Chapters Books Are Heartwarming Things
It was a cold and stormy night...
Wait, let me rephrase that. It was more of a cold and stormy evening that was just starting to fade into night. The sky was a mixture of pinks, blues, and purples, and it was only a wind storm, raining in small spurts. The air was like a frosty mixture of freezing and warm, and-
I’m getting off topic, aren’t I? This isn’t the point of the story. The weather doesn’t even have anything to do with the story.
My story is about how books are the most amazing and mind-provoking things in the world. They can take you anywhere and can do more than just educate and entertain you.
This is the story of how a book changed a young filly’s life.
As I was saying, it was a cold and stormy night...
~*~*~*~*~
I poured the sugar into my cup of green tea and stirred it, levitating my book in front of me. The library was clean, Spike was in bed asleep, and I was into the chapter where she finds out he was a spy all along. It was a good night.
The library was not occupied, and hopefully wouldn’t be later on. It was too late for anypony to be coming in anymore.
Well, I had thought it was too late for anypony to be coming in anymore. But the door to the library slowly swung open, and I glanced up to see who my late-night visitor was. Surprisingly, it was a young filly.
She was a sweet rose color, with curly blonde hair tied in pigtails. Her purple eyes were wide and searching as she came in the door, but they didn’t appear amused. Taped on her leg was a note with large and neatly done hoofwriting, and she had a patched saddle bag over her back.
“May I... help you?” I asked as I got up from my pillow, trying not to sound confused or worried. I was failing at that, of course.
The filly looked at me, startled by my presence but unaltered all the same. Then, in a causal voice, she faced the shelves and said, “Oh, um, I’m just looking for a book for my mom.”
“Do you need help finding it?” I offered, but the foal whipped around again and shook her head quickly. “Oh, um, okay...”
I watched her scuttle around the room. Every time she stopped, she’d look at the note on her hoof, then back to a certain book, do a double-take, and keep going. It was like she was reading a foreign language or something.
Then I noticed another strange thing; the filly was a unicorn.
Okay, yes, her being a unicorn is not strange in itself, but the fact that she wasn’t using her magic was what confused me. She could have been levitating the note in front of her and could be picking up multiple books at once, but she wasn’t. Perhaps she couldn’t- though, at this age, she should have been able to.
After a while the filly finally noticed me staring and asked a simple “What?”
“Oh, nothing...” I replied and covered up by glancing at the ceiling. The filly raised an eyebrow before searching the shelves again. There was an awkward silence that would have lasted the whole night if I hadn’t spoken up.
“My name is Twilight Sparkle,” I said, walking toward her a bit. An attempt to start conversation at its worse. “What’s yours?”
She didn’t look over at me, as she was reading the spine of one book. “Rosy Cheeks,” she said quietly and put the book back.
“... Who’s your mother?”
“Sweet Cheeks.”
“Why couldn’t she come over here? Surely she wouldn’t let a filly your age go out in Ponyville alone at night?” She didn’t appear to be much over the Cutie Mark Crusaders age; there was a rosebud in the shape of a heart on her flank.
Rosy Cheeks stopped pulling out books and turned. “My mom can’t move much ever since she got really, really sick,” she answered, shuffling her hoof in front of her. “So she’s at home.”
“What book does she need?” Books are a good way to get back to health, after all. Especially when you have a disease that apparently makes you unable to travel. It's like soup but with words.
Instead of saying a title, Rosy Cheeks held up her hoof to show me what was written there. “Whatever this says.”
The note had said Little Fillies, and I thought it was pretty obvious, but Rosy Cheeks somehow had no idea. She continued to stare up at me with those huge violet eyes and I said, “It’s the book Little Fillies.”
Rosy Cheeks, wide-eyed, stared down at the note in disbelief. “It is?”
“Yes. Could you... not...?” I expected her answer, but I really didn't want to hear it.
Rosy Cheeks shook her head. “I can’t read. I kinda had to see if the pictures on the book match the ones on the note,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. A thoughtful pause. “Can you help me find it?”
I nodded, still shocked that the poor filly couldn’t read. She wasn’t able to experience the awesomeness of books! That must have been terrible for a foal her age! Something had to be done about it.
So, as I picked through the books, checking spine after spine, I decided to ask, “...You can’t read, correct?”
Rosy Cheeks nodded.
“Did you want to learn?”
“Is reading... fun?” She tilted her head innocently. Obviously this foal had been tortured or something of the sort.
“Fun?!” I exclaimed, making her jump. “Reading is the greatest pastime in the world! It’s like having an adventure in your hooves! Books can take you anywhere, anytime in just the flick of a page! I-”
The floor of my library teetered under me, and I froze in my wonderful speech. Rosy Cheeks gaped as I stood on the top of my chair. I guess I had jumped up there in all the excitement of books.
“See what books can do to you?” I said, showing her my best I-had-planned-this smile and hopped off the seat.
Rosy Cheeks frowned. “I don’t want to waste your time...” she muttered, looking down.
“It won’t be any trouble at all! How about tomorrow morning at 10?” I put the book in her saddlebag.
She sighed, then said, “Okay, I guess I’ll try.”
“Great! See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow,” said Rosy Cheeks and walked out of the door.
I watched her go, smiling and excited to see her the next morning.
Books Are Heartwarming Things
I honestly didn’t really expect the little filly to come back, so the floor of the library was covered with books and scrolls. But the next morning, around 10, Rosy Cheeks entered the door, appearing excited and raring to go. I felt bad since I hadn’t even bothered an attempt to tidy up the place before I opened.
But I had to do something with her that didn’t include cleaning. Smiling, I walked over to her and said, “Good morning, Rosy. Did your mother enjoy that book?”
Rosy nodded. “She’s been reading it ever since breakfast! She tried showing the book to me, though, so I told her about what you said yesterday, and she asked who you were, and I told her, and she asked why you wanted me to come over, and I said why, and she let me come, and I said-”
She was interrupted by me placing a hoof up to her face. “I see,” I said, chuckling at her sudden happiness. A drastic change from the monotonous, casual and semi-depressed personality I saw only yesterday. Perhaps I would see her as she truly was? Then again, she’d have to be comfortable around me, first.“Do you want to begin?”
“Yeah!” she cried, her hooves clopping the ground excitedly.
I grinned at her readiness and took out a small paperback book from the shelf, placing it on my side table. “Sit down,” I welcomed, beckoning her to the red chair.
Already her energy had simmered down some and she was slow and cautious when she walked. I sat next to her and put the book in front of us. “Can you try to read that?” I asked. I wanted to see where we needed to start. I was hoping we were close to the same page.
Turns out, to my surprise, she knew what the letters of the alphabet were, but didn’t know how to pronounce them. When I had shown her the book Goodnight, Luna, she had identified the letters but didn’t say anything about the actual words.
“Well,” I said, glad we were on the same page, “I guess we’ll have to go through the whole alphabet in order to teach you this.” Rosy looked a bit worried at this conclusion, but I quickly added, “It won’t take long.”
“It won’t? There are a lot of letters in the alphabet...”
I shook my head confidently. “It’ll be quick and easy, you’ll see.”
Boy, was I wrong. The alphabet, you see, is a very complicated system that takes quite a few days to learn. There are multiple intricate sounds with each letter, rules and boundaries, and the list of longer words gets bigger and bigger as you go. And I had no clue about the pain that teachers had to go through to teach it to a classroom of over 25 students.
I didn’t know this, though, so I had stupidly decided to start teaching the alphabet that day. Do you know how long it takes for a filly to learn the letter A? A long time, mind you.
And she wasn’t a fast learner. I can’t begin to imagine how long it took her to learn just what the letters looked like, bless her heart. Magic was going to be a toughie if we were going this slow.
I can remember one part of our lessons that brought us closer together, I believe. I was showing her a book about some foals doing varying things together, and we were nearing the end when she asked me a somewhat random question.
“Hey, Twilight, what all do mothers do with their kids?”
I gazed at her. It wasn’t a bad question, but why would she ask something like that? Surely she had done something with her mother before. I felt a tiny voice in my head to skip over her question just in case I touched a fragile subject, but her face was just so... cute.
“Well,” I said, crossing my hooves in thought. “They do puzzles together, read books, dance, sing, knit or sew, play games...” Memories of my mother and I flooded through my mind and I had to stop myself before I explained my entire childhood to her. Then I said, “Why do you ask?”
Rosy fidgeted her hooves a bit, contemplating her answer. “I... wanted to know what kind of stuff normal mothers did with their daughters.”
“Normal mothers...?” I hope she didn’t mean what I thought she meant.
Rose exhaled deeply before saying, “My mom has cancer, so she can’t do a lot of stuff with me.”
I felt my heart catch in my throat. I was sort of expecting that, but in a way that I wished I hadn't. “Is that way you had to come here last week instead of your mother?”
She nodded. “She can’t go places much anymore because her head might get hurt.” Her sad frown then dispersed and became a smile. “But that doesn’t mean she can’t love me any less than a pony without cancer.” At least she was trying to stay happy while her mother was going through this.
I chuckled. “That’s good.” An idea popped into my head. “Maybe we could do things together when you come over to study,” I offered, then remembered her mother. “Of course, if your mom says it’s okay. I mean, she hasn’t had much time with you so I guess it’s all up to her with the issue of your education."
Rosy’s purple eyes twinkled more than I’d seen them before. And, combined with her mile-wide grin and forming blush, I could see why her name was Rosy Cheeks. “That sounds awesome! Thank you, Twilight!” she squealed.
Her head suddenly nuzzled under my chin, and I almost jerked back in surprise. Normally fillies didn’t just decide to rub against me and expect me not to turn awkward.
But her golden locks felt smooth against my fur, and I sensed the love that came out of that one magical gesture. Strange how I didn’t know her very well, and yet she felt a faint connection to me.
Strange, indeed.
Books Are Heartwarming Things
Magic was one the the hardest things in the world to teach a young foal, especially one who had no experience with it whatsoever. The only time she had ever seen magic being used was when I levitated stuff. And that wasn’t much to go by.
So we had to start from scratch.
When Rosy had arrived, I was pulling out a thick book about magic that probably looked like a monster in her eyes, and the butterflies in her stomach ready to learn had just died then and there, and might have crushed her hopes in the process.
Or I could be exaggerating.
Either way, when Rosy walked in, her smile faltered a little. “When my mom said that magic was hard to learn, I didn’t think she meant that hard,” she commented, tossing her saddle bag next to the door as she usually did.
I turned to her, shocked to see her so early. It was only 9:30. “Good morning,” I said, putting the book on my desk and waving a hoof at her. Her eyes continued to stare at the book, and it took me awhile to realize why. “Oh, um, about the book...”
Not a moment passed very long for it to take full effect. “It’s going to take me forever to even levitate something!” she exclaimed and slumped into the big chair, crossing her hooves.
I put a hoof on her shoulder. “No it won’t,” I said, though it was just a lie to get her to stop whining. It was almost as irritating as Rarity’s, which was saying a lot. “When I was younger, I said the same thing. But now look at me.” I made my best cheeky grin.
Rosy gazed up at me, then started making that squeaky, high-pitched noise even louder. There should be a spell that makes foals stop doing that.
“You’ll learn it quickly,” I said over her obnoxious crying. Sadly, I had no experience with young creatures, at least not with girls, and honestly had no clue about what to say to comfort her.
She glared at me. “That’s what you said about the alphabet. And how long did that take us? 3 weeks, Twilight.” Then she huffed at me and turned away. Fillies were so stubborn these days.
“You can try, at least,” I prodded, bringing the book over to her lap and gently putting it down. She winced, and I realized that gently putting it down wasn’t going to change its impact. Rosy pouted down to the book, examining its velvety cover and golden trim.
After a frustrated sigh, she said, “Fine, I’ll try.”
“Good!” I moved the book onto a more comfortable place, my desk, and used my magic to open it to page one. I noticed her sparked interest at how magic worked, and I said, “Magic takes focus and time, so don’t be upset if you don’t get it the first time, all right?”
She nodded.
I smiled and pulled a dark brown feather out of the cover of the book. It was one of Owlowiscious’ feathers. I just used it for a quill, but today, Rosy was going to try to focus her magic on something light.
“Now,” I began, slowly going into lecture mode. “all unicorns have a special magic inside of them. A unicorn’s magic also has something to do with his or her special talent.” Then I realized that I didn’t actually know what her cutie mark meant. “Speaking of which, what’s your special talent?”
Rosy flipped her head to get a good look at her flank. It was a rosebud, but two of the petals formed the shape of a heart. The bud was connected to a curved stem, with three small leaves on it. I had no clue what it meant.
“I got it whenever Mom found out she had cancer. I comforted her and I guess my special talent is... making ponies feel better?” She seemed really confused.
I frowned in deep thought, wondering how you would use your magic for that. It might have been something along the lines of Princess Cadance’s magic, but not making ponies fall in love. It sounded really complicated.
Maybe she didn’t use her magic with her special talent at all?
… No. I didn’t want to think about that possibility. Unicorns had talents that matched their magic abilities. Rosy was not about to be an exception.
“What’s your mom’s special talent?”
Rosy rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, it was hairdressing, but you know how that went down,” she said.
Twilight nodded, not wanting to continue the conversation. “Magic can only be accomplished by three things: focus, insight, and imagination. Without them, magic would be impossible. Are you taking notes?”
The filly’s eyes flickered from the left, then the right, then back at me. “Um... with what?”
She had no quill or notecards. “Oh, right,” I muttered, blush creeping over my muzzle.
Rosy giggled and rolled her eyes playfully. “Focus, insight, and imagination, got it. What’s next?”
“You need to focus directly onto what you want to do. If your attention goes elsewhere, it either won’t work or it will do something totally different,” I continued, flipping through the multiple pages of the book. Rosy stared at the pink magic surrounding the book, entranced, but nodded like she was really listening.
I then placed the feather in front of her. “Now, focus your energy on this feather and see if you can at least form an aura around it. If you can, that would make your studies go faster.”
Seeing that if she did this, she could finish quicker, Rosy squeezed her eyes shut, pointed her tiny horn toward the feather, and thought really hard. There were sparks and sputters as she grimaced under the force. Her magic, from what I could tell by the sparkles, were a light lavender color.
Rosy suddenly stopped, panting and sitting down with a plop. “Did... did it work?” she huffed, lifting her head. The feather hadn’t moved an inch. “Aw, ponyfeathers!”
“That was great, Rosy!” I encouraged, trying to make her feel accomplished. “You got some magic going, but it didn’t hit the feather-”
“I failed?” I froze from my talking and saw that Rosy looked like she got punched in the soul. “It didn’t even move?”
Somberly, I shook my head. “It was a good effort, though.”
“A good effort,” she sighed. “But it wasn’t a great one.” I was hoping her personality wasn’t like this; stubborn, strong-willed, and a bit on the whiny side. Sure, she was nice and gentle all the same, but if you got acquainted with her well enough, you’d find out she was a more persevering than meets the eye.
Her bottom lip then started to quiver and her eyes went wide like saucers. Something twinkled in her eye, which I guessed was a tear. But worse of all, she started making that whiny sound again. I lowered my ears in pain and groaned.
“This is going to be harder than I thought.”
Books Are Heartwarming Things
Even after her failed attempts at magic before, Rosy had returned the next day with a determined grin on her face. There wasn’t a bone in her body that could possibly feel like giving up, and I had to give her credit. She wasn’t trying to stop magic altogether, at least.
Something bulged in her saddlebags, and I paused from my book organizing to look at her. “Good morning,” I said, the books still floating around the room. “What’s that in your bag?”
“I brought back the book my mom was reading, and she also gave me a book on magic that I could use here. She said it would ‘increase my chances of success.’” Rosy glared at the book on her left flank with a disgusted frown. “It’s an old book from when she was a filly; I don’t think it’s going to help.”
I shook my head and got the books out of her saddlebags with magic. “Nonsense. The book we were looking at yesterday is probably older than your grandmother, and it worked, right?” It didn’t on her, obviously, but it wouldn’t hurt to be optimistic.
I opened the front cover of Little Fillies so I could check it in, but a note fell out of it before I could do anything. Curiously, I lifted it and was surprised to find it was written by Sweet Cheeks. I read it carefully and hungrily.
Dear Twilight Sparkle,
I can’t thank you enough for doing all of this. Rosy and I appreciate it greatly. She hasn’t gotten proper education at a school, and you doing this is just wonderful. From what Rosy has told me, you must be a lovely and kind pony. I wish I could talk to you face to face, but in my current condition, that would be hard to do. Anyways, if you need a favor, anything at all, just send Rosy with a message and I will try my best. Thank you again.
With love,
Sweet Cheeks~
Moving the note away from my eyes, I gazed down at Rosy, who was trying to make an aura around a piece of paper. Something tickled at my heart, and brought a smile to my face. I must have looked like a total idiot, smiling like that, but it was only Rosy here.
Sweet had great hoofwriting and grammar, I had to admit.
I put the two books in their correct places, along with the rest of them. Rosy’s mother reminded her of a mortal Princess Celestia: caring and wise. I had a realization that Rosy carried so many of Sweet’s traits that it was a bit scary. I wanted a chance to meet her now.
There were suddenly enthralled shrieks coming from the other side of the room, interrupting my train of thought. I turned to Rosy to find a purple light around both the piece of paper and her horn. They were faint lights, daring to falter at any moment, but they were auras.
Rosy herself was a happy and energetic mess, hopping around. With all of her movement, the magic threatened to go away, but I didn’t say anything. We would work on focus later. This moment was too precious to ruin with my nagging.
“Rosy, you did it!” I exclaimed, trotting over to her.
“I know!” she responded, her voice high and squeaky from all of the excitement. “It’s kinda obvious!” It wasn’t used in a whiny way, thankfully. I might have needed another aspirin.
I continued, “Now all you have to do is learn how to lift the paper.”
The aura stopped, and Rosy stared at me, eyes wide. There was that pout again. I really shouldn’t have told her that part...
“You really had to remind about that, huh?” she demanded in a fussy tone before sitting down angrily and crossing her hooves.
“Oops.” My face reddened. Hers did, too, but more in frustration than in embarrassment.
There was a long, awkward and steaming silence until I decided to make her happy again. “Um, I saw that note your mom wrote.” I sucked at starting conversation.
She looked up. Her eyes were red and puffy. “W-what about it?” she insisted quietly. Even her voice was scratchy from the crying she was most likely doing. My heart fluttered inside of me like a frightened moth.
“Are you sure you’re happy about the lessons like she said?” I asked cautiously, taking a few steps toward her. “You haven't been acting it the last few days.”
She nodded, but I could tell she was lying. Living with Spike long enough had made it to where you could never fib in my face.
“Tell me the truth, Rosy,” I demanded in the softest voice I could manage, sitting next to her.
“I’m not lying!” If looks could kill, I’d have dropped dead right there. She was shooting icy daggers at me with her eyes.
I eyed her suspiciously.
“It’s not you that’s making me so upset!” she said with a sniff or two. “It’s my mom. She’s been worrying this past week. She hasn’t been doing as much as she has before, and can’t even walk into a lighted room without going into a bout of pain! It’s driving me crazy and pushing me out of focus!” The tears started rolling down her cheeks with no regrets. “I’m so sorry, Twilight,” she whispered.
I pulled her into a gentle grasp and began to stroke her mane. If her hair wasn’t pulled up I was sure it would be soaking with salty tears already. “Shh...” I murmured, bringing my mouth close to her ear. “It’s okay...” I wasn’t gifted with motherly skills, but I tried my best.
The sounds of her crying was what my breaking heart sounded like by now. I hadn’t met a filly who had been through something like this before. And she had kept it inside all this time without saying anything. I held so much respect for her knowing she had remained joyful up until this moment.
This lasted for a few more grieving minutes before she pulled away and rubbed her eyes. “Can... can we try levitation again, Twilight?” she asked with a smile.
Returning the emotion, I gladly replied, “Of course.”
Books Are Heartwarming Things
“Twilight! Twilight!” Even before she entered the library, I could hear Rosy’s excited voice through the door. “I have great news!” And whatever she wanted to tell me was important enough to wake me up at 8:30 in the morning.
She barged through the door just as I was walking down the stairs groggily, rubbing my eyes with a hoof. “Twilight!” she repeated again.
“What is it, Rosy?” I said, my body finally deciding to reawaken.
Rosy looked like she would burst through the ceiling with her great energy any second. “My mom told me that she felt well enough this morning to have you come over for breakfast!” she exclaimed.
I gasped. “You’re serious? She said in her note that she wasn’t in such a good condition.”
She shook her head. “That was five days ago, Twilight. And you do know that there’s chemotherapy treatment for cancer, right?”
I wasn’t about to question why she knows what chemotherapy is. This was the moment I could really get to know Rosy’s family. Judging by the note Sweet Cheeks had sent a few days ago, she was wanting to see me just as much as I hoped to see her. And now it was finally happening.
I told Spike to take care of the library for an hour or two, then left the library with a bouncing Rosy leading the way.
Some ponies turned their heads and stared as they saw me with a foal. It wasn’t expected for me to have a filly, let alone be walking around with one. Rosy seemed to ignore them, but their eyes put a tingling sensation all over my fur and I attempted to ignore them.
We continued along the streets until we wandered into an area of Ponyville I never really payed attention to. There were less ponies crowding the road. The buildings had gotten a bit taller and wider, but not at a Manehatten level. I could tell from first glance that we were at the apartment section.
“We’re almost there!” I turned my attention back to Rosy as she excitedly turned down the road.
We continued our little journey until she stopped at a house. It wasn’t any different from its surrounding buildings; all I could see that was unique was that the front plate said 8-A. Rosy promptly went through the door without knocking and I followed silently.
I shut the door behind us and the sense of hospitality brushed into my face. The hallway we were in was dimly lit, and the smell of pancakes and daisy salad wafted through the house, mixed with the scent of strawberry candles. Framed pictures hung on the walls. I froze and examined one of them.
On the right of the blank background was a scarlet pegasus stallion. He had peaceful, wise brown eyes and contrasting white hair. His cutie mark was a scroll and a rose crossed in an X, which sparked the curious part inside of me.
Next to him was a pretty, sky blue unicorn mare with dark purple eyes. Her short, curled blonde hair was pulled back with a black headband-hair bow combo. Her cutie mark was a mirror.
Lastly, held in one of her hooves was a filly wrapped in a white blanket. She was a calming pink and had yellow curls around her face.
I took a longer look at the picture and my heart almost spiked up my throat.
That baby was Rosy Cheeks herself.
“Come on , Twilight!” Rosy insisted, frowning at my lack of attention. Apologizing, I reluctantly peeled my eyes away from the picture and followed her through the hall and into another room.
The room was actually two rooms without a wall separating them. On the left was the kitchen, and on the right were couches and other homey little items. Then I saw who I was waiting for.
Sweet Cheeks, I had soon figured out, was the mare in the photo; it should have been obvious before. She was light blue with purple eyes. The only difference was that she had no hair. But me, being the non-judgemental pony I am, didn’t mind and followed Rosy over to her with a smile.
Sweet turned around from her cooking and grinned when she saw me. “Good morning. You must be Twilight,” she said. Her voice was soothing and made me lose any doubts I could have had before. “Welcome!”
I shook her hoof and said, “Thank you for having me over. I didn’t think I’d even have the chance to!”
She chuckled. “Well, I’m glad I’ve been feeling up to my game this morning,” she said and flipped the pancake on the griddle. “Have a seat and we can talk for awhile.”
I turned and sat down in one of the chairs at the table. Rosy struggled to climb into hers, but eventually made it and sat patiently for her meal.
I began to wonder how such a wonderful and beautiful mare was cursed with such a terrible disease. Not only that, but having a little foal going through the same thing was heart wrenching as well. And, seeing as how there was no father spoken of or seen, something must of happened to him as well. Poor Rosy and Sweet.
Sweet soon returned with a plate of pancakes and a bowl of daisies mixed with fresh fruits. She set them on the table with golden magic and sat across from Rosy and I.
“So,” I began, not thinking about what I was going to say. “what’s with that picture on the wall and what happened?”
Sweet froze mid-sip and stared at me, and I instantly regretted my words. I looked over at Rosy, who had just finished swallowing her pancake bite and took in a sharp breath of nervousness.
Whoops.
Books Are Heartwarming Things
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry for asking!” I was a babbling idiot and wasn’t really helping my situation at all. “I just didn’t know and-”
Sweet magically put down her mug of coffee and put a hoof up to pause my talking. “It’s okay Twilight,” she said with a heavy sigh. “You didn’t know.”
I continued, “I was talking without thinking of the consequences! I’m sorry.”
Rosy was the only one who was remaining silent. She was looking from me to her mother in an awkward stare, shocked and worried at the same time.
“Did you want to hear what happened?” Sweet said slowly, not knowing if it was a good idea or not.
I contemplated this. “Do you want to tell me?”
“You’re going to learn at some point, so I might as well,” she replied with a shrug.
“A few years after I turned 18, I met and married a wonderful stallion named Crimson Roses. He was a poet, and had proposed to me by reading a poem. He was a great pony and we had been together for about 3 years.
“Around the time that I got pregnant, we found out that Crimson had a heart disease. We didn’t even know what it technically was, and he was getting sicker and sicker as the days flew by. I had even given birth and he still hadn’t gotten better.
“I knew that his time was coming up when he had a heart attack out of nowhere and had to be taken to the hospital. It nearly made me give birth right there, I was so scared and surprised.
“It was a few hours of suffrage and tears before he finally... let go.” Her voice choked with tears and I wanted to make her stop there and get off of the topic altogether, but she cleared her throat and continued. “I was told by the doctor to try to move on so I didn’t put stress on the foal, and I had, but painfully. I had to go to a psychiatrist to help me calm down.
“As Rosy got older, I realized how much she reminded me of Crimson. She looked so much like him, in some ways others didn’t notice.”
Rosy looked up from her meal when she heard her name being said. “What?” she asked through a mouthful of daisies. Sweet just smiled at her.
“So,” she concluded. “Rosy and I have been living together in this rented apartment for the last... 7 years now, is it?”
My heart thudded rapidly in my chest as this processed through my mind. I didn’t have anything to say for 2 whole minutes. When I caught my words, I said what first came to mind. “He must have been a great pony.”
Sweet nodded. “You know, he wrote the poem “Spring’s Song”,” she said, and the title grabbed my attention immediately. It might have been a recent one, but it was very popular and was meaningful to many a pony.
“Are you serious?” I cried, my smile wide.
Sweet chuckled. “I knew that would interest you. I’m very serious, Twilight. I helped him edit it, after all.”
The surprises just kept coming. Either she was trolling with me or she was right. “Are you sure?” I asked.
“How would I not be sure about something my husband wrote?” she queried, then smirked. Rosy was grinning from ear to ear, knowing her father had done something awesome. Why had the little booger hidden such a secret away from me?
“You learn something new everyday then,” I said, then started eating again.
“I suppose you do,” Sweet agreed, then sipped some of her coffee.
It was a few minutes until everypony had finished eating and moved to the living room. Rosy sat on the couch with her mother, while I was on a chair not but a few wingspans away from them. We had rolled into casual conversation.
“How did you get your cutie mark?” I asked Sweet, gesturing to the mirror on her flank.
She gazed at her mark. “Oh, this?” she said. “I had done somepony’s hair really well and made them feel good about themselves in, like, kindergarten. Not a very engaging story.” She smiled nervously at me like she was sorry for not having an exciting backstory like I did.
I chuckled. “I’m sure it was exciting at the time.”
At the mention of time, I looked at the clock and almost gasped. It was almost 12. “I’m sorry, but I need to go,” I said, standing from my chair and staring at them apologetically.
Sweet and Rosy got off of the couch. “Would you like Rosy show you the way home?”
Before I could reply, the filly ran out of the hallway, calling to me, “Come on, Twilight!” I shrugged, bid a farewell to Sweet, saying that I hoped to meet her again next week or so, and followed Rosy out the door.
Our walk to the library was silent, besides Rosy’s random exclaims of happiness or laughter, and it didn’t take long for us to get back.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” I said, opening the door. I was about to go in, but something attached to my hind leg that I couldn’t shake off, and I had to stop walking and look.
Rosy was hugging my leg, a warm smile across her face. “Goodbye, Twilight,” she sighed softly. “I love you.” I didn’t have the chance to respond; she got off and ran in the direction of her house.
Her words struck me hard. Did she really love me? Sure, I shared a common love between friends with her. I loved a lot of ponies in that way. But perhaps she meant like a love she gave to her mother as well...
I shook that thought away, knowing it most likely just Rosy being a filly, and walked inside the library.
Books Are Heartwarming Things
“I’m here!” I gasped, running through the double doors and pausing. There were stares from all around the room, excepting Sweet Cheeks’. It took a moment for me to realized I had interrupted a sad silence, and I lowered my voice. “I mean... I’m here.”
Doctor Stable walked over to me with a somber frown. I could look into his eyes and tell that it was worse than I thought. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Sparkle.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t stop staring at the two ponies from behind him. Sweet was laying on the bed, and Rosy was next to her with a pack over her flank.
“Mrs. Cheeks has been like this for the past three hours. She went into a coma and she hasn’t woken up,” he said, then whispered the next part. “We’re not even sure if we will, but we haven’t tried telling Rosy this.”
My heart jumped. I walked over to the table slowly like something would go wrong if I ran. Rosy didn’t look up at me, as her focus was directly on Sweet’s and nopony else. I didn’t know if she was listening to me, but I talked to her anyways.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” I said quietly. “There’s no need to-”
Rosy apparently had been listening and her red, puffy eyes snapped up to mine. “How do you know everything’s going to be fine?” she demanded, close to tears. “Obviously she’s not fine, and I have no idea if she will ever be again! Don’t tell me everything’s going to be fine when you have no clue!” She looked back at her mother.
I hate to admit, but she was right. I had no clue if she would wake up. Never experiencing cancer before would prove as a problem, and I couldn’t try to comfort her again. I hadn’t the slightest idea what she was going through, and talking about wasn’t helping. I sat down and didn’t say a word unless spoken to.
Which was rare.
I grazed over Sweet’s body. She had all sorts of tubes and wires attached to her legs. Her breathing seemed painful; it was sharp and quick, barely making a sound. In fact, the only thing that was making a sound was the breathing machine next to her. It was the one thing that was keeping her alive for now.
Minutes that felt like hours drained by before Doctor Stable walked over. He had a needle filled with dark liquid that was hooked up to a tube dangling from his mouth and was ready to put in in Sweet’s chest, but Rosy stopped him.
“What are you doing?” she cried, wrapping a hoof over her mother’s heart. I didn’t try to remove her or anything, making the situation worse.
Doctor Stable sighed and said in the nicest tone he could muster, “I’m just giving her some food, Rosy.”
“In her chest?”
“Well, she can’t use her mouth,” the doctor pointed out.
Rosy frowned. “Oh,” she muttered, and let go. The needle was inserted and even I had to close my eyes so I couldn’t watch.
I had to give it to Rosy. She hadn’t shed a visible tear ever since I had came in, even though the breathing machine was beeping evidently slower and slower. She had bravery I didn’t, and I knew she would grow up to be a strong, beautiful mare.
Rosy suddenly reached into her saddle bag, bringing me back into harsh reality. She brought out a book I greatly remembered us reading. Goodnight, Luna. It was a good book and all, but I didn’t know why she had taken it with her. She didn’t honestly expect me to read it without choking, did she?
“Mr. Doctor,” she said, and Doctor Stable came over without hesitation.
“Yes, what is it, dear?” he said in a genuine tone.
“Can I sit down next to her? On the bed?”
Doctor Stable glanced at me for assistance, but I shrugged. How was I supposed to know what to say?
“I don’t see why you can’t,” he finally said. If Rosy was in the mood, she would have squee’d. But she just smiled at him warmly with a child’s innocence and hopped gently onto the bed by Sweet’s side.
Using her magic, she opened the book and, to my surprise, began reading aloud.
“In the great green room,
there was a scroll
and a red balloon,
and a picture of
The cow jumping over the moon,
And there were three little bears sitting on chairs.”
I couldn’t believe it. She was reading to a pony in a deep coma who most likely couldn’t hear her. But, not wanting to crush her little spirit and heart, I stopped and listened when nopony else would or could. I wasn't about to stop her. She looked over at me as she turned the page and continued with the story.
“And two little kittens and a pair of mittens
And a little toy house and a young mouse,
“And a comb and a brush and a bowl full of mush,
And a quiet old mare who was whispering "hush."
“Goodnight room, goodnight room,
Goodnight cow jumping over the moon.
“Goodnight light and the red balloon,
Goodnight bears, goodnight chairs.
“Goodnight kittens and goodnight mittens,
“Goodnight clocks and goodnight socks,
“Goodnight little house and goodnight mouse,
“Goodnight comb and goodnight brush,
“Goodnight nobody, goodnight mush,
“And goodnight to the old mare whispering "hush".”
“Goodnight stars, goodnight air,
“Goodnight noises everywhere.”
She put down the book and gazed over to her mother, ever unresponsive. My throat cracked as I attempted not to tear up as Rosy realized she wouldn’t get up and collapsed onto her mother’s body. "Goodnight, Mama," she cried into her mother's blankets.
Through her muffled sobs I could hear things along the lines of “Momma, come back” and “I’m sorry,” and I finally decided to act. I wrapped my hooves around her, and was surprised that she didn’t push me away.
The machine let out a long, satisfied “beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.” I wanted to throw the machine against the wall, but my mind told me otherwise and I continued to hold her closer.
Doctor Stable came over. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone completely unaltered, and it took all of my strength not to kick him out of the hospital room.
It had all felt a bit rushed. It had been, what, only three or four months? And Sweet was already gone. I felt a pang of pity nopony was around to take care of her anymore. It got worse when I figured I couldn’t do it, what with all of the work at Golden Oaks and already caring for Spike. I pulled her closer and tried to put out the sound of the machine.
I was glad I had failed to manage to. There was a sudden light beep, and I jumped in my skin. Was the machine broken or something? It wouldn’t just beep if somepony was dead, right? Unless.
There was another, then another, until it was at a normal and steady pace. I looked over at Doctor Stable, who was in as much awe as I was. Rosy had stopped crying and was staring down at her mother in utter confusion.
Sweet’s tired, wise amethyst eyes fluttered open, and Rosy started to squeal. I had to calm her down before she started stomping and jumping in excitement. all over her somehow alive mother.
The doctor finally decided to speak. “It’s a miracle!” he said, and I had to agree. No matter how unrealistic it sounded, I had to agree. Sweet was alive, and that was all that mattered at the moment.
“Twi... Twilight,” Sweet managed, trying to sit up. “Why are you all staring at me like that?” She looked at her surroundings. “Why am I in the hospital? Am I dead?”
I shook my head, containing my laugh. “No, the exact opposite,” I said. Before I could guess an explanation, Rosy broke in.
“You were almost dead and I read you that book and now you’re ALIVE!” she nearly screamed. She pulled Sweet into a hug and they shared a heart melting moment together.
I glanced over at Doctor Stable, who was crying into a damp tissue, and chuckled.
*~*~*
I seriously have no idea how that happened, even to this day. It was a miracle, like Doctor Stable said. I can’t explain miracles.
Rosy’s alive and well, and had even found herself a husband who doesn’t have cancer. I think he’s a poet or something, I can’t remember right now.
To my surprise, Sweet’s still alive, and in Ponyville’s nursing home. It’s a better place than an apartment, to say the least.
I’m still trying to figure out how she woke up. Maybe it was something the doctor put inside that food, or the breathing machine, or something. Not anything cheesy like love, I can assure you that.
Maybe it was the book? Perhaps. If it was, I just have to say this.
Books sure are heartwarming things.
Books Are Heartwarming Things
Deleted Scene 1: Hard to Explain
After a long day of teaching Rosy how to throw things, I lumbered up the stairs tiredly. It was only 6:15, but when you were trying to make it where a filly stopped hitting your owl in the face with a pen, it tended to be tiring.
Not much to my surprise, Spike was still awake reading a book in his bed. When I entered the room, he looked up at me with a smile. But I could see past his smile that he was both concerned and confused about Rosy.
“Why are you doing this?” he finally asked.
The question caught me off guard. “What do you mean?” I asked, walking closer to him.
"Why are you caring about a pony that you barely even know?" Spike said a bit louder and put the book on the ground, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
I realized then that I had hardly given him notice lately. Unless he was doing some chores for me or putting up some books, I didn't talk to him very much. Being with Rosy had really changed my life with him, hadn't it? But I ignored my thoughts and focused on his question. "I'm just trying to be nice," I said calmly.
Spike wasn't so calm. He said sharply, "I think you're trying too hard! When was the last time you spent time with me, huh?"
"Well, I..."
"And your friends! When was the last time you remember talking to them?"
I stomped my hoof. "I still talk to them!"
"I mean quality time," Spike argued. He looked like he was straining to hold in his wanting to get up and fuss at me even more, and I suddenly felt way worse about myself.
I sat next to him. "Oh, Spike, I'm really sorry about this. It's just that sometimes it's nice to help others. Something small can do something really big," I said, then went into thought for a second. I had to find the right words. "You know how Rarity has the Element of Generosity, right?"
He hesitated, then looked over at me and nodded.
"I'm trying to be generous as well. And I'll try not to let it get in the way of my relationships," I replied quietly. I pulled him into a hug. "Especially ours."
I could sense the idea running through his head. But since I had neglected him for so long, I didn't really think he'd forgive me.
But this was Spike we were talking about. Once he contemplated it long enough, he gave back the hug with a tight embrace. "All right," he said.
