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// No Words - Tragedy 
// Story: Norse Code 
// by NorsePony 
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"No Words"



They lay on the bed together, side by side, close enough to touch. Pinkie turned a page in the book. “The temple walls began collapsing around Daring Do, and she cast about for an escape—” She halted and looked at Twilight, who had tapped her shoulder.

Twilight’s mouth was open, her lips massaging the air as she searched in her head for a word. Her brow was knitted above angry, frustrated eyes. “W . . . what?” she forced out.

Pinkie smiled at her, hiding her pain. “Remember how Daring went into the temple?” Twilight thought a moment, then nodded silently. “Remember how she found the Dalybred Urn?” A shorter delay before the nod. “Good! Remember how when she touched the urn, it set off a trap?”

Twilight nodded in recognition, her mouth open as though to say, “Ah, yes, of course,” but she did not try to speak. Pinkie bit back a gentle reprimand. Twilight needed to speak, to exercise her brain. But she had remembered, that was enough for now.

Aphasia, the doctors had told her, and there’s nothing we can do. Pinkie had rushed to Canterlot and burst into the throne room, and had Princess Celestia not come willingly, Pinkie would have grabbed the monarch by the ear and dragged her all the way to Ponyville.

But even the mighty Celestia could do nothing for the hollowed-out unicorn. She said that the brain was too delicate for healing magic to be safe. She said that it risked changing the pony’s personality—Twilight’s personality—into someone unrecognizable. Behind closed doors, Pinkie had argued with her ruler, saying that it was worth the risk, that a Twilight who could not speak or write or carry on a conversation was already unrecognizable.

Celestia had shaken her head sadly, unwilling to lose her beloved Twilight. Then she gathered Pinkie to her with infinite tenderness and bore it while Pinkie hit and kicked her, hurling vile accusations and insults at her. At last, Pinkie’s anger had been spent and Celestia continued to hold her while she sobbed brokenly into the royal neck.

Celestia had laid herself on the floor next to the exhausted Pinkie Pie and quietly reassured her. Unicorns recovered from this sort of magically-induced trauma. Twilight had tried to cast a spell that was too great even for her vast power, and had injured her brain as a result. It was almost certainly not permanent, according to Celestia’s experience, though recovery was never easy. Pinkie had allowed her mind to be eased, and had made up her mind at that moment to do whatever she could to help Twilight become Twilight again.

Pinkie brought her eyes back into focus on the here and now. A warm summer breeze stirred the hospital curtains in the open window. “Where were we? Okey-dokey, here it is. ‘The temple walls began collapsing—’” Twilight tapped her again.

Twilight fought to force speech. “Thirst.”

“You’re thirsty?” Pinkie picked up the cup of water on the side table. “Here you go, Twilight.”

Twilight took the cup in her hooves and drank, easily and without a spilled drop, then set the empty cup on her own side table. She was in perfect physical health, other than being easily exhausted. It would have been much less serious if she had only lost a leg or the ability to walk. This injury cut deeper than that; it was, in many ways, worse than death. Pinkie forced her tears back, kept the encouraging smile on her face. She had to be strong for Twilight, to keep her talking so that she could heal, to keep her laughing so that she could live.

Pinkie lay a hoof down on the bed, and Twilight moved her arm to grip it tight, so tight. Twilight opened her mouth and struggled against herself for long seconds. “Read. More?”

Pinkie smiled at her. “For as long as you want, Twilight.” She turned back to the book and did what Twilight couldn’t.



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A/N: This was originally written as an entry for Thirty Minute Ponies’ prompt #3, “Pangs”. The prompt was: "Twilight is grievously injured and only Pinkie Pie can save her."