//------------------------------// // Day 14 // Story: No Heroes: Life of Pie // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// Pinkie stared at herself in the mirror, taking a moment to brush back her curly mane. A deep breath. Another. Okay, Pinkie Pie, let’s see that smile. It came smoothly, with only a minor effort. At first, it was tremulous. Uncertain. Then, gradually, it grew into a grin. Something warm and fuzzy floated up through her tummy and into her head. It tried to escape through her eyes as moisture, but she brushed it away with a hoof. To be able to smile without forcing it was a greater feeling than she could ever remember having short of Fine singing a song for her. She reached out to press her hoof against the bathroom mirror, smiling into her blue eyes. “It’s good to be me again.” “They’re ready for you.” Pinkie turned to Fine, who was watching her with his own subdued smile from the bathroom door. He was already wearing his panniers. “I guess it’s time, hmm?” He nodded, stepping out to give her room. “We’ve got about an hour. Think it’ll be enough time?” “It will.” She walked past, pausing only to give him a peck on the cheek. Her panniers rested on the bed, packed and ready. It took only a couple seconds to put them on. Shifting her weight around to test the balance, she decided it was good enough and nodded to him. “Ready.” They left the room together, leaning against one another as they headed downstairs. In the inn’s main room sat some familiar faces around a couple of tables that had been pushed together. Petri Collate eagerly served one of his new breakfast soups to the ponies. Scilly sat at the end of one table, Cotton and PS settled on either side of her. They waved amiably as the two newcomers sat, Pinkie settling opposite Scilly and Fine next to Cotton. Cotton promptly produced a book and, with nothing more than a glance between them, Fine dutifully signed it. The mare hugged the book to her chest with a squee and carefully slipped it into her nearby bags. The Rock Bottom Inn’s owner finished serving the last bowl, then hesitated. He cast a glance at Pinkie, who sat up straight and pointed at the remaining seat by PS with a commanding look. Petri hesitated only a second longer before settling on the appointed cushion. Pinkie wasted no time, though her words were subdued. “We, um, we’re heading back to Ponyville today. I know I didn’t say goodbye properly before, and I wanted to do it right this time.” She stalled, not sure what else to say. Goodbyes had never been hard before. She tried to meet the gaze of any one of her friends, but a sick feeling made her fail every time. “And we’re glad to hear it,” PS said when she’d been quiet too long. “Pretty sure Scilly would have called her connections in the railroad to make the train turn around and bring you back.” Scilly raised her head in a prim pose. “I’d do it, too.” Smiling at their antics, Pinkie at last managed to look them in the eyes, one at a time. “And you’d be right to. You’re all my friends, and you deserve better than that.” Noting Petri’s hunched posture, she reached over to touch his foreleg. “You too, Petri. Don’t think I’m letting you off the friendship hook.” “She really does have a hook,” Fine warned in a conspiratorial whisper everypony at the table could hear. “She’s not gentle with it.” Scilly rested her chin on her fetlock and smirked at him. “Speaking from experience?” “Yes.” Chuckles filled the air, and Pinkie couldn’t resist joining them. “He was a tough case. Still a work in progress. But once Fluttershy got him straightened up a bit, finishing the job wasn’t all that hard.” Fine raised an eyebrow with an amused smile. “You make me sound like a dog in need of training.” “I think you mean ‘taming’,” Cotton threw in pleasantly, dodging his glance by focusing on her soup. “Woof, woof,” PS added with a smarmy grin. Pinkie leaned towards Fine but tilted her head away, eyes on the ceiling and masking her amusement with the best innocent look she could manage. “If you’re a good puppy, you’ll get a treat on the way home,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Will it taste like bubblegum and smell like strawberries?” Heat bloomed in her face, and only intensified with the laughter and whistles from the rest of the table. None of it could chip away at her grin. “Only if you’re really good.” As the giggles and cat-calls went on, Fine took on a dopey expression, settled into his cushion, sat at attention, and gave an obedient “woof.” Upon recovering from her giggles, Scilly said, “Can I borrow him someday? Fine would make a good demonstration to my husband and kids how a ‘proper’ coltfriend behaves.” Pinkie returned the grin. “Maybe, but I charge by the hour.” Once the laughter subsided, they all focused on their food. The breakfast soup didn’t last long, and Petri happily grabbed seconds for Pinkie, PS, and Scilly. Pinkie almost couldn’t believe how quickly the time passed. It was nice, being with her old friends. She couldn’t wait to find the right excuse to get them to Ponyville for a day or two. She shared banter with Scilly while PS and Petri discussed cooking techniques. On the quieter side of the table, Cotton and Fine were discussing literary classics. Everything was flowing nicely. It felt… normal. Like any casual meetup with her friends in Ponyville, only now without having to force her smiles when the conversations lagged. There was no subtle unease at knowing she was wearing a mask while they could all be open with her. It was invigorating, and Pinkie dove into the simple pleasure with aplomb. Alas, it could not last forever. “I hate to cut this short,” Fine said, rapping his hoof on the table lightly, “but we have a train to catch.” With a whine and a pout, Pinkie nodded. “Right. No more putting it off, then.” She reached into her mane and produced four letters. She tossed them into the air, and each landed on the table before one of her friends. “Those are for you guys. Please don’t open them ‘till we’re gone.” PS lifted his up to examine both sides. “What are they?” “Letters, silly. What else?” Getting to her hooves, Pinkie slipped her panniers back on. “Oh, and my address in Ponyville. If you ever need a Professional Party Pony, you know who to call.” Fine was already on his hooves and ready to go. “And, you know, if you just want to write, that’s good too. I promise, Pinkie won’t—” He rocked back as Cotton gave him a pouncing hug, eyebrows shooting up. “—mind?” “Oi,” Pinkie said with a playful shake of her hoof, “that’s my cuddle buddy! Get your own.” She then promptly hugged Petri as he was getting off his cushion. The two stallions shared wide-eyed expressions, as if each were asking the other ‘Is this okay?’ “Thanks for putting up with us,” Pinkie told Petri as she parted with him. “I know I can be a hooffull sometimes. Fine and me together can be a nightmare for some ponies.” He recovered quickly, giving her a grin and a hoofbump. “Are you kidding? You two were so good for business, I’ll let you stay on the house anytime. It was nice having a certified Party Pony staying here.” “And when we do come back, I’ll be off this soup diet,” she added, slowly licking her lips as she imagined all the tasty treats in her near future. “You’d better stock up on sugar and flour.” PS walked up to her at that moment and gave her a tight hug. Not Pinkie-Pie-tight, but pretty good for anypony not her. “It’s good to know you’re getting better, Pinkie. Real good. I’m glad you came back.” “Me too.” And she found she meant it. This trip didn’t go quite like she’d anticipated, but she couldn’t help thinking it had all turned out for the best. “I promise not to take so long to come visit this time.” “You’d better,” Scilly snapped, stealing Pinkie from PS’s hooves to give her own, significantly stronger squeeze. “Don’t make me book you for a birthday party just to get you back here.” Pinkie tilted her head back and raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t your birthday in three weeks?” Scilly blinked, then shrugged. “I meant my kids’ birthdays, but yes. Yes, it is. I’m amazed you remember that.” “Don’t be,” Fine called from across the table, interrupting his own goodbyes with Petri. “Pinkie Pie never forgets a birthday. Never.” Pinkie winced at that. “Remind me to tell you about this stallion who played the blues.” She brought her attention back to Scilly. “I’ll come visit you after you come visit me. It’s your turn, sister!” “Ponyville, huh?” Scilly shrugged with a smile. “Sure, why not? It’s only the most ridiculously named town in all of Equestria. I think I can tolerate it.” “If I can take it, so can you.” With that, Pinkie turned to the last of her friends. Cotton stood at the table’s corner, watching Pinkie approach with a warm smile. “Cotton, I’m serving you notice: you are not allowed to steal my stallion, no matter how good a writerpony he is.” Cotton heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Just my luck, all the good ones are taken. Guess I’ll be stuck minding my own business, living a carefree life as a bachelorette with no responsibilities to anypony but myself. Oh, the horror.” Giggling, Pinkie caught the mare in a hug. “Having a special somepony’s not so bad. You should try it sometime.” Her friend hummed, then whispered in her ear, “How much are you charging by the hour again?” Pinkie shoved her away playfully. “Oh, you!” The two shared a laugh, but sobered quickly. Cotton regained that calm, knowing gaze and looked towards Fine, who was talking to Scilly and PS at the same time. “He really is good for you. I’m glad you found him. I think you needed a pony like that in your life.” Following her gaze, Pinkie recalled all the little moments she and Fine had shared together. The bad moments. The good ones. The confusing and anxious and scary ones. She ran a hoof along the scar on her chest and smiled. “Yeah… “I think so, too.” They settled in their seat. Unlike the ride to Rockstead, this time they shared a bench. Fine even paid for his ticket this time. Pinkie had the window, but she kept nestled against Fine’s side as she waved to her friends. Fine watched her, ready for any potential crash that might come. Of course, he hoped there wouldn’t be one, but it paid to be prepared. With a blast of the horn and a lurch, the train started forward. Fine leaned back, one arm around Pinkie’s withers. She continued to stare out the window, her smile wistful, then fading. What was she thinking? He hoped the thoughts weren’t too negative. They’d done some good for themselves, but it would all be pointless if Pinkie didn’t get the closing she deserved. A ball of ice formed in his stomach as he studied her quiet, solemn reflection in the window. Pinkie pressed her hoof to the window and smiled. “Goodbye, Maud. Goodbye, Mom and Dad. Goodbye Limestone. Goodbye Surprise.” After a few seconds of quiet staring at the passing trees, she finally leaned back, nestling herself to Fine and humming. He gave her a light squeeze, wondering if the question on his mind was appropriate. But… no masks, right? “What about Marble?” Her eyes met his, then dropped back down. She ran her hooftip idly on the seat. “She’s with me now. I think she’ll be happier that way.” Fine wasn’t sure he understood, but he didn’t have to. If Pinkie was satisfied, then it was enough. But was it? “You think you’ll be okay now?” “Yes.” She answered smoothly, without hesitation, but also without a show of confidence. A plain, simple, direct response. “It might take me some time to adjust, but I think I’ll be right as rain soon. Thank you, Fine.” He almost asked ‘for what?’, but realized he already had a good idea. Nuzzling into her mane, he took in the scent of strawberries and relaxed. “I was glad to help.” They went quiet for a time, swaying with the train’s rhythmic motions. Fine couldn’t stop smiling. His thoughts drifted to that moment of hesitation and fear, standing with Octavia and watching as Pinkie got on the train. He’d been so clueless. Back then, the prospect of being with Pinkie had seemed a herculean mystery, a twisting road of unknowns and potential pitfalls. How close had he come to backing out of this in the preceding months? Closer than he cared to admit. His hoof traced along her side, feeling at the scars. His scars. The ones that made him feel so guilty. And yet, when his hoof brushed across them, Pinkie didn’t flinch. She cast him a smile, demure and all the more beautiful for it. It spoke of trust, of appreciation, of a certain quiet acceptance. When she tucked her muzzle up against his neck, the guilt faded away in a sea of contentment. A future with Pinkie Pie didn’t seem so strange anymore. If anything, it felt as though all the stumbles and missteps were leading him up to this moment of peace, a peace that she had given him and he hoped he granted her. He understood, without having to consider it, that this was right. That this would work. That their two souls, marred by respective pains and scars and fears, had collided for a reason. They fit. Oh, so wonderfully. Oh, so perfectly. They fit. “Pinkie?” “Hmm?” “Would you like to hear another song?”