• Published 1st Jul 2012
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Like an Unexpected Song - Donnys Boy



Can Twilight adjust her life’s blueprint to make room for the unexpected ... including Pinkie Pie?

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Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Only fragments came to her, disjointed impressions, sounds and visions, filtered through a haze of fury and of a magic raging out of control.

Blue eyes, wide with terror, terror of her. Pinkie’s eyes? The prince’s? She didn’t know. All that broke through the haze was the scent of fear, hanging in the air like a heavy perfume. That awful scent, paired with the knowledge that it was because of her, it was all her fault, just like everything, always, always ...

She felt tears stinging in her eyes.

Someone called her name. She didn’t know who. She wasn’t sure if she cared. Wasn’t sure if it even mattered.

The floor felt cold and hard against her hooves. Was she standing? She must have been standing now. So cold. She felt cold, deep down inside, though she didn’t understand why that should be so. Her head ached and throbbed with her anger, with her magic, and she had to shut her eyes against the pain. Had to try to regain some control.

Still someone was calling her name, and still she couldn’t hear. The voice was a mere whisper in the hurricane, lost to the howl of the wind.

She was afraid of what she might see if she opened her eyes. Afraid of seeing the fear, of seeing the anger, of seeing the disappointment. She was so afraid. So afraid.

“Twilight!”

Licking her lips, she opened her mouth to reply. But all that came out was a long, low whine.

“Twilight! The prince … the prince is gone! He left! Everything … everything’s okay, now.”

No, it wasn’t. Nothing was okay. Absolutely nothing had been okay for many, many months.

Her head hurt more than ever, and a pressure was building somewhere behind her eyes, a terrible, relentless pressure. It felt exactly the same as what she had felt once years and years before, in a palace so far away, when she was but a child. The exact same feeling she had back then, just seconds before she turned her parents into potted plants and a poor baby dragon into a towering giant.

Dangerous. Her magic was spinning dangerously out of control. She was spinning dangerously out of control. With all her might, she tried to clamp down on the energy flowing out from her, tried in futile desperation to rein it in before anyone could get hurt.

“Twilight?”

A new voice, now. One she recognized instantly.

It was the voice that had taught her not to fear the darkness, the voice that had told her to take a leap of faith, the voice that had urged her to smile, smile, smile. The voice that she cherished more than any other. The voice that belonged to a pony who Twilight Sparkle would protect with all that she had and all that she was.

Digging deep, she managed to find the strength for one more spell, for one last-ditch effort. She concentrated as hard as she could, even though doing so sparked another flood of pain that made her feel as though her skull was splitting right in two, and then at last she heard the tell-tale crackling sounds of imminent teleportation. She held on as long as she could, but all too quickly the darkness claimed her.

When she finally regained consciousness and opened her eyes, she found that she was in the library. Her head felt full of lead and twice as heavy. With a groan, she rested her chin against the hard, sturdy floor beneath her.


My dear Twilight,

Rarity said I should start this letter with “my dear Twilight” instead of something like “Hi, Twilight!” or “I really miss you, Twilight” or “How’re you doing, Twilight?” so that’s why I started by saying “my dear Twilight.” I’m kinda not really sure what I should say after that, though, and I’m sorry if this letter doesn’t make very much sense.

But you always say that I don’t make very much sense, so maybe it’s okay if my letter doesn’t make sense either? I hope it’s okay.

I really miss you. At least a dozen times a day, I think of something I wanna say to you, but I’m not sure if I should, so I don’t. It’s hard not saying things to you, though, Twilight. I got used to telling you things, all kinds of things, even things I never told anypony else.


“We can’t go showin’ that letter to Twilight!”

“Why, of course we can, darling! The letter is addressed to Twilight, after all.”

“If’n Pinkie wanted Twi to see it, then why’d she go and tear it up?”

“It was an error in judgment, quite obviously! One that we must now rectify!”

“Now you wait just one cotton-pickin’ minute there …”

With a quiet sigh, Fluttershy glanced over to Rainbow Dash. Rainbow sat less than a full wingspan away, perched atop of one of the mannequins in Rarity’s boutique as she scowled at the unicorn and earth pony standing across the room. Rarity and Applejack, meanwhile, seemed not to even notice the two pegasi as they were too busy squaring off against one another. Fluttershy wasn’t entirely sure whether to feel happy about that or not.

She also wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret the tight, tense expression in Rainbow’s eyes. Usually it was the kind of look that immediately preceded the hot-tempered pony yelling or throwing punches, but none of the other tell-tale signs were present. Dash’s shoulders were loose and relaxed, and her wings were calmly folded at her sides. It didn’t make sense.

“Rainbow?” Fluttershy ventured softly.

“This is dumb,” Dash muttered under her breath, throwing in an eye roll for good measure. “Here we are wasting time, when we should be working to get Pinkie and Twi back together.”

Fluttershy’s brow furrowed. “But I thought … I thought you were angry at Twilight.”

“Well, yeah! Not so much after today, maybe--what she did at the party was pretty radical, even I gotta admit--but just ‘cause I’m mad at Twilight for how stupid she’s been acting doesn’t mean I don’t still love the egghead.” She looked over to Fluttershy with a grin. “I mean, you still love me even when I do stupid stuff, right?”

Fluttershy could feel her face warm a bit and glanced down. She always adored it when Dash grinned at her like that--it was different than Dash’s other grins, more tender, more intimate. When Fluttershy glanced back up, a small smile was tugging at the corners of her own mouth.

Still grinning, Rainbow Dash leaned over and gave her a nuzzle. “And we both know Pinkie’ll forgive Twilight, just like you always forgive me … and that’s why you gotta go take Twilight the letter.”

“M-me? Why me?”

“Because Applejack’s been watchin’ me like a hawk, so there’s no way I’ll be able to sneak outta here myself.” Rainbow’s eyes cut over to the earth pony in question, who was still arguing hotly with Rarity some several feet away, before she continued. “But you, ‘Shy? You’re so super quiet, they’ll never even notice you’re gone ‘til you’re halfway to the library.”

Fluttershy frowned at that. She didn’t quite like all of the implications of that statement, but she also knew that Dash didn’t mean it how it sounded. She bit her lip. She thought Applejack had a point, actually, about Pinkie not wanting Twilight to see the letter. At the same time, Pinkie Pie undoubtedly wanted to get back together with Twilight, and Twilight Sparkle undoubtedly wanted to get back together with Pinkie, and showing the letter to Twilight could help that to finally happen.

Moreover, there was the simple truth that Fluttershy owed Pinkie. She owed Pinkie rather a lot. After all, it had been Pinkie Pie who’d orchestrated that pretend-fight between Rainbow Dash and Applejack, where Applejack had kicked Rainbow and Fluttershy had took the injured pegasus home, where Rainbow had thanked her and Fluttershy had stammered. Where Rainbow had kissed her, at long last, and Fluttershy had kissed her in return. Fluttershy had never let on that she knew--had simply let the two earth ponies and her fellow pegasus believe they’d pulled a fast one on silly little Fluttershy--but she knew.

She knew it was because of Pinkie Pie that she’d gotten Rainbow Dash.

“All right,” said Fluttershy, with a firm nod. “All right, Rainbow. I’ll give the letter to Twilight.”


Maybe there’s something else I should tell you. Do you remember the day we met? I saw you when you first got here, remember? You were all "hello" and I gasped really loud, remember? And I threw you a party so that you could have lots of friends, but there’s something you probably didn’t know. My very own first friend … was you.

It was you, Twilight. Before you came to town, I threw parties that everypony liked, but nopony liked the pony who threw the parties. Not really, anyways. Not like they do now. Not until you came, and we went on the adventure in the Everfree Forest--and then, suddenly, I had five really great, really super friends. You did that, Twilight. I never said thank you for doing that, I don’t think, but I should have.

So I guess I’ll say it now and hope it’s not too late. Thank you.


Twilight didn’t know exactly how long she lay in bed, just staring up at the rafters in the ceiling of the library, but it must have been hours. Spike came home at some point, and he spoke to her for a bit. Even touched her on the shoulder at one point. She couldn’t remember a word he’d said, but she could guess. He’d probably asked if she was all right. She’d probably told him that she was.

As Twilight lay there, she found herself noticing all the dust and cobwebs up in the rafters. She’d have to do some cleaning later. A clean home was a happy home, after all. That’s what her mother had always said, and her mother was usually right about such things. So, later she’d do some cleaning. When she was feeling a little better.

If she was feeling a little better.

Her musings were cut short by a soft knock from down below. Twilight’s heart skipped a beat, and she buried her head under her pillow and nestled deeper under the blankets on her bed. She knew better than to think she could hide in bed forever from her problems--she hadn’t seriously thought such a thing since she was a very small filly, indeed--but that didn’t mean that the temptation wasn’t there.

From under her pillow she heard the door creak open. Voices followed soon after, too low for her to quite hear, and then there were hoof steps on the ladder that led up to her lofted bedroom. Twilight remained as motionless as a stone. She held her breath, almost involuntarily, as though the near-silent sound of her breathing might betray her location.

“Twilight.”

Her mother. It wasn’t a surprise, and yet the utter predictability of the situation didn’t stop a bead of cold sweat from trickling down her neck.

“Twilight, I need you to tell me if you are all right. I need you to tell me right now. Do you need a doctor?”

She squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could.

“Twilight Sparkle, you will answer me.”

“N-no.” Twilight’s voice was barely above a whisper. “No, I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine.”

It was her father who spoke next, in a much gentler tone: “Sweetheart, would you please look at us? Please?”

Slowly the younger unicorn lifted the blankets and peeked out from under the safety of her pillow. Lady Star Sparkle stood just a few feet away, her face carefully neutral, while behind her Lord Nightlight Sparkle was gazing at his daughter with frank worry etched into his every feature. Twilight swallowed thickly and tried to will herself to not look away.

“We just wanted to let you know that we’ll be returning to Canterlot shortly,” continued Lady Star, her voice steady and sure, as she stared at a point somewhere above Twilight’s head. “Also, your engagement … your engagement has been called off.”

Twilight could only nod at that. It was hardly a surprise. “I imagine that’s the first thing that Prince Blueblood did. Cancel the engagement. I … I know you’re disappointed, and I wish I could say that I’m sorry about that.” She took a deep breath. “But I’m not. I’m not sorry.”

Lady Star said nothing but shifted her weight a bit, almost as though she was uncomfortable. It was odd for Twilight to see her mother do that--Lady Star always prided herself on her impeccable posture, but now, the older mare was almost slouching.

“Actually, Twilight,” said Lord Nightlight in quiet tone, “it was your mother who called off the engagement, not His Highness.”

Twilight blinked. And then blinked again. But even when she blinked for a third time, the words her father had just spoken still made absolutely no sense.

After shooting a pointed look in Nightlight’s direction, Lady Star cleared her throat. “As I said, we must be leaving, but we just wanted to check in on you to see how you were and to inform you as to the status of the engagement.” She turned, as if to go, but then paused. She glanced over her shoulder. “Twilight? Though I'll confess that I don't understand how it possibly could ... I hope this place makes you happy.”

“It does. Being in Ponyville has made me happier than I’ve ever been before.”

“I see.” The other mare’s eyes looked thoughtful, far off and distant, for a few moments. Then Lady Star gave a small nod. “I hope she makes you happy, as well.”

Smiling tentatively, Twilight nodded in return. “She does. She makes me so happy. Happier than I deserve, really.”

“I see,” repeated Lady Star, her facial expression still carefully, infuriatingly blank. She sighed and then, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin, walked over to the ladder. She began climbing back downstairs while her husband remained behind.

Lord Nightlight chuckled softly and trotted over to the bed. Leaning over, he deposited a quick kiss on Twilight’s cheek. “Do try to come visit us in Canterlot more often, won’t you? You know how Shining Armor misses you.”

Twilight shut her eyes and silently leaned against her father. Her throat felt tight and raw, and for some reason she couldn’t stop shaking.

“And perhaps the next time you visit,” the older stallion continued, his words cautiously spaced and infused with a studied casualness, “you could bring that little pink earth mare, hmm? I seem to recall that Cadance and Shining were both rather taken by her, and I’m sure they’d love a chance to see her again.”

“O-okay,” Twilight whispered, as the tears fell down her face.

“Excellent, excellent!”

And the very next moment, he was patting her awkwardly on the back, and she was averting her gaze and trying to hide her crying, and then he too was gone. She heard the door open and close once more. Less than a minute later, Spike was racing upstairs, his eyes huge and scared.

“What’d they say? Are they mad? Do we have to move back to Canterlot?” The words tumbled out of the dragon in a single breath. “Twi, are you okay? Why are you crying?”

Twilight simply pulled him close against her chest, into a nearly crushing embrace, and allowed herself to openly weep as Spike hugged her just as tightly in return. They sat on Twilight’s bed like that for long moments, in utter silence. The library was so quiet and so still that both pony and dragon gave a startled jump when yet another knock came from downstairs--a knock that was soft and timid and could only have come from a very particular pink-maned pegasus.


Rarity is sighing a bunch and keeps looking at the clock, so I guess I should probably finish this up soon. Earlier she asked me--Rarity asked me, I mean--she asked me if all I wanted from you was friendship.

The truth is ... I don’t just want to be your friend. I really, really don’t. I’m not sure I have enough words for all of the things I want--I’m not sure there’s enough words in all the books in all the libraries in Equestria for all of the things I want--because I want a whole bunch of things. I want to be there when you learn new magic spells and see that look you get on your face when you finally get the spell exactly perfectly right. I want to hold you when you’re sad and when you’re happy and all the other times, too. I want to kiss you every single day for the rest of forever, and forever is a really, really, really long time.

But mostly, Twilight, I just want to see you smile again. You haven’t been smiling very much at all when I’ve seen you around town the last couple weeks, so if being just-friends is what will make you smile, then that’s exactly what Pinkie Pie is gonna do. You can count on her! I mean, me!

Just please smile again. Please?

Your friend forever and always,
Pinkie Pie


Pinkie Pie’s face hurt in ways she’d never even dreamt possible before. She’d been smiling all day, at the Cakes and at customers, at Pumpkin and at Pound, and her cheeks felt like they were on fire. It was strange. Usually smiling didn’t hurt--usually smiling filled her up with a warmth that spread outwards from somewhere deep in her belly--but right here and now, smiling hurt a little more with every passing minute. Every single moment she kept that smile on her face made traitorous tears sting at the corners of her eyes.

She hadn’t seen Twilight Sparkle since yesterday. Since the single most disastrous party in Pinkie’s long and storied party-hosting career.

The other girls didn’t ask, and they didn’t pry. But they each made sure to drop by the bakery at some point earlier that day, with sad eyes and too-wide smiles. And Pinkie had to smile back at them, and it was terrible, and it cost her, but she didn’t have the heart to tell them that she couldn’t--

“Pinkie Pie!” Spike burst into Sugarcube Corner with flailing arms and a heaving chest. “Pinkie, you gotta come back to the library with me!”

Frowning, Pinkie set down her oven mitt and took a step out from behind the bakery’s counter. “Spike? Spike, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Twilight.”

Pinkie Pie had only Spike use that tone of voice once just a handful of times before, and her legs moved of their own accord. As she shouted an apology to Mr. and Mrs. Cake over her shoulder, she rushed out the door, scooping up Spike onto her back and galloping towards the library for all that she was worth. Her heart hammered in her chest with every step she took, and any doubts or apprehensions about seeing Twilight that might have plagued her just minutes before were drowned out by one single, overwhelming fear: Be okay. Oh, sweet Celestia, please be okay.

The sky above was dark with the approaching night as they raced across town, and Pinkie couldn’t help but notice every shadow and every dark alley along the way. At last they arrived at the library, and Pinkie paused to glance at Spike for instructions on what she needed to do.

The young dragon fidgeted with his hands a bit before nodding towards the library door. “I think … I think you better go in first, Pinkie.”

Swallowing hard, Pinkie nodded in reply. “Okie dokie.”

She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and then shoved open the door--only to find herself in a completely pitch-black room. “Twilight?”

There was a soft click, as the door was suddenly locked behind her.

“Twi-Twilight?”

A gentle purple glow sliced through the darkness and, a second later, a dozen candles around the library had been lit. Now that the room was illuminated, Pinkie could see Twilight Sparkle standing just a few feet away, her eyes burning more brightly than any flame could hope to burn. The unicorn’s mouth was set in a hard, determined line.

“Are you …” It took effort for Pinkie to speak in the face of the intense stare she was receiving from the mare before her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Pinkie. And I’m sorry for … for having Spike scare you like that. Actually, I’m sorry for a lot of things, and I don’t even know where to—” With a loud sigh, Twilight cut herself off and gave her head a shake. “No. No, no, no. First things first. Pinkie Pie, I have something I need to tell you.”

Almost involuntarily, the earth pony took a step back, her tail hitting the shut door. “O-oh, no, that’s okay, really, we don’t have to--”

“Pinkie!” Twilight’s voice rang out like a cannon shot. “Pinkie, I need to say this, and I need you to listen. Promise you won’t interrupt. Pinkie promise.”

Pinkie hesitated, just a moment, and her heart sounded as loud as a huge timpani drum in her ears. “I promise,” she replied, in a voice barely above a whisper. “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

Twilight Sparkle nodded at that, seemingly pleased. “I … I was scared. Of a lot of things. Oh, Pinkie, I was so scared, but …” She paused. Swallowed hard before she continued, “I’m sorry I was scared, and I’m sorry for all the things I did just because I was so stupid and afraid. But I’m not afraid anymore. Do you … would you like to know why?”

Pinkie could only nod numbly in reply.

And then, with those penetrating violet eyes still locked on Pinkie’s own, Twilight Sparkle began singing:

When I was a little filly
And the sun was going down,
The darkness and the shadows,
They would always make me frown ...

Pinkie Pie simply stood there, frozen, her stomach doing all kinds of crazy cartwheels that would put Rainbow Dash’s most outrageous stunts to shame.

I'd hide under my pillow
From what I thought I saw,
But Pinkie Pie said that wasn't the way
To deal with fears at all …

Twilight was smiling now, ever so softly. It was a new smile. A different smile. A smile that Pinkie couldn’t remember ever seeing before on that beautiful, beautiful face.

Slowly, carefully, the unicorn began approaching the stationary earth pony, as she continued singing.

She said, "Twilight, you gotta stand up tall,
Learn to face your fears.
You'll see that they can't hurt you.
Just laugh to make them disappear."

By now, Twilight was barely a breath away, those eyes and that smile taking up the entirety of Pinkie’s field of vision. Still Pinkie could not move, could not speak. And then, when Twilight’s lips gently brushed against hers, Pinkie felt those hot, hot tears, those tears which had been pricking at her eyes all day long, trickle down her cheeks at last.

Twilight tasted like hot sauce. She tasted like cupcakes. She tasted like rain on a warm summer’s afternoon. She tasted like a dozen daydreams and a dozen memories, and she tasted like a hundred hopes and a hundred fears. She tasted exactly like she did the very first time they’d ever kissed.

She tasted perfect.

When Twilight finally pulled away, Pinkie saw that Twilight was crying too. “When you’re standing next to me,” Twilight murmured, her voice breaking, “I don’t feel afraid. When you’re there … I feel like there’s nothing I can’t do, nothing I can’t be.”

Pinkie just smiled and reached up with a hoof to brush away the unicorn’s tears.

“I’m so sorry, Pinkie. I am so, so sorry. I can’t even begin to tell you how awful I feel about everything I've put you through.”

“Rarity … right?” Pinkie tilted her head, still smiling. “I mean, Rarity told you that you should sing me a song, didn’t she?”

Twilight nodded, a bit hesitantly.

“I thought so.” Pinkie laughed, and it felt good to laugh. It felt glorious, like letting all the air out of an overfilled balloon in one great whoosh. “Singing somepony a love song sounds a lot like a Rarity kinda idea.”

“Does that … does that mean you didn’t like the singing?”

Leaning forward, Pinkie nuzzled the unicorn’s cheek. “Oh, Twilight, I loved it! I’ve always loved it when you sing.” She shut her eyes and sighed. “I’ve always loved you, I think.”

A silence fell between the two ponies, joyous and sublime, as they leaned against one another. Then, very quietly, Twilight Sparkle whispered, “Marry me.”