkameena?" Cloudy quivered, eyes shimmering, as she stumbled into view. "Is it-is it truly you?"
Smiling, she nodded.
The next few minutes were ineffable, an outpouring of emotion such as the Pie household seldom saw; not even walls of stone could have held back the waves of joy and relief that flooded out of their hearts as they reunited with Pinkie.
Eventually, those waves receded, and, after one last nuzzle with her mother, Pinkie was released from her family's grips. They did not leave her, however; instead, they made their way over to their usual seats in the living room, and stared at her in question.
"Pinkameena," Igneous cleared his throat. "not that we are not happy to see you, but we do wonder how it is that we are able to."
"They told us you were dead," Limestone grumbled, her eyes still red from crying. "Were they just lying to us? And what's with the wings and horn?"
Pinkie's face fell. "They did not lie to you," she whispered. "I was dead, for a time. I tried to buy my friends time to escape, but the Changelings were too many for me. They were about to overrun my cannon, and if they did I knew that I was doomed. So I took doom into my own hooves and...had the cannon self-destruct, to take as many of them with me as I could." A shadow fell across her face, and her wings ruffled. "I was burning," she murmured, as if trying to remember a bad dream. "and crushed beneath some rubble. The hallway I was guarding eventually collapsed, and I..." She licked her lips. "There are no words for what happened to me afterwards, no way for me to explain it. I left space and time, and the trappings of flesh. I went to a place no mortal words can describe, no mortal can even picture. There, I-I found Granny Pie and spoke with her, about-about many things. I-I don't know how long we talked, time didn't really mean anything there. Eventually, though--or was it instantly? I don't know--she told me that my work here wasn't done, that there was still a lot more I needed to do. And," she nervously flicked her wings. "she told me that I wouldn't be able to do them just as a regular old party pony. 'You will live again,' she told me, 'but you will not return to your previous life; as a seed dies and becomes wheat, not a seed again, so must you leave your old life behind.' Then-then...there were stars, and scenes from my life, and before I knew it I had these things," she pointed at her horn and wings. "and was waking up in one of the guest rooms in Canterlot. Celestia and Luna taught me how to use my new abilities, and now...well, here I am," she smiled.
"What did mother say you needed to do?" Igneous asked.
"Lots of stuff," she replied. "For now, though, she said the main thing I need to do is adjust to...well, what happened to me, and get ready. The first really big thing she said I need to do," she turned her gaze northward, seeing something that they didn't. "is going to come soon." She stared silently, thoughtfully, for several moments, before eventually shaking her head. "No," she murmured quietly. "It's too far away. That will have to wait. In the meantime," she cleared her throat, turning back to her family. "Princess Celestia also wanted me to bring you this," she levitated over an envelope, which Igneous opened to reveal an invitation. He smiled; it was an invitation to Pinkie's coronation.
He looked up at his daughter. "We would be honored to attend, your majesty."
"Oh, stop it!" she giggled, blushing. "I'm not a majesty, I'm a Pinkie! You told me that, remember, Daddy? I was trying to pronounce my name-"
"-but you kept stumbling over the latter part of it," he softly smiled. "You kept trying, but every time it came out, 'Pink'me' Pie!' And so I took pity on you, and said, 'Yes, little one, Pinkie Pie,' and you managed to pronounce that with no difficulty."
"And you said," she sniffled, smiling. "'You're my little Pinkie Pie, and I love you.' And I still am, Daddy; I might be a big Pinkie Pie on the outside, but on the inside I'll always be-"
"-my little Pinkie Pie," he finished.
The cup of their emotions ran over again, as it did many times that day.
The doors opened, and the trumpets blared. The standard-bearers marched forward, the Royal Guard raised their spears, and all present sang:
Ponies, join the mighty chorus
Which the morning stars began!
Laughter now is crowned a Princess,
Cheering all within its span!
Ever singing, march we onward,
Victors in the midst of strife;
Joyful music leads us onward
In the triumph song of life!
Pinkie beamed at her friends as she walked up the aisle, the dress Rarity had made for her swishing along as she strode. There was Twilight, grieving circles under her eyes already beginning to heal; there was Rarity, looking like she was glad that she'd chosen to use waterproof makeup; there was Fluttershy, smiling softly and truly; and near her protectively stood Rainbow, scars from her own contributions to the fight against the Changelings visible under her dress; and there was Applejack, crying tears of joy. She beamed, too, at her family, come to Canterlot to see her. Even Marble, protectively sandwiched between Limestone and Maud, had come, and gently waved at her. She waved back, inwardly screaming with joy.
Then she reached the end of the aisle, the other Princesses, and knelt down. Her retinue went to their seats, the music quieted, and soon the hall was still.
Then Celestia lifted up her head, and said, "My little ponies, we are gathered here today to recognize the accomplishments of a great pony, one who not only touched the lives of countless others but ultimately gave her very life for the same. She gave all for others, holding nothing back for herself, her only personal desire to see the rest of the world smile. When the Changelings attacked Canterlot, she laid down her life so that we might have the chance to smile and laugh again, though she thought she would not be there to hear it. But here to hear it she shall be, beyond all hope; she gave up her life and received it back, with interest. And now, let us do the same, paying our debts to she who gave us all.
"Pinkameena Diane Pie," she declared, lifting up Pinkie's newly-made crown. "by the power vested in me, I hereby declare you the Princess of Laugh-"
"Wait," Pinkie ducked her head out from under the crown. "Little favor; don't call me the Princess of Laughter. Granny Pie called me something else, and-well, I like it better."
Though there were some murmurings about this, Celestia smiled indulgently, and nodded. "Speak what you would be called."
"'Equestria has a Princess of the Sun, Moon, and Love,'" Pinkie quoted her grandmother, before gently smiling. "'Now let her have a Princess of Hope.'"
"Very well," Celestia dipped her head. "Then, by the power vested in me, Pinkameena Diane Pie, I hereby declare you a Princess of Equestria, the Princess of Hope."
The crown was placed on her head, and she turned to the crowd. Limestone began the applause, great booming stomps against the floor, and the rest of the room swiftly joined in, until the pounding filled the room. "Hail, Princess Pinkameena Diane Pie!" they roared. "Hail, the Princess of Hope!"
"Hail, the Pink Pony," she whispered to herself, remembering the things Granny Pie had told her. "Your's will not be the power to dominate or master or force," she'd said. "but the power to hearten others and bring light to their hearts. You will not destroy or create, but inspire others to do so, as you do now. You will have the power to touch the lives of those you come across, for good and for ill, and that is a great power indeed. And hear; there are many creatures who desire the fall of Equestria and harmony, and behind them all lurks the same shadow, the Shadow that has blighted the world since time began. But now we have one who stands against the Shadow, and she is pink, the Pink Pony, and the light of the joy and hope she sparks will drive the Shadow back more than any force would."
"C'mon everypony, smile, smile, smile," she sang as she began processing out of the coronation chamber. "Fill my heart up with sunshine, sunshine. All I really need's a smile, smile, smile from these happy friends of mine. C'mon everypony, smile, smile, smile, fill my heart up with sunshine, sunshine. C'mon everypony, smile, smile, smile, you know I love to see you beam, beam, beam!"
"Do you trust her visions, Tia?" Luna asked as they took their dinfast. "Some of the things she described..."
"I trust that she had them," she replied, brow furrowing in thought. "I am less sure about their contents. I do believe, however, that it would be prudent to take them into consideration."
Lune nodded, then hesitantly asked, "Do you think she'll be up to it?"
"I don't know," Celestia quietly replied. "But I have hope."
