//------------------------------// // Goodbye Doesn't Mean Forever // Story: Say Goodnight, Pinkie // by scoots2 //------------------------------// Rarity fully justified Pinkie’s confidence in her. The half-mile long brocade runner, trimmed with jewels and magically enhanced to unroll itself, was completed by early afternoon. It was stunning, but it had taken all of her gifts to bring it about: inspiration, drive to work towards a deadline, serendipitous finding of lovely materials, and formidable skill in social networking. The task certainly couldn’t have been finished without the influence and assistance of the Lord Chamberlain (Spike) and the Lord Chancellor (again, Spike.) After some initial designing at the Carousel Boutique, and the realization that, of course, she didn’t have the supplies necessary for a half-mile long brocade runner, she sent an urgent message to Fancy Pants. Fancy Pants replied graciously, as he always did, and placed all of his social and economic clout at her disposal. She also used every contact she had in the Canterlot garment district: textile merchants, trim salesmen, notions suppliers, and seamstresses. Most of them seemed to feel as she did; while it was an insane request, they also didn’t want to miss the opportunity to provide work for a royal occasion. Finally she decided to take one of Pinkie’s more cryptic suggestions: “just go look in the castle, silly.” She galloped off at top speed, and entered the castle, not knowing what she should be looking for. At first, she looked in sensible places for sensible things, and then she remembered the source of the advice and began trotting up odd little staircases and opening up random doors. As she did so, she began to understand exactly why Pinkie Pie wanted the runner and why it was such a brilliant idea, even if it was also completely insane. Suddenly, it wasn’t a question of having not enough material, but too much. Fortunately, there were always stallions willing to put aside nearly anything they were doing to assist Rarity in moving heavy objects. The Cakes reacted as Rarity’s Canterlot contacts had. Providing several large ceremonial cakes in a matter of hours was impossible, but since it was for Twilight, who was both a princess and a friend, and since Pinkie Pie had asked, they did it anyway. Rainbow Dash had been put in charge of air transport and Applejack pitched in with providing food, so it was up to Fluttershy to keep Twilight occupied and out of the castle. Pinkie was adamant that while Twilight knew that there was going to be a party, the details should come as a complete surprise. As the final touches were placed on the runner, and the Great Hall’s crystalline columns were festooned with coordinating decorations in elegant fabrics, Rarity heaved a sigh of relief, and allowed herself a satisfied smile. She was Rarity. And she had pulled it off. ~~ Pinkie and Cheese had no difficulties with adequate supplies. She had already located the castle’s bubble blowers and slides on her previous explorations. Fondue fountains, piñatas, pinwheels, giant punchbowls, and the notorious party bomb were located and deployed with no delay. It was the contents of one of the punchbowls that narrowly missed becoming a disaster. They had never planned a party together from the beginning before, and at first, it was ridiculously easy. If she didn’t have something stashed away, he certainly did, and while her tastes ran more toward streamers and balloons and his to light-up dance floors, that was easily resolved by having lots and lots of both. And then they came to the giant punchbowl and what ought to go in it, and a simple discussion became a tense clash of serious artistic differences. Cheese felt strongly that what ought to go in it should have a lemonade base. It was summer, it was warm, they would be doing a lot of walking, Q.E.D. Pinkie, on the other hoof, kept insisting on apple cider, which from his point of view flew in the face of common sense. “Apple cider is a fall beverage, Pinkie,” Cheese said, leaning on the punchbowl and frowning down at the bottom. “There’s no getting around that.” “But if it’s cold apple cider, it doesn’t have to be,” Pinkie said, bouncing into the punchbowl and out in one giant bounce. “Everypony loves cold apple cider.” “Well, I don’t,” said Cheese, pulling on a beret to indicate a sophistication he normally didn’t claim to have. “Not in high summer. I’ll drink it if I have to, but that doesn’t make it my first pick as a party drink. I’ve had plenty of experience to—” “And so have I, Cheese!” retorted Pinkie, jabbing her hoof towards her chest. “Outside Ponyville?” said Cheese, lifting one eyebrow. “Seriously? Ponies all over Equestria will tell you that—” “Ponies who don’t know you wouldn’t even BE a party pony if it weren’t for me!” Pinkie shot back. He inhaled sharply. “That is a low blow. Fine. My reputation stands, and I’m saying lemonade.” “Apple cider!” “Lemonade!” “Apple cider!” “Lemonade!” “Lemonade!” Cheese’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, no you don’t, Pinkie. I know how this one goes. I’m supposed to say ‘lemonade,’ and you say ‘apple cider,’ and I say ‘lemonade’ again, and you say ‘lemonade,’ and I say ‘apple cider,’ and you say ‘okey-dokey-lokey.’ Nice try, but no dice. Don’t try to pull schtick on a schtick artist. I know it cold.” Pinkie absolutely glowered at him, but he knew he was right. Why the heck was she being so pig-headed about apple cider? He wasn’t going to blow his reputation as a party planner serving substandard beverages. He was sticking to his cannons on principle, and he was gonna win this thing. Then it dawned on him: there was no possible way for him to win this thing. He’d been down this road before, and it led nowhere good. He’d actually “won” last time, and it felt terrible. He’d driven Pinkie Pie to tears, and she’d already cried once today: because he was going away, and because she seemed to—to care about him, anyway. And here he was, having a fight with her? Over lemonade? Was he insane? He remembered a piece of advice the Great Ponyacci had once given him, and said the three little words that fix everything: “Maybe you’re right.” Pinkie looked as startled as though she’d missed a step on a staircase and tumbled all the way to the bottom. “Huh?” “No, maybe you’re right, Pinkie. I still think lemonade would be better because of the season and because it’s warm, but you’ve got to have a good reason for insisting on apple cider, so sure. Let’s go with apple cider.” She muttered something he couldn’t quite hear. “Excuse me?” “I said . . . I said, I think lemonade is better, too. Honestly, Cheesie,” she said, wide blue eyes pleading, “I’d really, really rather have strawberry lemonade, ‘cause the strawberries are really nice right now and it’d be such a pretty pink. But, see—this is Ponyville, and there’s Sweet Apple Acres, and everypony’s so used to having apples in everything. And Applejack’s apple cider is the bestest, really, and—well, and honestly, if we don’t have it, her feelings will be hurt. So it has to be apple cider. Do you understand?” He more than understood. He understood parties and laughter, but she really understood friendship and why it came first. She was right after all. “And I’m sorry for saying you wouldn’t be a party pony except for me.” He smiled at her. “Why? It’s the truth. I wouldn’t be.” “And you are better at—” He snorted. “Haypuckey. You know that’s not true. And I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine myself. I’m sorry too.” She hugged him. “It’s ok, Pinkie. I’m not that great at friendship sometimes, but I’m trying, and it’s over on my end.” And I know it’s over on yours, he thought, as she smiled the best smile in the world at him, because you can’t stay mad at anypony. In fact, she’d already moved on to the next thing, which was filling the punchbowl. She tapped her chin with her hoof. “Hmmm. The more I think about it, the more I think we really ought have strawberry lemonade, but it should have something apple-y in it. I don’t think apple cider’s gonna work. Apple juice? Nah.” He made a wild guess. “You say you’ve got apple everything here. Do you have apple soda?” She looked up at him, surprised. “You mean apple pop? Sure. Why?” “Something a bit tart?” “Wait a minute . . . yeah, we do! That’ll be perfect! It’ll make it all fizzy— “And lemony—” “And cool on a hot summer day, and all it needs is the secret ingredient! I’ll go get Gummy!” ~~ At last everything was ready. The enormous carpet sat at the entrance to the castle, and Princess Twilight stood in front of it. Behind her, all of Ponyville and a number of ponies from Canterlot were lined up, eager both to see the castle and to start the party. “What is this, Pinkie Pie?” said Twilight, poking at the carpet with her horn. “And what am I supposed to do with it?” “Not . . . just . . . yet,” Pinkie replied, scanning the skies. Two winged figures flew across the sun, briefly casting shadows on the castle grounds. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna soared over the crowd and glided to a graceful landing. The ponies in line sank into deep bows, and so did Cheese, but Pinkie simply remarked, “Yep! It’s yet!” Rarity muttered something under her breath about her stress levels reaching maximum, but Princess Celestia and Princess Luna simply bowed back to the crowd and stood on either side of Twilight. Twilight thought for a moment, and then sent a very small jet of magic into the center of the carpet—the tiniest possible push. The massive carpet slowly unrolled down the Great Hall, followed by Twilight, the other princesses, and a very long line. It came to a stop at the threshold of the Circle of Friendship, completely blocking the door. “Well, that was unexpected,” said Spike, “but I hope we can get it moved. I was enjoying having my own chair.” The giant roll of carpet began to rise slightly off the floor, and all at once, Rarity knew precisely what she had to do. She cast a spell at the fabric, slicing it cleanly off. The end of the carpet folded in on itself, forming a golden rod, and the rest of the roll rose further and flew over the heads of the crowd, who worried about it audibly. “What was that all about?” said Cheese. “Dunno,” said Pinkie, and shrugged. “I guess the castle doesn’t want it to cover something on the floor back there. I guess we’ll find out about it sometime. Oo! Look at it now!” The carpet came to rest at the foot of a staircase, folded over on itself again, forming another golden rod, and slowly began to roll up the stairs. Twilight followed it, doubling back along the crowd, and the line re-formed. What happened next amounted to a solemn procession through the castle as the carpet slowly unrolled. Each time it stopped, the door beyond it revealed something unexpected: armor for a pegasus guard unit, an observatory with multiple telescopes, bags of seeds that Applejack immediately recognized as those of unusual or rare apples, the golden wires and sunny windows of an aviary, and some of the storerooms of rich fabric and precious gems Rarity had found before. Finally, the carpet came to its halt before a wide set of oaken double doors. Twilight paused just before opening them. “Is the castle creating this, or were these things already here?” “They must always have been here,” said Princess Luna. “They must always have potentially been here,” Princess Celestia replied, “but they required you and your thoughts to give them substance.” Princess Luna rolled her eyes, clearly thinking that age did not reduce the basic nerdiness of her elder sister, but said nothing. “What she said,” Pinkie agreed, bouncing in place. “Just go looking for stuff and boop! There it is! Or there it isn’t, but something else that’s really cool is there. Like bubble blowers!” Twilight opened the doors, and they swung wide, revealing an enormous library, at least as large as the one in the Crystal Empire. Two floors of bookcases with sliding ladders encircled a vast room. Laid out on large oak tables were atlases, illustrated volumes of Birds of Equestria, and materials for looking at rare old books: cotton hoof covers and heavy rolls to hold pages open. Twilight stood there, jaw dropped. “I had no idea this was here,” she said finally. She trotted forward into the library, while the others hung back. Her eye fell on a stack of books on one table. “What’s this?” She levitated each book in turn: a battered set of Daring Do novels; A Visitor’s Guide to Ponyville, with “Note to self: only first five pages relevant”; The Noble Dragon Code: Fact or Fiction? “They’re . . . they’re the books I brought back from the Rainbow Falls Traders’ Exchange,” she murmured. “They’re . . . they’re my books. They’re my books.” She burst into tears. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna joined her. “I don’t know if you’ll find everything you lost,” cautioned Princess Celestia. “Some things that are lost are simply lost.” “But there’s new, cool stuff, too,” Pinkie pointed out. “Like bubble blowers.” Twilight turned to the crowd waiting behind the doors. “What are you all waiting for?” she cried. “The library is open again!” Everypony cheered. During the next hour, everypony in Ponyville, including Twilight’s closest friends, toured the library, finding books on everything they found most interesting: cookbooks, books on agriculture, books on the history of fashion. . . . “Nothing on party ponies in there?” Cheese asked Pinkie, as she trotted back to join him at the door. “Noperooni!” she chirped. “Posilutely nothing on party ponies at all!” Cheese sighed. “Good,” he said, and they clicked hooves. ~~ The party went off without a hitch. The punch was particularly popular. Twilight saw Rarity relaxing and sipping a cup of punch under a tree strung with brilliant paper lanterns, and trotted over to join her. “Rarity,” Twilight said quietly, “is anything going on?” “I’m sorry, darling, you’ll have to be more specific,” Rarity murmured, and sipped her punch. “I mean . . . I mean, that,” said Twilight, and swung her head in the direction of the castle grounds. Pinkie was leading a group of fillies and colts in an oink song, while across the lawn, Cheese somehow managed to play the accordion and juggle at the same time. They weren’t anywhere near each other; they weren’t even looking at each other. And yet . . . “I know,” said Rarity. “Almost visible, isn’t it? One could swear that there was some sort of golden thread shimmering there.” “Do you know what exactly . . .” Twilight began again, and hesitated. “I’m not sure they know ‘what exactly.’ I haven’t asked.” They both sat and watched Pinkie and Cheese as they raced from one side of the party to the other, like a set of twin whirlwinds catching up the guests in their wake. “Pinkie said something about the party having to be today, because they knew it had to be today.” “Yes,” said Rarity. “And while she didn’t elaborate, I think that means that he won’t be here tomorrow. Other parties to plan, no doubt. She sounded a bit sad about it.” “I’ve got the perfect idea,” said Twilight. “After all, Pinkie just found my library, and I’d like her to be happy. I’ve got to find Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Spike. Will you get Pinkie and Cheese and come to meet us under the big oak?” She bustled off before she could hear Rarity say, “One thing a designer learns, Twilight, is when to stop.” ~~ “And so we thought,” said Twilight some time later, as they all stood together, hidden from the rest of the crowd, “we really ought to have a royal party planner in Canterlot, and why not Cheese? There are always plenty of parties there. It’s not that far from Ponyville. I’ve thought it all out and compared social calendars.” Spike unfurled a massive pair of scrolls with dates marked on each. “It will work perfectly.” Pinkie and Cheese said nothing, but stood and looked uncomfortable, not looking at Twilight or each other. “What’s the matter?” “Darling,” said Rarity, “you’re taking rather a lot for granted.” She turned to Pinkie and Cheese. “What Twilight means to say, Mr. Sandwich, is that you’ve provided a great deal of valuable assistance and that your expertise would be an asset in the royal seat of Equestria . . .” Pinkie and Cheese began to giggle. “I was unaware that I had said anything amusing,” continued Rarity, “but I should like to clarify that Princess Twilight is speaking of a professional position without reference to any personal relationships whatsoever.” “Isn’t she supposed to be the Princess of Friendship or something? Can she even do that?” whispered Cheese. “Shh,” said Pinkie. Everypony’s eyes turned to Cheese, except for Pinkie’s. “Well?” said Twilight. Cheese opened and closed his mouth several times, eyes wide with panic. He glanced wildly over at Pinkie. “I think Cheesie is trying to say no without hurting anypony’s feelings,” said Pinkie, “but my feelings aren’t hurt at all, silly. He can’t. Isn’t that right?” Cheese nodded frantically. “It would be . . . like cheating. It wouldn’t be fair. I don’t think they’ll understand, Pinks.” “They might. You can tell them some of it.” He sighed. “It’s like this. Pinkie makes ponies smile. We both do. We have to make other ponies happy.” “But if Cheesie’s always in Canterlot, making royal ponies happy . . .” “What about all the other ponies? What if there’s a birthday party in Manehattan or a hoedown in Appleloosa I couldn’t throw? Who’s going to do it if I don’t? I go where I’m needed,” he said, instinctively looking at the princesses of the sun and the moon, although he had no idea why they’d understand a simple party pony. “Just in case . . . in case somepony really needs to laugh.” Princess Luna lowered her head so that she could look him directly in the eye. “You are aware that the royal court of Canterlot has traditionally kept an amusing pony permanently in residence? That is, I think, the office Princess Twilight wishes us to revive.” “Yes!” said Twilight. “Thank you. That’s exactly what I meant.” There was an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Cheese said, “Fillies having birthday parties in Hooflyn need to laugh sometimes, too.” “I see,” said Princess Celestia. “I have to admit that I don’t quite understand the details of party pony magic.” Cheese brought his head up sharply, and she raised a hoof. “I’m not asking to know,” she added soothingly, “but I understand enough. You’re quite right. Laughter has to be free. I do have a favor to ask of you, however. You may be aware that later in the year, we will be celebrating the anniversary of the founding of Equestria and the beginning of the reign of the two sisters. It’s going to be a very extensive celebration and it will bring back many memories for us. And I’d be honored if you’d help plan it for us.” She looked Cheese directly in the eyes. “I hope you can understand how much I do really need for you to be there.” Cheese looked back, and he must have seen something in her eyes—lingering sadness over a millennium old, and perhaps new sadness that he really couldn’t understand. He remembered something Pinkie had said about how other ponies had real problems—problems that kept them separated forever. He saw enough to be able to say, “yes. Yes, I think I can promise that one.” Sometimes the pony who needs a laugh most is the senior princess of Equestria. She deserves the chance, too. Pinkie’s nose began to twitch. “Um . . . um, if you’ll excuse us, we have to get back.” “To the party?” “Sorta.” She got behind Cheese and pushed him well out of sight, just before the Cheesy Sense kicked in. ~~ “Thanks for coming with me this far, Pinkie.” “No problem,” she said cheerfully. “Have a good time. I hear Fillydelphia’s really nice!” “It is.” They’d reached the border: the place where Ponyville became not-Ponyville. He stopped, adjusted his serape, and took off his hat. It was hard to think of what to say. “Well.” “Uh-huh?” said Pinkie. “I—I—um . . .” He picked up her hoof in his own, and again heard the voice saying, “Now. Ask her to go with you now. Or at least say something. Say something, you idiot!” “Well.” This isn’t going to get easier, he thought. She was right. This time, it’s going to hurt. “I know,” she said, “but I’m happy you’re out there anyhow. And if you’re not out there, you can’t come back, can you? And I like it when you come back. Cheesie?” “What?” “I’m glad you have some of my magic. I mean, if I’m going to share magic with anypony, I’m really glad he’s a nice pony like you. Promise to make lots of ponies happy for me, ‘k?” “Swear on Camembert,” he said, and smiled. He’d been doing it for years without knowing it, but now it was different and better. He was making other ponies happy—and he was doing it for her. “I guess it’s time,” he added. “Say goodnight, Pinkie.” “Goodnight, Pinkie,” she said. He burst out laughing—and then pulled her in for one last kiss. When he stopped, Pinkie was glowing, such a radiant pink that the light cast a rosy shade down the road that would lead him away from her. She smiled at him. That was enough. He bounded down the road, all of Equestria in front of him, and Pinkie Pie, the Joy Bearer Herself, waiting for him, happy, knowing that someday he would be back. He stopped at the curve of the road for one more wave goodbye, and was off, because more than ever before, he needed to share the pure Joy that there was a Pinkie Pie, and that he was entirely hers.