Chapter 1

Pinkie’s Love Poem

P is for Pinkie

and also for poet,

So that’s what I will be

for you, wouldn’t ya know it?

Twilight Sparkle, buddy,

you are my best ever friend,

if you were ever muddy,

to clean you off two hours I would spend.

A three-ton steel door I would shove through,

just to prove how much I love you.

Hugsies,

Pinkie

A quill was dangling from her mouth and her front hooves held up her head by the cheeks as she looked back over her poem. Pinkie felt dissatisfied with it for reasons she couldn’t say. She’d felt the inspired to write Twilight a love poem since she’d last visited Zecora and been especially charmed by her rhyme-speak. Now had devoted most of her spare time since to it. She’d been working on the poem for almost five minutes now and it still wasn’t ready. Gee whiz, it was so much harder than it looked.

It occurred to her abruptly what the problem was. While it was a fine, fun thing that she would have been delighted to receive herself, it wasn’t right for her beloved. A bookworm probably had read stacks of poems in her day from some of Equestria’s best poets, and probably she’d want something more up to those standards. She had the impression that Twilight’s preference was for studying history, so she probably would have a taste for old-timey
poems in particular. And what better place to get a good selection of poems to use for inspiration than Twilight’s own library! Excited by her epiphany, Pinkie put the quill away, sealed the ink jar, tossed her rejected poem in the Sugarcube Corner furnace, and went bounding for the Ponyville Library.

At the library, Twilight was dusting some shelves with a bit of cloth over her muzzle to help deal the clouds of allergens. Spike had taken the day off from an extreme vulnerability to the dust and taken a book with him about someone called Saint George, saying that so far it was a great read although he was wondering when the title character was going to show up. She was singing to herself as she moved feather dusters over shelves with magic and hooves.

“I been through the desert on a human with no name, it felt good to be out of the-” She heard somepony coming in and stopped singing immediately. Looking down, she was a little relieved to see it was Pinkie, a pony that seemed to have a natural immunity to the discomforts of dust. “Hi, Pinkie! What’s new?”

“Hey Twi, could you do me a huge favor and help me find a book?”

“Certainly! Just give me a second to finish up here!” She doubled her dusting speed and let her various dusters drop onto the shelves as she came over to her friend. Pinkie was looking around the many shelves looking a bit unsure.

“Would books of love poems be under ‘L’ or ‘P’?” She asked. Twilight was taken aback that her friend had come with an interest in that kind of book, but then she smiled knowingly.

“What’s made a filly’s mind turn to thoughts of love?”

“I want to write a very special poem for a very special somepony!” Twilight positively beamed, relishing the possibility of gently needling her usually most unflappable friend.

“Oh! And who’s the lucky pony whose heart you wish to compose your way into?” As she said this Twilight attempted the sort of melodramatic flourishes that came naturally to Rarity as she attempted to make Pinkie squirm, but when she was done, Pinkie didn’t look the least embarrassed.

“It’s a secret!” She said.

“You can tell me.” Twilight said, going back to normal.

“Nope.”

“I Pinkie Pie Swear I won’t tell anypony.” She then recited the Pinkie Pie Swear.

“That will be really easy for you since I’m not telling.” Pinkie remembered something useful to getting the subject dropped. “Besides, you already blabbed about Spike’s crush on Rarity.”

“Touche.” Twilight decided that she both wouldn’t be able to get anything out of her friend or cause any fun embarrassment and so decided to move on. “Poem’s are over here in the 800 section with all the literature. I don’t have any books on how to write it, but I have some great collections.” The pair trotted and bounced over to the aforementioned section, whereupon they began thoughtfully considering the collection.

“These poets have funny names.” Pinkie said. “Will-i-am? Em-ill-y Bronco? Car-roll?”

“Oh, that’s just a trendy artsy thing. They a lot of them even have three-word names! Now let’s see,” Twilight pondered, “Edgar Allen Poeny has some beautiful ones, but they’re mostly pretty sad, too. Oscar Widle N. Crazy didn’t write the sort of poems you give to somepony right away... Hmm.”

“OOOH!” Exclaimed Pinkie as she reached for one. “Here’s a collection by somepony named Lovecraft! With a name like that, those must be exactly the type of poems I need!”

“NOnonono!” Twilight said, pushing Pinkie’s hoof away from the book. “Those are... well, we’ll save that for later.” When she looked back at the shelves, her eyes locked right on the book she’d been looking for without knowing it.

“Here we are! Henry Wadsworth Longfilly! I don’t know if the pony you’re writing for will like it, but he’s one of my favorite. Especially ‘The Evening Star!’ His prose, his imagery, his passion, mmmmmmm.” Twilight purred as she rubbed her cheek on the book. After a moment, she opened her eyes to the sight of Pinkie looking very mildly perturbed at her, and then levitated the book over to her. “Does that sound good?” Pinkie brightened again.

"It sounds perfect! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, but I’m just doing my job.” Twilight took the book over to the desk and checked it out to Pinkie, still smiling after Pinkie had bounded away with it and she resumed dusting the shelves.

THE NEXT MORNING

Though your name is Twilight,

you are the greatest light I’ve ever known.

Though your name is only Sparkle,

the sun has never brighter than thee shone.

All the many things that make you you,

they warm my soul to ponder.

The reverse of the old saying is true,

Your presence makes the heart grow fonder.

Now and Forever,

Pinkie

Twilight lowered the parchment that Pinkie had left on her desk, her eyes wide and the corners of her mouth having almost plummeted off her face in mortification. She had literally never read anything in her life that made her feel so uncomfortable. That it had come from Pinkie of all ponies made it so much worse. The day that ponies would in keeping with the holiday spirit exchange notes, candies, and other tokens of innocent affection was months away in winter. It did not sound in the slightest like this was just a joke.

“Good morning,” Spike said as he walked up to her, bags under his eyes and a half-eaten breakfast emerald in his right hand. He saw Twilight’s expression and knew that she was going to be lost to the world for the moment, so he looked around for a potential cause of her shock. He saw the parchment and had picked it up and read it before Twilight regained her senses enough to slowly turn her head to him. Spike was grinning up at her wickedly. He’d been bummed yesterday by how the story of St. George had ended and needed to have fun at someone else’s expense.

“Twilight and Pinkie,” He started singing, ”Sitting in a tree...”

“Stop it right now, Spike!” Twilight commanded, which just motivated Spike to keep going.

“K-i-s-s-i-n-MPF!” That was as much of the song as he could finish before Twilight’s magic brought up a cloth which she stuffed into his mouth and tied around the back of his head..

“I’m not about to be k-i-s-s-i-n-g anyone, especially not up in any trees!” After pausing a moment to fume at Pinkie’s sheer nerve, she stomped out of the library and began making her way to Sugarcube Corner. How could Pinkie have the nerve to just up and inflict something so, so... serious on her like this out of the blue? She was halfway there and had already scared half a dozen ponies out of talking to her before she began to calm down, and started to trot instead of engaging in more angry stomping. She was three quarters of the way there when her frame of mind began to change from being angry at Pinkie to feeling regret over what she was going to do. Ugh, she was one of her best friends of several years and the only pony for some time that had shown the nerve to express feelings like this. And now she was going to have to subject her friend to the painful process of “friendzoning.” But so be it.

When Twilight was outside of the bakery, she paused to reflect on how yesterday she had clearly helped Pinkie in the writing of this poem. Asking someone how to write a poem to you woo them sounded like a very wrong thing to do. It was like a type of cheating. Not being very experienced with matters of the heart, she’d worked herself back up into a state of irritation as she went inside.

She saw her offending friend behind the counter currently serving an elderly pony. The gold coins were being dropped in the till and whatever goods she was purchasing were already bagged, but the customer was babbling to Pinkie as if she’d forgotten that she was in a bakery.

“... and then I remembered that I’d always had a purple goldfish. ‘ Course, it wasn’t always that kind of purple. It used to be more what you’d call violet.”

“You don’t say!” Said Pinkie, faking interest extremely well. She must have seen Twilight out of the corner of her eye because she made a happy little wave to her out of the customer’s line of sight. Not feeling in the mood to impose, Twilight waved back with an awkward smile, and subsequently began irritably browsing the inventory.

Twilight found a breakfast pastry and brought it to the counter. When she arrived there, the old lady pony spontaneously turned and left, forgetting her purchase until Pinkie called her back. After she was out of earshot, Pinkie turned to Twilight with a big smile.

“What can I do ya for?” Pinkie said, and then giggled. Twilight felt that joke was in especially bad taste under the circumstances. She plopped the pastry on the counter, waiting for Pinkie to bring up the poem. She completed the transaction with only a few vapid statements about the weather and other stuff ponies in customer service jobs are required to say. Twilight sighed as the bagged pastry was hoofed back to her.

“I read your poem.” She said as if she had found compromising photos in Pinkie’s bedroom. Pinkie continued smiling but the uncertainty was obvious in her eyes.

“Oh, did you like it?”

“More important than whether I liked it or not.” Twilight continued, keeping her emotions under control even as Pinkie’s eyes widened in shock. “What matters is that it would not work out.” Pinkie’s jaw dropped. As she gathered it back up, tears seemed to be very quickly welling in her eyes.

“You mean... we can’t...” Twilight nodded gravely. “E-e-excuse me a sec.” Pinkie dashed into the back store room and bawled for a few moments. That out of her system, she dried her eyes and dashed back to the counter.

“I’m sorry.” Twilight said.

“But why? I tried my best with that poem, I didn’t think it was that bad!”

“It’s not about the quality of the poem.”

“Then why would it mean that we can’t be friends anymore?”

“Because it wou- wait, what?”

“You’re telling me we can’t be friends anymore and I don’t get it!” Pinkie said, almost needing another trip to the back store room, “Is this a prank? Don’t prank me about our friendship!” Twilight just stared bewildered.

“But you wrote me a love poem...” Twilight said after a bit of time to ponder.

“Yes, a poem to express how I love you as a friend! I love all my bestest best friends!”

“Ooohh dear.” Twilight said.

“You haven’t answered me.” Pinkie said as her friend searched for a best response.

“Uh, forget I said anything.” She took a step closer to the customer entrance, starting to turn to sprint out. “Good morning, Pinkie, hope you-”

“Wait,” Pinkie said, and then her eyes began to brighten with amusement. “You thought I meant that poem romantically!” Twilight’s eyes darted about from the fear that there was somepony, anypony else that would hear.

“What poem? I didn’t say anything about any poem!” With that, Pinkie burst out laughing uproariously. Even for the pony with the laughter element of harmony, it was ridiculous. Twilight did not like being the source of laughter unintentionally and tried to get Pinkie’s attention, but her shouts were drowned out by Pinkie’s own laughter. After a good two minutes, Pinkie’s laughs died down enough that Twilight yelled at her.

“And what is so funny about my coming to that conclusion?” Pinkie let loose a couple more chuckles, being nearly out of breath.

“Oh, oh, hehehehe, it’s partially *pant* *pant* relief. But the thought of the two of us, of all ponies, in a relationship.” She giggled again for a bit.

“Well, why didn’t you give it to me on the day every pony gives those?”

“Why *pant* because then it would be less special, just something to do because everyone else is doing it.. And besides, why wait to tell you that? I wouldn’t have thought you’d interpret it like that.”

“But, it wasn’t about friendship. It was about love. Any pony might think you meant a relationship!”

Pinkie screwed up the right side of her face in consternation.

“That’s how those poems you said you like do it!”

“But those were for between ponies that were in or wanted to start relationships!”

“Twi, you’re my friend forever, but the two of us in a relationship” Pinkie tried to think of the right way to say this to avoid offense. “... it just wouldn’t work. It’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t think it would be ridiculous. It might not work in the real world, but I can imagine it happening if we wanted to.” Twilight paused to imagine her and Pinkie in a relationship. She got completely carried away by it because her ego insisted that she couldn’t have jumped to a ridiculous conclusion. “We’re opposites, sure, but we’re both responsible, we both try to see things to the end. I could open you up to whole new magical worlds through stories and education, you could help loosen me up to a world of pleasure and parties. And you told me in the poem that I’m beautiful in your eyes and I find your eyes really...” Twilight’s awareness drifted back to her surroundings as she felt Pinkie’s eyes on her.

“You’re beginning to really weird me out.” Pinkie said. She realized her friend was right: she kind of was hitting on her friend. How’d it come to this?

“Uh, good point. BYE!” And Twilight ran out, hoping against hope that none of this would ever be mentioned again.

“Wait! You forgot your pa- oh, forget it.” Pinkie sighed and shook her head with a smile. Typical Twilight, taking everything too seriously. She was sure that Rarity wouldn’t overreact to the shorter poem that she’d embroidered for her. She was especially sure that Applejack wouldn’t think anything like that about the way shorter poem that she’d carved into an apple for her.

Postscript: In the unlikely event there are any readers that felt clopblocked by the preceding story, I apologize.

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