//------------------------------// // Ask, and It Shall Be given You // Story: Many Faces of the Laughing Mare // by Karach //------------------------------// "I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your, uhm, horses," Pinkie chirped, giggling at her unintended pun. "We were about to open anyways." She pushed the door to the Sugarcube Corner open. There was nopony outside. Pinkie scratched the back of her head as she looked left and right, squinting hard at the completely ponyless street. She shrugged, already turning back towards the shop, when she caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar object on the stairs. She swiped the decorated envelope from the ground, tore it open with an expert flick of her muzzle, and pulled a card from the inside. You are cordially invited to the Golden Oak Library, this evening, as soon as you finish your daily chores. Twilight Sparkle. Pinkie squinted at the card, deciphering the words. "Cor-dial-ly... Cordial-ly... Corrrr-dial-ly..." she tasted the word, rolling it off her tongue like a sour candy. "You're a funny word," she giggled, winking at the card. She then shook her head, a sympathetic smile forming on her face. "I really need to teach Twilight how to write invitations." She sighed, giggled, and hopped back inside. Rainbow chewed her hoof in a desperate attempt to stifle a burst of laughs that rocked her entire body. Once Pinkie had disappeared back inside, she fell on the ground, letting out the cumulated guffaws all at once. "Yeah," she managed between the giggles. "She could really teach you a thing or two." "Hardy har har," Twilight muttered, her cheeks burning like two candles under her coat. "More importantly, do you think she'll come?" "I'm sure she will. Just wait and see." Rainbow hopped back on her hooves. She shook the dust off her coat, already stretching her wings. A moment later, she was already hovering beside the unicorn. "Got some weather to attend to. Afternoon?" She extended her hoof. "See you this afternoon, Rainbow." Twilight bumped the hoof with her own. "And thanks." The pegasus grinned, waved, and disappeared between the clouds, leaving a rainbow-colored trail behind her. *** Pinkie Pie hopped down the road, her puffy mane bouncing to the rhythm of her skips. The sun had set over an hour ago, leaving Ponyville in the cold embrace of Luna's moonlight. The library—dark and quiet in the early night—towered above the town like a silent sentinel. Pinkie hopped to the door and knocked twice. Silence perfect enough to hear ringing in her ears was Pinkie's only answer. Her bright smile never faltering from her face, she knocked three times. Even more silence answered. Pinkie stretched her hooves, replicating a gesture of a piano player before a concert. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her hooves hang above the wooden surface. Her eyes snapped open as her legs fell down, assaulting the door with a set of bangs, knocks, and taps, drumming an up-beat tune on the hard wood. The impromptu concert ended as abruptly as it had begun, and she froze in place, finishing her performance with a deep bow. She pricked her ears, trying to confirm whether a stifled giggle she could have sworn she had heard had come from the inside, but the library remained as quiet as the grave. After a moment of hesitation, Pinkie pushed the door open. "Twilight?" she called into the darkness. As nopony answered, she shrugged at the empty room and hesitantly bounced inside. The door closed behind her on its own, shaking the library with a loud bang. Before Pinkie could so much as flinch, she was blinded by the bright light that illuminated the room. "SURPRISE!" many voices roared, their cry loud enough to drown the explosion of party crackers that spit confetti in Pinkie's face. Pinkie rubbed her eyes and then her ears. As her sight and hearing slowly returned, she distinguished a set of familiar pony silhouettes around her. "Do you think we overdid it?" a voice that Pinkie recognized as Fluttershy's asked quietly. "We might have, just a notch," Rarity answered. Pinkie stood frozen on her spot, oblivious to her friends, inspecting the room with her discerning eye. The library was decorated for a party, that much was obvious. Pink streamers fell from the ceiling to the floor, zigzagging between the colorful balloons that floated all around the room. Bookshelves were moved against the walls, making room for the tiny dance floor. A large table filled with different kind of snacks and beverages—stacked in neat piles, no doubt courtesy of Twilight—stood next to the stairs. Pinkie raised her head. Above the stairs leading to the unicorn's bedroom, a banner was hung. Next to a pink face, overlooking the room with a bright smile, the letters formed the sentence: "Stay your hyper self forever, Pinkie Pie PA". Once the confetti had settled on the floor, Pinkie raised her hoof, pointing at the banner. "Pa?" she asked nopony in particular. Rainbow wrapped her leg around Pinkie, trying to stifle her giggles with a hoof. "It was meant to read PARTY, but in the end, Twilight couldn't fit it all in," she finally managed. She then broke into an infectious guffaw, which Pinkie immediately caught. Both ponies fell on the floor, wiggling their legs as they laughed their heads off. Rainbow finally pulled herself up, wiping a tear from her eye. "See, Twilight? I told you she would notice." Twilight couldn't care less about a stupid banner. Upon seeing Pinkie, her rude behavior from two days ago inflated her guilt to a point it physically hurt. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. As the pink pony stood before her motionless, waiting, her mind replayed all the conversations she had about her yesterday. *** "Nurse Redheart, do you have a minute?" Twilight asked when the mare had finally left the room Pinkie's performance had taken place in. The nurse corrected the cap on her head. "Miss Sparkle? Of course. Do you need medical attention?" "I'm fine." Twilight offered a polite smile. "I just wanted to ask you about Pinkie." "She's such a dear, isn't she?" The nurse smiled back. "The foals just love her and her wacky antics. Although, the hospital dietician threatens to quit his job if she stuffs the little ones with more sweets," she added with a chuckle. "I'll bet," Twilight giggled. "Could you tell me how often Pinkie visits the foals?" she said, her smile slowly giving way to a more serious expression. "Why, nearly every day." The nurse turned back towards the room, the warm smile on her face only growing. "And every time she does, this place livens up. I can't overvalue the positive effects her visits have on Dr. Stable's patients. I swear, those foals patch up twice as quick as when she wasn't visiting." Nurse Redheart turned back to Twilight, her eyes widening. "Please, don't tell me she's going to stop her visits." She grabbed Twilight's shoulders. "The foals would be devastated. I asked her many times whether she was interested in receiving any gratification for her brilliant work, but she always declined. Let me go speak with Dr. Stable. I'm sure he would agree to employ her on a more permanent basis, if only she agreed." "Nurse Redheart!" Twilight shook the mare's hoof, grabbing her attention. "You don't have to worry," she said with a gentle, calming smile. "Pinkie isn't going to stop her visits anytime soon. Or at least, I don't know anything about it." "Oh, bless her joyous heart." The nurse exhaled her worries in a long sigh of relief. "You had me really worried for a moment, Miss Sparkle. " Her eyes narrowed slightly. "But if that's not what you wanted to discuss, how else can I help you?" "You already told me everything I wanted to know." Twilight smiled, looking back into the room the performance had taken place in. "But... Why do you think foals like her this much?" "I thought this much would be obvious." The nurse chuckled. "Just look at them." She waved her hoof around the room. "She brings smiles to their faces, which last long after she's left. But you know" – the nurse winked conspirationally at the unicorn – "no longer than two days ago, I asked Mad Dasher– And I swear, that filly lives up to her name! She's going to end up with a cast or a band-aid for her cutie mark at this rate!" She sighed. "Anyway, I asked her the very question. And you know what she told me?" Twilight shook her head. "Because, and I quote, because Miss Pie is just like us." Twilight's eyes widened. "The foals love her random, sometimes wacky, and—above everything else—always happy personality, because she acts just like them," the nurse continued. "I don't know her secret, but she doesn't seem to be weighed down by the burdens of an average grown-up pony." Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The nurse put a hoof on the unicorn's shoulder, looking straight into her eyes. "Every time she leaves, I fear that's the last time we've seen of her. I know it is incredibly selfish of me, but sometimes I catch myself praying to Celestia that Pinkie would never grow up... At least, for as long as she can afford to stay a foal inside." *** Twilight blinked away the stinging in her eyes as she forced her numb body to move. She must have looked grotesque, she realized, like a puppet on strings led by an unskilled puppet master. *** "Cheerilee... Do you have a minute?" Twilight asked from the classroom door. The teacher looked up from her desk. "Twilight Sparkle. What a lovely surprise." She glanced at the clock hanged on the wall behind her. "Sure, it's almost recess time anyway. Class dismissed." Her long-awaited announcement rang in the room, giving Twilight just enough time to evacuate from the door. The unicorn waited patiently as the wave of fillies and colts poured from the room like a miniature tsunami, and cautiously approached the teacher's desk. "You should drop by more often, preferably during class." Cheerilee gave Twilight a wink. "I'm sure history lessons with the town's librarian would be greeted with as much enthusiasm as music lessons with the town's party planner." Twilight chuckled, imagining herself giving a long and boring lecture to the snoring foals. "Oh, I highly doubt that. I have next to no experience with foals... But even I could notice how much they enjoyed the lesson." Cheerilee nodded, gazing at the classroom with her eyes half-closed. "Yes..." She sighed. "You know, it's nearly impossible for me to get as much attention from my pupils as they give Pinkie voluntarily. I sometimes wonder whether I should be jealous or proud of her." She chuckled. Twilight cleared her throat delicately. "I actually wanted to talk about that, if you can spare a minute." Cheerilee offered Twilight a chair. "How often does she conduct her lessons?" Twilight asked, taking a seat before the teacher's desk. "Nearly every day." Cheerilee drew a long sigh. "I would gladly employ her as a full-time music teacher... Both to compensate her for the time she spends here, and to be sure that she can visit us every day. I asked her about it several times, but she always refuses." The teacher ran a hoof through her mane. "I'm not sure if you agree, but I always believed that studying creative arts—be it music, painting, or hooficraft—is as important as learning language, maths, geography, or history. It may not provide the students with the same volume of knowledge, but it teaches them creativity and helps them develop their young minds." Twilight nodded politely. Musical education has never been her area of interests, but she vaguely remembered an essay that discussed its positive value on young ponies. "And, since I'm not musically educated or talented myself," Cheerilee continued, "I've been trying to find a suitable tutor for quite a while. I wouldn't count on the help of a music maestro the level of Octavia, but local musicians proved to be of little help." Cheerilee sighed, burying her face in her hooves. "Blues wasn't able to entertain the foals with his sappy jazz, and Miss Heartstrings... Well, let's just say that studying music theory is definitely a wrong way to persuade a young pony to play some instruments. Besides –" she stifled a chuckle with her hoof "– a lyre is a good music choice only when it's embroiled on your flank. But don't let her know I said that," she added with a wink. Twilight chuckled, giving the teacher a nod. "I won't breathe a word. So... How did Pinkie apply for the job?" Cheerilee's unsuppressed laughter caught Twilight by surprise. "You wouldn't believe it." The teacher rubbed her forehead. "So, I'm having a boring lesson, trying to teach my pupils to read music notes, when all of a sudden the whole building is assaulted with a deafening cacophony of various sounds. What the hay? I think, wondering whether a full marching band decided to camp outside. I peek through the door, the kids slowly recovering from the lethargy my lesson put them to, and a trumpet blows right in my face! I stagger to a wall, terrified that the ringing in my ears won't ever pass, while Pinkie bursts into the classroom, playing a dozen instruments all at once. Then she just dumps them all on the floor and announces, with the widest smile I've ever seen, that she has come to give music lessons." Twilight offered an understanding nod. She could very well imagine Pinkie doing something like this. "By the time I gathered myself from the floor," Cheerilee continued, "she had already rolled another wagon of musical instruments to join the pile." The teacher shrugged. "I decided to give the whole gig a try, if only to see how interested she could keep the class. Besides, if she knew how to play all those different instruments, she had to have some musical knowledge, right?" Twilight rubbed her horn. She had witnessed Pinkie playing a one-pony-band set two times so far—during the parasprite invasion and during Trixie's last visit to Ponyville—and it had rendered her speechless on both occasions. "Then, Pinkie asked the students to listen to every instrument she had, and pick their personal favorite. I swear, it looked like a talent show and the foals were the judges." Cheerilee looked straight into Twilight's eyes. "I'm no musical expert, Twilight, but I can tell when a pony sings out of tune. But Pinkie... She played the exact... same... tune" – she punctuated each word with a tap of her hoof against the desk – "perfectly on every instrument she had brought. I have never seen anypony as versatile as her, before or since. "I was so engrossed with the absurdity of having a talent show during my class, that I looked at the clock only after each student had picked their instrument. You may believe me or not, but when I did, it was already a quarter past the recess. And none of the foals even noticed. Then, Pinkie simply left the instruments to the students, announcing she would teach the foals how to play music from the next day on, dumped the rest into her wagon, and rocketed away, faster than a pegasus with their tail on fire." Twilight couldn't help but chuckle. "Typical Pinkie Pie." Cheerilee agreed with a nod. "So, is she any good as a teacher?" the unicorn asked. Cheerilee blew a raspberry. "Is she? She taught the foals to read notes on the very next day, using some crafty analogies and making a competition of the whole thing. Every lesson with her is like a game, where the winner can count on a sweet reward. Not many foals have any chance with Dinkie, though. She seems to be a natural with a flute." Twilight scrunched her muzzle. "Pinkie's lessons don't seem to have much in common with any usual way of teaching music that I know of." "I agree." Cheerilee drew a sigh. "But may Celestia scorch me with her sun if they don't give the best results. The students are really progressing with their instruments, Twilight. Of course, they make mistakes and play some false notes, but Pinkie is always there to lend a helping hoof. I have no idea how she can distinguish a single false note in all that overwhelming noise, but maybe it's some sort of complicated melody for her?" Cheerilee shrugged. "Suffice it to say, that since she started visiting us, music has become my students' favorite lesson. The foals simply adore Pinkie." Twilight narrowed her eyes. "Why do you think they do?" Cheerilee looked through the window, her gaze half-focused, perhaps drifting to a time she was a student herself. "If I had to take a guess, I would think it's because of how easily she can connect with foals. I swear, she sometimes acts like a filly trapped in a grown mare's body. Look –" Cheerilee touched Twilight hoof with her own "– I know it's terribly selfish, but I sometimes catch myself hoping she would keep this attitude. For the sake of all the foals she makes happy in the process." *** Twilight stopped in front of Pinkie, uncertain of what she should do next. The pink pony turned her head curiously, producing a wary smile. Twilight closed her eyes, and drew a deep sigh. *** "Miss Sparkle? How may I be of help?" Miss Whiteheart greeted her guest. "I hope none of my books are overdue." "Shh!" Twilight whispered. "I don't want anypony to notice me." Her horn lit aglow, gently closing the door to the caretaker's office. "Your books are fine." "Why the secrecy, then?" Miss Whiteheart rested her head on her hooves. Twilight rubbed the back of her head and looked away, her face twisted in an awkward smile. "Rainbow Dash asked me." "I see." The caretaker nodded, sharing an understanding. "I noticed Pinkie Pie had just left the orphanage," Twilight said, to which Miss Whiteheart nodded in silence. "And I was wondering whether I could ask a question or two about her visits." The caretaker offered Twilight a seat, squatting on a pillow opposite. "Be my guest, but I'm surprised you won't just ask Miss Pie herself. You are close friends, am I right?" Twilight drew a tired sigh. "Yes, and I hope our little discussion will clear the air between us. Besides, up until now I wasn't even aware of Pinkie's work." Miss Whiteheart raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand why Miss Pie would want to keep it a secret. She does such a tremendous work for me and the foals." "That's exactly what I've been asking myself." Twilight took a squat next to the caretaker. "Please, tell me, how often does she visit the orphanage?" Miss Whiteheart scratched her chin. "Nearly every day, I guess. In fact, I don't remember her missing an appointment even once this month." She fixed her half-closed eyes at the door, as if she saw through it at her foals in the common room. "Miss Pie is a real blessing to those poor foals, let me tell you. She thinks up games, competitions, performances, brings sweets and toys, and makes their time as enjoyable as it can get..." As the mare counted Pinkie's noble deeds, a dreamy smile rose on her face. "But it's not what's most important for my foals." Twilight blinked. "What is?" "A simple fact that those fillies and colts can count on her." The caretaker smiled. "To just be here, I mean. Just like I'm always here for them, Pinkie is another safe harbor, another constant in their troubled lives. And I can't overstate how important it is for them." "I saw a small part of it through the window." Twilight offered a sheepish smile. "I saw how happy the foals were with her." Miss Whiteheart chuckled. "It's amazing, don't you think? While most of the foals here regard me as their mother-in-replace, they all treat Miss Pie as their sister. Sometimes an older one, in whom they can seek support and find consolation, who can bend her head and listen to their worries. But more often a younger one, who they can play or pull some harmless pranks with, or simply share a few laughs." The caretaker let out a sigh, giving way to a warm smile to form on her face. "I have to admit, there are days when I'm envious of Miss Pie. Of her rare talent to connect with the foals with such ease." "I saw a similar scene in the hospital..." Twilight said. "Have you met my sister, then?" Twilight nodded. The caretaker chuckled. "We're both busy mares, Red and I. Can you believe, I learned that Miss Pie visits the foals in the hospital as well, not longer than a month ago?" "What do you think makes Pinkie so popular with the foals?" Twilight interjected. Miss Whiteheart rested her head on her hoof, giving the thought a thorough consideration. "If I had to take a guess, I would think her carefree attitude is the main reason. She seems like another one of my foals most of the time—only much, much happier. No wonder the others swarm her like parasprites, no?" she chuckled. "Of course, there are also times when they need to be shown a strict hoof, to set them straight and teach them some rules." She gave out a sigh, but her honest smile hadn't waned an inch. "That's usually my cue to step in, I guess." Twilight offered an understanding smile. The caretaker opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. She looked Twilight in the eyes, her face serious and painted with worry. "Miss Sparkle, may I ask you a question in return?" "Of course." "Have you come to tell me that Miss Pie is going to stop her visits in my orphanage?" Before Twilight could form an answer, the caretaker grabbed her hoof. "If there's one thing I fear, it's that Miss Pie does her incredible service as a voluntary assignment. I offered her a regular salary as an invaluable member of the staff here many times, but she always refused. I'm well aware I can't expect her to keep doing her amazing work forever, but I dread the day when I will have to stand before my foals and tell them Miss Pie won't be coming back." She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. Twilight put a reassuring hoof on the caretaker's shoulder. "Don't worry, Miss Whiteheart. I'm sure the day won't come any time soon." *** "Pinkie, I... I'm so sorry." Twilight muttered, her voice on the verge of breaking. "Had I known sooner..." "Known what?" Pinkie blinked, her baby blue eyes brimming with energy and laughter. Twilight pawed her hoof at the ground. "Rainbow showed me everything. Please, don't be mad at her." She added hastily, noticing the pegasus looking away with a blush. "I'm so sorry to have judged you without knowing to what extent your carefree behavior..." She mentally slapped her face with a hoof. Great, now I sound like I'm insulting her. "Your childish personality..." Twilight stuttered. "Your immaturity?" Twilight furrowed her brow, her forehead swearing heavily. Somehow, the apology sounded worse with each word. She looked at the ponies around her. Rarity was shaking her head with a dispirited look, Fluttershy hid behind a table with drinks, Applejack slid her hat at her snout, and Rainbow did her best to stifle the violent fit of giggles by chewing her wing. Twilight took a deep breath, her cheeks hot enough to light the room red. She studied the cracked plank in the library's wooden floor. "Look, I'm so sorry I judged your character without knowing the reasons for your behavior. I apologize for criticizing you for who you are. It was very immature of me" – she looked deep into her friend's blue eyes – "and I'm so very, very sorry." Pinkie stood motionless before Twilight, her head bent lightly in mild confusion, looking at the unicorn with an expression the latter couldn't decipher. When Twilight began doubting her apology had had any effect, Pinkie raised a hoof, motioning the unicorn to come closer. Twilight looked around the room. Her friends watched her in silence. After a moment of hesitation, she managed to force her lead hooves to carry her forward. With her each step, the smile on Pinkie's face grew wider, giving Twilight the much needed courage. She took one last step, stopping only inches before her friend. Before she could so much as blink, she felt her ribcage crushed in a breath-depriving hug—a feat only Pinkie was capable of. Her eyes moist and stinging, Twilight could only reciprocate the hug. "I solemnly promise not to say another word about your character," she whispered in the pink ear. "And I hope you will stay true to yourself for as long as you have the will to." The two ponies shared the hug for a while longer, until Twilight's head started getting dizzy. "You think you could let me breathe now?" she panted. The hug loosened immediately, and Twilight gasped for air, nearly stumbling to the ground. Pinkie stuck out her tongue at the unicorn and trotted to the center of the room. Her hoof at her chin, she contemplated and judged the party preparation with her expert eyes. "Not bad..." she muttered, "not bad for your first try. Do you mind if I add some finishing touches?" she grinned. Twilight smiled and gave a nod of approval. Pinkie's party cannon appeared out of nowhere, shooting balloons and confetti around the room. Loud music filled the library as Pinkie—already adorned with a party hat—yelled into the air. "Come on, ponies! It's time to PAR-TAY!" *** Moonlight shone through the window as Twilight finished cleaning the library. The party had been a blast—as if it could have been anything less, once Pinkie had taken over. Twilight's horn blazed with purple aura one more time, moving the last bookshelf on its rightful place. She wiped her forehead, her eyes falling at a lonely desk in the corner of the room. A set of quills, three bottles of ink, and some clean parchments—once used regularly every single week—lied forgotten, inviting the unicorn to use them. A nostalgic smile formed on Twilight's face as she trotted to the desk. Enveloped in a purple aura of her magic, a quill sailed into the air, dipping in the ink bottle. Dear princess Celestia, First of all, please allow me to apologize for my recent lack of reports. I am aware I have not written much in the last few weeks, but they have been rather slow in presenting opportunities to expand a pony's knowledge on the magic of friendship. Today, however, such an opportunity has arrived, as I learned a very important fact about one of my closest friends. We may sometimes not understand why our friends behave the way they do, perhaps be annoyed or irritated by some of their quirks... But it is never a reason enough to attack them because of it. If we only believe in each other, expecting the best from our friends instead of the worst–" The quill shook in the air, dripping a few drops of ink on the parchment. Twilight froze in front of her desk, blinking a few times, her mouth wide open. "Spike!" she called, before she realized how late it was. She blocked her mouth with a hoof, pricking her ears, expecting the grumbling of her woken dragon assistant to roll down the stairs any second. She drew a sigh of relief when they didn't come. Twilight channeled magic in her horn. A box full of parchments sailed from a shelf, landing gently in front of the unicorn. A violet aura enveloped Twilight's horn, casting a dim light around the room as she pulled parchment after parchment from the box, giving each one a quick skim. A smile formed on her face as she finally found the one she was searching for. Coincidentally, she had written it during a party as well, a few years ago on the day of Pinkie's birthday. It was Pinkie who had learned the same lesson back then. With a gentle shake of her head, Twilight put the scroll back in the box, crunched the one she had started writing into a ball, and threw it in the fireplace. The greedy flames consumed the paper like a hungry beast its prey as Twilight levitated another piece of parchment on her desk. Dear Princess Celestia, I have just discovered—or should I write rediscovered—a very important fact about the process of learning. It is of no surprise that we learn the most from mistakes we make ourselves. My dear friend Pinkie Pie taught me a lesson today—the same lesson that she had learned on the day of her birthday, not too long after I had moved to Ponyville. "You should never expect the worst from your friends, always expect the best." So said the letter I had written to you on that day, all those years ago. And it was the very same lesson I had to be reminded of today. We should embrace the traits of our friends, accept them for who they are, and not try to change their unique personalities under the false pretense of believing we know better. And yes, before you ask, I have to admit I committed all those blunders. Fortunately, Pinkie was there to show me where being judgmental can lead a pony, and how traits one perceives annoying can be the biggest asset of one's character for another ponies. Another lesson of mine comes to mind, when Zecora—you do remember my zebra friend, don't you?—taught me not to judge a book by its cover. I solemnly promise not to make the same mistakes again. I also plan to revise the lessons I've learned so far in the foreseeable future. Perhaps there's more I should be reminded of? The very thought that even after learning those lessons, I'm still prone to making the same mistakes, bothers me to no end. Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle P.S. I apologize for not writing to you for such a long time. I hope that the rate of our letter exchange will only improve from now on. Twilight sealed the scroll with the royal seal and left it on the table. Sending it could stand waiting till Spike woke up in the morning. She put out the candle and headed upstairs. The day had been long and far too exhausting. Her shaky hooves barely dragged her up to her bedroom, filled with loud snores of her number one assistant. Twilight zigzagged to her bed. Never before had it looked as inviting as now. She fell on the soft mattress, her face graced with a wide, exhausted smile only one of Pinkie Pie's parties could bring.