It was raining.
Twilight Sparkle knew this, and took full advantage of it. A warm mug of chocolate, a blanket and pillow, a crackling fireplace, and curling up in a large windowsill with an old favorite novel. The perfect way to enjoy the rain. It doesn’t need melancholy or grief for rain to mean something. It can be relaxing, soothing, lulling even. And she knew all of this, as well as Spike, who-Celestia bless him-decided to do a bit of pleasure writing. He curled up beside the fireplace, in his own blanket with his own pillow and a mug of hot chocolate as well. The sounds of his scratching with the quill Peewee had given him combined sublimely with the already soft cacophony of soothing noises.
The pony had always enjoyed the rain. Ever since she was but a filly in Canterlot, the rain just calmed her and helped her think. She knew it would end in disaster, but some days she just wanted it to rain forever. There was always something just… magical about it. And not magical like how she used her magic to take a sip of her chocolate, savoring the cream and marshmallows she poured into it, but rather a kind magical, a quiet magical, the type of magical that only happens when you accept what’s happening and just enjoy it. That’s the kind of magical it was to her.
Owlowiscious was there too, but he was asleep. The owl enjoyed the rain just as much as the other two, especially since he now had a dry place to rest his head when it was pouring. He was sleeping on a luckily placed shelf in the alcove Twilight was in, his eyes closed and his chest inflating and reducing every few seconds. A peaceful image, one she could have watched for hours if she felt so inclined.
Twilight always felt as if the rain did more than just water crops and cool the planet down. She had a fun little theory that rain had a real magical property that allows it to slow down time. She always joked about it, of course, but she also enjoyed pondering the theory on occasion as it seemed that rain just slowed the world down. It brought water, it brought cooler temperature, and it brought a slowness that only rain seemed to have. A sun-stricken day felt slow, but that was because it was a miserable one. A day filled with snow and the cold felt slow, but it always felt slow during winter. A day pouring with rain felt slow because… it just was. It slowed down, but the raindrops fell like leaves made of water and tranquility, striking the window in a pattern made nowhere else, nowhen else.
Twilight pondered what else rain could do. It could make one feel down, disheartened, depressed... melancholy, that’s the word. The feelings evoked by rain could be just as dour as they could be relaxing. She remembered a few things her Papa had told her when she was just a filly. If it rained while the sun was still shining, it was going to rain tomorrow as well. If it rained at night, you shouldn’t stay up late. If it rained at a funeral, the angels above were mourning as well. She had heard many things from her Papa, some not quite as friendly to her fellow pony as others, but almost all of them had still stuck with her to some degree.
One thing she always remembered though was from a time when she was just watching the rain with him, before she met Celestia and Spike. She was eight at the time, almost a year before she would take the entrance exam for the school. It was raining that day too, but not a droll, dreary day, it was a peaceful, quiet, relaxed day. Papa had a blanket that he had wrapped them both in and sat on his hindquarters, using his forehooves to hold Twilight. They had to have spent two hours just sitting there, watching the rain fall against the glass of his house, the crackle of the hearth behind them as it’s glowing fire snapped and popped with heat.
Sometimes he told her stories, or gave her advice, but that day he was quiet, the only sign that he was more than a statue being the rise and fall of his chest. If she was honest, Twilight missed those days, when there wasn’t the pressure of being the Princess’ personal student, or being the greatest magical prodigy this century, or being an Element of Harmony. Oh, make no mistake, she dearly loved her friends, but somedays they were more trouble than she thought worth putting into. Luckily today was quiet on all fronts, her friends not needing her that day-she dearly hoped they didn’t need her at some point that day-and Ponyville itself being the quiet, relaxing town its ruralness seemed to promise.
It was only just past two yet pondering with the rain and listening to its repeated taps on the window with the crackling of the fireplace and scratching of Spike’s quill was slowly lulling Twilight to sleep. To be fair, she had been reading for a few hours at this point and was growing fonder and fonder of the idea of just letting the rain take her away. Late night study sessions tend to not help one’s sleep after all. And so it was, setting a bookmark in her chosen novel, draining the last dregs of her chocolate, and curling up facing towards the window, Twilight fell asleep.
Spike set his quill down and got up in preparation to stretch his short legs and refill his mug of chocolate. He also took the time walking to the kitchen to massage his hand, now aching and slightly sore from doing nothing but writing for the past hour and a half. As he refilled his drink, his gaze wandered towards Twilight, who he now noticed was asleep in her windowsill. He set his mug on the countertop and waddled to her place of rest, reaching over to fluff her pillow and take the mug of chocolate she had finished. He laid a kiss on her forehead, just under her horn, and said, “Sleep well Twilight.”
The rain continued to pour.