Masterpiece
A flicker of light in the darkness.
A hoof taps the desk.
She is waiting for something.
Anything.
But it doesn't come.
She is afraid.
What if it never comes?
The smell of freshly baked goods wafted out of Sugarcube Corner. She breathed it in, noting the perfect way that the scents of sugary frosting blended with soft breadstuff. A bell above the door jangled as she entered the bakery.
A blue earth pony trotted up to greet her at the counter. She stifled a giggle, amused at the sight of the blue pony's bright pink hair arranged in such a way as to look like the frosting on a cupcake.
“Hello, and welcome to Sugarcube Corner!” she announced brightly, eyes gleaming. “How may I help you?”
“Ah, yes, do you have something… moderate, so to speak?”
“Moderate?” The blue pony blushed. “I – well, whatever-exactly do you mean, Miss?”
“I mean something sweet, yet not-so-sweet at the same time… average yet unique? Just – not too much and not too little, really.”
She blinked. “Ah – well – we, erm – we have muffins?”
The customer smiled. “Yes, that sounds nice. Do you have blueberry muffins? Those always make my day. I do love my blueberry muffins.”
“Yes of course, we have those.”
The blue pony leaned back, turning her head around to holler in the direction of the kitchen. “Honey, some blueberry muffins, please!”
“Alright!” a muffled voice responded.
She turned back to her customer. “My husband,” she explained with a soft smile.
She smiled back. “Of course.”
“I haven't seen you around here before. Did you just move to Ponyville?”
“No no, not at all, I'm merely visiting.”
“Oh, well, it's really a nice place here.”
“Very.”
“Did you stop by for sightseeing, or vacationing, business…?”
She shifted, leaning on the counter. “I was hoping to get some inspiration, as I'm an artist, and inspiration gets me my income.”
The blue pony nodded towards the other earth pony's cutie mark, an image of a faint white wisp emblazoned on her flank. “Is it your special talent? I really couldn't tell…”
She nodded in reply. “Yes, it is.” She frowned. “Yet as of this moment, I am afraid to say that my cutie mark may have gotten it wrong…”
A soft, understanding smile came from the blue pony. “Having trouble with ideas?”
“… Yes.” A gloomy sigh entered the conversation.
“I know exactly how that feels. It happens to me all the time. We bakers have a saying, though – 'all the best recipes come from those who wait the longest to think.'”
She flashed a slightly forced smile. “I do apologize for my blatancy, but I'm no baker; I am a painter. Do forgive me if I sound rather arrogant, but the fact of the matter is that our talents are infinitely different.”
“Are they really?” She moved to shuffle several items around behind the counter. “In the end, aren't we all artists?”
She adopted a thoughtful stare. “… Perhaps you're right.”
The baker gave her a small, wise smile. “Perhaps.”
A long-legged, yellow coated stallion trotted into the room from the kitchen, a white box wrapped in pink ribbon clenched in his teeth. He set it down on the counter, giving the customer a reserved nod. She respectfully took the box and balanced it expertly on her back.
“I believe Princess Twilight Sparkle would like me to put this order on her tab.”
“You're staying with the Princess?” the stallion earth pony asked, sounding surprised.
She nodded in reply, a short, brisk nod. “Yes; you see, I work for someone very prestigious up in Canterlot, and this pony arranged it so that I could work in peace within the confines of Princess Twilight's castle.”
“Hm!” he uttered thoughtfully, and said nothing more.
She trotted towards the exit. “I'll be going now. Thank you for the quick chat.”
“Anytime,” the blue pony responded cheerily. “Seems you'll be staying with us for a while; my name's Cup Cake; my husband's Carrot Cake. What's yours?”
She paused, slightly surprised at their frankness. “Oh…”
“'Oh?'” Cup Cake chuckled jokingly.
“No no.” She smiled. “It's Palette Whisper.”
The pale-blue coated customer departed without another word.
* * * * * *
Palette Whisper stared at the blank canvas that sat in front of her. She ran a hoof over it, feeling the slight roughness of the white cloth. She then sighed, taking her other hoof and rubbing her temples with it, mussing her long almost-white purple mane in the process.
A lavender head popped in through the door. “Hello, Palette. Did you have a good lunch?”
“Mm-hm,” Palette mumbled around the paintbrush clenched in her teeth.
The lavender alicorn trotted over and sat beside her. “You went out, right? Did you stop by the Hayburger, or the Daisy Restaurant?”
Palette spat out her paintbrush. “Neither. I went to Sugarcube Corner.”
The alicorn frowned. “Maybe it would be better if you went to other places. Going to Sugarcube Corner twenty-four seven probably isn't the best idea if you want to get inspired by anything…”
Palette gave her a tired smile. “What can I say? Pinkie Pie has some very unique recipes piled away.”
She laughed, her indigo mane bouncing with her head. “She sure does! I guess if you're sure about it, then.”
“Did you need to tell me something, Princess?” Palette inquired curiously.
“Oh, yes! If you need help, I think I have some ideas for you. Only if you need them, of course.”
Palette nodded slowly. “I think I'll be quite alright, but thank you for the offer.”
“No problem.” The Princess trotted back out of the room, calling out over her shoulder. “I'll see you later, Palette!”
“You too, Twilight Sparkle.” Palette watched her depart, then took her paintbrush back into her hoof.
She glared at the empty canvas, a flicker of irritation growing in her chest. It had been several weeks since she had arrived in Ponyville, and still nothing came to her.
Palette growled, slamming the paintbrush back into its case with a loud clatter. She briskly shoved herself up on her hooves and tramped out of her crystalline room, muttering angrily.
She needed to go on a walk.
* * * * * *
Palette Whisper froze for a moment, right in the middle of town, letting her gaze run over the colorful pastel ponies trotting back and forth and constantly shouting greetings to one another. She spied a yellow orange-maned mare walking beside a light gray stallion, two mares with intricately braided tails talking animatedly, a stallion stealing secretive sips from the fountain centerpiece. She twitched her ears, catching the notes of a sousaphone playing in harmony with a cello, the boisterous yells of foals playing a game of tag. She turned her head, and watched a magenta unicorn toss her little orange filly up and down in the air, noting her gentle smile and the filly's squealing laugh.
Palette breathed shakily, straightening herself up and abandoning her rigid, defensive stance. She blinked, mentally berating the sun for being a touch too bright for her deep blue eyes. Slowly, Palette took unsure steps across Ponyville's bustling town square, wishing that she could feel as light and carefree as Ponyville's residents. Once, perhaps she would've enjoyed the small town bliss, but now… things were different. She remained stiff, unable to relax. Palette wondered briefly if, perhaps, the stress of her work was slowly driving her insane.
She banished the thought immediately, and turned back to studying the town life, hungrily searching for something to spark her creativity. Palette watched two fillies race by, letting a soft smile find its way onto her lips. She couldn't help admiring Ponyville; its flair, its townspeople, all of it. Canterlot was her home, and would always be her home; yet even though Ponyville was Canterlot's exact polar opposite, she knew she wouldn't mind living here at all.
“'The Town Where Friendship is Magic,'”she chuckled to herself. That was what her employer had called it, and Palette couldn't find a name more fitting. Ponies here made friends as often as unicorns used telekinesis spells. It was such a wonderfully pleasant atmosphere, yet Palette was still frustrated in her efforts to get inspired from it.
She harrumphed, feeling a sickening weight of dread in her chest.
Attempting to shake off the feeling, Palette continued trotting on. She passed by cozy wooden houses and lush green gardens, glancing to her left and right just to take it all in.
“Hiya, Palette!”
She paused and glanced up, finding a gray pegasus mare perched atop a fluffy white cloud. “Oh, hello there, Derpy.”
Derpy beamed at her. “How's it goin' with your paintings n' stuff?”
Palette shrugged. “It could be going better.”
“Need some help?” the wall-eyed mare offered, cocking her head.
She shook her head. “No thank you, Derpy. I think I can manage on my own.”
“Okay!” Derpy flapped her wings. “You goin' somewhere?”
“Not really,” Palette admitted.
“Oh, good!” Derpy soared off her cloud, landing on the ground next to Palette with a heavy thump. “Can I take you somewhere? It could help with your paintings and stuff.”
“Where are you taking me? And don't you need to deliver mail?”
Derpy shrugged. “I'm on break.” She sailed several inches above the ground, darting forward. “We can just go to the Ponyville Park; it's real nice there.”
“Alright then.” Palette tagged along just behind Derpy, letting the blonde-maned mare lead her to the Park.
* * * * * *
“That's too bad,” Derpy commented. The two mares were sitting on a wooden park bench, hidden from the sun's rays by the shadow of an oak tree.
“I'm sure it'll pass,” Palette said doubtfully.
“I dunno what it's like to write,” Derpy remarked, ruffling her wings. “Or draw. I've never tried it. I don't think I'd really be good at that art stuff. But it must feel really bad when you can't come up with ideas.”
“It's very frustrating.”
Derpy grinned. “I bet. 'Specially if it's supposed to be your special talent; that must be really really frustrating.” A curious expression appeared on her face. “Hey, is the painting you're supposed to make really important? 'Cuz it feels like otherwise you wouldn't be so mad about your artist's block.”
Palette stared off into the distance, her gaze unfocused, and let a long silence drawl out before she answered. “I want it to be important. Maybe even my magnum opus. I want it to be something extraordinary, something that'll catch a pony's eye and make them really look at it and go 'wow, what does it mean', you know?”
Derpy nodded slowly. “I think I know what you mean. Like, I'm Ponyville's mailmare, and I deliver letters and packages and stuff all the time, but I still want attention like everypony else. I still want respect and stuff, and just 'cause I'm an ordinary everyday mailmare doesn't mean ponies have to stop noticing me.”
“Yes… I've painted so much already, but I want this one painting to be better than all the rest! I don't want to paint a portrait of something random…” She breathed deeply. “I want it to be my masterpiece!”
Derpy nodded solemnly.
Palette gave her a small, warm smile. Then she turned her gaze back to the horizon, her brow furrowing. “This piece means a lot to me…”
“I know,” Derpy said simply.
The two lapsed into silence, watching the sun set slowly beneath the horizon.
* * * * * *
Palette Whisper stared at the mare that sat across from her.
Princess Twilight looked up from her meal. Her ear twitched. “Is something the matter, Palette?”
She came out of her stupor, shaking her head as if to clear it. “No no, of course not, Princess. I was just… I was simply thinking on things, that's all.”
Twilight nodded slowly, but looked unconvinced. “Are you sure there's nothing wrong?”
Palette shook her head again. “No, not at all.”
“Alright then…” Twilight picked her fork back up in her magic and twirled a bite of cream colored spaghetti onto it.
Palette picked up her own fork and jabbed at her own dish of spaghetti.
The two ate in silence for the next few minutes.
“Where's Spike?” Palette asked suddenly, in an effort to break the uncomfortable moment.
“He already ate,” Twilight explained. “He cooked dinner for us, and ate his share already. Spike's been working hard all day tidying up the library. He looked really tired, so I sent him to bed as soon as he finished.
“He's only a baby dragon, after all,” she added. “And besides, Owlowiscious can finish up for him.”
“Owlowiscious?” Palette frowned.
Twilight nodded. “Mm-hm. My pet owl. He looks after the library at night.” She grinned sheepishly. “That's probably why I didn't mention him to you until now…”
“It's quite alright, Princess.”
They continued the meal, Palette feeling more awkward than ever.
“Have you had any luck with your painting yet, Palette?” Twilight asked suddenly, her voice carrying a casual tone.
Palette turned her gaze to her plate, stuffing a forkful of alfalfa spaghetti in her mouth. “No.”
Twilight frowned. “That's too bad. Are you sure you don't need any help?”
“No!” Palette said shrilly, jerking up. “Not at all!”
The Princess flattened her ears and leaned away, and Palette felt her face slowly heat up.
“I – I'm terribly sorry, Princess,” she stammered. “I – I don't know what came over me, that was awfully rude, my sincerest apologies-”
“It's quite alright, Palette,” Twilight interrupted quietly, straightening herself. “You don't have to apologize.” She twisted her fork around in the pasta, her purple gaze never leaving Palette. “It's just the stress.”
“… Right.” Palette stared down at her food, afraid of what she would see in Twilight's eyes.
She slowly stabbed her silverware into the creamy brown blur in front of her, watching it squish silently into smaller and smaller pieces. Her eye twitched.
Twilight cleared her throat. “So, Pale-”
Palette abruptly stood up, forcing her chair back several feet, her fork clattering to the table. “I do apologize, Princess, but I have lost my appetite. Please forgive me, but I think I shall retire to my room for now.”
“O-of course,” Twilight stammered. She watched Palette depart swiftly from the room. The huge wooden dining room doors shut tight behind her with a dull thud.
Palette trotted through the crystal castle hallways, her eyes focused firmly on the floor. She seethed, disgruntled at having let herself crack in front of the Princess. The last thing she needed was somepony worrying over her for no reason…
The sound of shuffling limbs in front of her stopped Palette in her tracks. She looked up to see a lavender scaled baby dragon with green scales lining his back gazing sleepily back at her.
He yawned widely, then smacked his lips and rubbed his reptilian green eyes. “Hey, Palette…”
She stiffened with surprise. “Hello, Spike. Wh-what are you doing up?”
He blinked tiredly, squinting at Palette as if his eyes were out of focus. “I heard some loud yelling or somethin' comin' from the dining room. Did somethin' happen in there, or-” he yawned.
She shook her head violently. “No-no, Spike, nothing happened. Me and Twilight were just – er – discussing things, that's all. There's nothing to worry about.” She flashed him a grin that did not feel at all convincing.
Spike yawned again, scratching his cheek. “Sure sounds like somethin' happened; a loud somethin'.” He gave her a heavy-eyed look. “Are you sure you didn't do anythin', like break somethin', or-”
“No!” Palette snapped, flaring up. “Absolutely nothing happened, end of discussion!” She roughly pushed past Spike and stormed off down the hall, leaving him looking after her in a bewildered daze.
* * * * * *
Palette Whisper paced back and forth across her room, huffing angrily. She thought that perhaps if she stomped her hooves enough, snorted loudly enough, or shook her head enough, perhaps something would come to her.
She abruptly stopped in the middle of her pacing, stamping a hoof down hard in vexation. Palette twisted her head around to look towards her bedroom window, and saw a nighttime sky sprinkled with tiny white stars. A crescent moon hung motionless in the air.
Palette twisted her ears back flat against her skull, gritting her teeth together, and her pupils shrunk into small blue dots as she realized how late it was. She briskly marched over to the canvas propped up at the foot of her bed, and glared at it.
It was still blank.
She couldn't take it anymore.
Palette shrieked in fury, rearing up and bringing her hooves down on the mocking canvas, smashing it in two. She jerked around and scooped her brushes and paints from the floor, hurling them all at the wall, where they crashed in a noisy cacophony. Red and gray paint broke against the wall, oozing down it in bloody streaks.
Palette curled up at the foot of her bed, squeezing her ears shut and wrapping her forelegs around herself.
She wailed.
Twilight Sparkle burst into the room, her eyes darting about wildly. Her hair was tousled and messy, her wings spread out and ruffled. She looked as if she had just woken up. Twilight took one look at Palette.
She was over by her side in a heartbeat, wrapping her in a feathery embrace, rocking her gently back and forth with gushing, consoling promises of everything being alright and okay. Palette whimpered in despair and Twilight hushed her softly.
Spike barged into the room, and Twilight hollered orders at him. He dashed purposefully away.
Palette wept with closed eyes, streaks of tears running down her cheeks. “S-s-s, I-I-I'm s-so s-s-so sor-sorr, Tw-Twi-Tw, s-s-so-”
“Shhh.” Twilight brushed the teardrops away with a tender, downy touch. “Shh-shhh. I know.”
* * * * * *
Palette Whisper stared at the crystal wall. She sat at the foot of her bed, a thick, cerulean plush blanket snugly wrapped around her. She sniffled.
Twilight Sparkle approached with a tray of steaming mugs. “Hot cocoa?”
Palette took a cup. She breathed in the warm, savory scent. “Thank you, Princess.”
She plopped down beside her. “You're very welcome.”
The two sat and sipped at their drinks for a moment, reveling in the peaceful silence between them.
Twilight took a deep breath. “If you want, I can buy you some more art supplies when I go out today.”
Palette paused. “… I really don't think that's necessary, Princess…”
“No, really. I'd be happy to.”
“I don't think I'll need art supplies ever again,” she stated quietly, staring down into the foamy swirls of her hot cocoa.
“Now that's not true,” Twilight said in a weakly cheery voice. “You've still got that painting to finish, remember?”
Palette bit her lip, her vision blurring as she struggled to hold back the watery cascade. “I'll never finish it,” she whispered, the tears trickling out. “I'll never even start it…”
“Yes, you will,” Twilight said firmly, wrapping a wing around her. “Because I'm going to help you.”
“You aren't an artist, Twilight,” she mumbled feebly.
Twilight nodded thoughtfully. “No, I'm not. But I'll tell you what I am-
“A friend.
“And as your friend, I think that it's high time I give you someplace to start.”
Palette looked at her, confused. “Start… how?”
She smiled. “You'll see.”
Twilight stood up. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.” She trotted purposefully out of the room, leaving Palette a little anxious, yet also a little intrigued.
* * * * * *
Awhile later, Twilight finally returned, carrying a cardboard box filled with various different items.
Palette goggled at the sight of it. “What in Equestria is that?”
“Some gifts, Palette,” Twilight said, beaming brightly. “All for you!”
“For me?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yep. Some ponies heard that you were 'sad and a little lost', and so they put this present together for you, to cheer you up.” Twilight laughed. “Or at least, that’s what Pinkie said!”
Gingerly, she placed the box on the floor next to Palette. “I’m sorry I can’t stay, but I’ve got a couple errands to run out in town.”
“It’s okay, Princess, you go run your errands.” Palette warily prodded at the box. “I'll just stay and rummage around in this, if you don't mind…”
“Great! I'll see you later, Palette.”
“Bye, Princess.” Palette watched Twilight trot out of her room, then turned her attention back to her present. She flipped the lids open with her hooves, and dug around, carefully pulling out a glass jar filled with an orangey-brown liquid. A pale-orange card with the image of a vivid red apple was printed on the front.
Palette cautiously popped the lid off the jar, and gave it an experimental sniff; then a sip. The liquid sloshed down her throat, warm and sweet, with the tangy taste of apples and a hint of spice. She recognized it as apple cider, the best she had ever tasted. Palette sighed in ecstasy, then opened up the card, taking more sips of cider as she perused.
It read:
Howdy Palette,
I heard you was having a hard time, so I sent a mug of the best of Sweet Apple Acres's cider to you to make you feel better. I hope you enjoy every last drop of it.
I also heard that you was feeling like you lost yourself. You don't have to fret, Sugarcube. So long as you're honest and true to yourself, I don't think you got anything to worry about.
Yours Truly,
Applejack
Palette simply sat there for a while, staring down at Applejack's letter.
She abruptly took a huge swig of cider and thrust her hoof back into the box, pulling out a slightly smothered yellow tulip, with a pink ribbon and note tied to its green stem. Palette carefully straightened out the tulip's round, soft petals, placing it gently on the bed behind her, plucking the note off. She quickly skimmed the neat, curly lines:
Dear Palette,
I hope you're feeling better. I walked in my garden this morning and I saw this tulip, and it reminded me of you because of all the times you came by to help me water all of them. It almost looked like a drop of sunshine, and I thought that maybe it would cheer you up some more.
Don't give up, Palette, and don't be so mean to yourself, either. You are such a kind pony, and you have a good heart, and even if you can't paint very well anymore, then you will still be a very good friend. Forgive yourself.
Love,
Fluttershy
Palette sniffled. She refolded the note and tied it up with the ribbon, setting it next to the tulip, then rooted back through the box, pulling out dozens of vibrant greeting cards. She quickly leafed through them, most wishing her well and some wishing her luck. Palette only recognized several of the ponies' signatures and names; the rest were strangers, a fact that completely baffled her. There was one from Derpy as well, which brought a tiny smile to Palette's face; it consisted of a crude drawing of a muffin, with a large signature that read “Ditzy Doo” in loopy letters.
She delved back into the box and pulled out a broad, white square package in surprise. A simple white envelope lay neatly on top, tied to it with sapphire thread. Palette tugged the envelope away and flipped it open, sliding a sheet of folded white paper out. Unfolding it, she read through its entirety, admiring the elegant cursive script:
Dearest Palette,
I felt absolutely dreadful when Twilight told me of your plight! As a fellow artist, I know exactly how you feel, and I wish to remind you that all artist's blocks pass in time. I understand that it is of great importance to you to have this artwork finished as soon as possible, but I do believe you can wait just a bit longer, darling. Inspiration will strike soon enough.
I made something just for you, Palette, as I wished to express my admiration for your paintings and for you. Perhaps it will bring a smile to your face. I may not know you as well as my other friends, but I know you well enough to say absolutely not; I will not let you pay for this gift. This is not only an act of generosity from me to you, it is also a reminder for you to remember to never hold back when making art; for only then will it truly be magnificent.
Sincerely,
Rarity
Palette placed the note off to the side and tentatively untied the thread, removing the lid from the package, and pulled out the dress that lay inside. She held it out in front of her, hanging from her hooves, gaping in astonishment. Her eyes widened, taking in the smooth contours and gossamer satin of her new dress. The buttery-yellow fabric flowed like water, wrapped in a shimmering aura of quiet brilliance. Diminutive fabric buttercups and lacy jade leaves bordered the edge of her dress, and a row of minute emeralds were stitched into the collar. She was utterly speechless.
Palette clasped the gown to her chest, fighting back the burning sensation in her eyes. She laid it on her bed with the utmost of care, right beside Fluttershy's tulip, then turned back to the box.
There were only two gifts left. She pulled out the first one, a thick card with a picture of a multicolored lightning bolt on the cover, and flipped it open. A shiny golden medal fell out, landing in Palette's lap. She picked it up and held it up; it glinted and gleamed in the light. The metal had been fashioned into the shape of a star, adorned by a pair of intricately carved golden wings. Palette flipped open the card:
Hey Palette,
I'll bet you were wondering why I gave you this old badge of mine. Well, it's cuz you're awesome, like me, and I think you deserve this medal. You've been a pretty great friend of mine these past few weeks, and I want to thank you for that.
It's also cuz of what this little medal means to me – I won it a long time ago in a contest, and the only reason I beat everypony else was cuz I kept practicing at it. I busted my dumb head every day, always crashing into everything, but I just kept on going until I got it right. You do that too, kay, Palette? You keep going and just brush off the dust. You don't give up, alright? You gotta be loyal to your gig, and you'll get even better while you're at it, too.
Rainbow Dash
She stared at the slightly tarnished medal. Slowly, she slid it over next to the jar of cider that sat off to the side, and bit her lip.
Palette reached back into the cardboard box to pull out the last letter, tucked in an envelope, separating it from the pink box it was attached too, and tore it open.
A squeaky party horn blared, and rainbow streamers and confetti blasted straight into Palette's face, pummeling her with a fierce blast of air. She hacked in surprise, vigorously batting the tiny pieces of paper away, and harrumphed. She only knew of one pony who could stuff a surprise like that in a simple envelope.
Palette popped the bright-pink card out, faintly surprised that it hadn't popped out itself and smacked her in the face. She cautiously opened it up, and pored over it:
HIYA PALETTE!!!
I wanted to surprise you! SURPRISE! It's probably too late now, but oh well.
Twilight said you were really really sad, and I wanted to throw you a party, but she said it would probably be better if I just gave you a present instead, so I just got you a present! Silly Twilight, she knows that you get even more presents at a party!
Anyhow, I really really wanted to cheer you up super bad, and so I got you your favorite, all new and improved and shiny! SURPRISE AGAIN!
Just remember, Pal, you gotta be happy when you paint! You gotta be happy at what you do if you wanna do it right. Then it'll be all good and fun, like it's supposed to be!
If you need some cheering up, good ol' Auntie Pinkie will take care of you, and that's a Pinkie Promise! It'll be all Sunshine and Rainbows by the time I'm done!
(But don’t think too much about it, okay? You think too much already! How am I supposed to tell you jokes if you stare off into space all the time, silly?)
SURPRISE AGAIN AGAIN! Just wanted to make sure you got the full surprise experience!
Love From,
Pinkie Pie
P.S: SURPRISE AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN! Are you surprised yet? (probably not, ah well)
She gulped, and bit her lip, giggling a little at Pinkie's silliness. She then stretched over and grasped the pink box, sliding the cover off, and gasped.
Two flawless blueberry cupcakes sat in the container, covered in frosting. One had bright-yellow frosting in the shape of a shining sun; the other had a swirl of rainbow atop it.
Palette took two tremulous bites, one of each dessert. The sunny-cupcake tasted like sweet lemons, and melted warmly on her tongue; the rainbow-cupcake tasted fruity and sugary, a zap of flavor in her mouth. The cake part of them both was a wonderfully doughy texture, and the sweet taste of blueberries popped in her mouth with every bite.
“Mmm,” she breathed in ecstasy, leaning back against the foot of her bed. She finished them off with slow, deliberate mouthfuls, absorbing every luscious, mouthwatering bite.
She sat there for a moment. She then glanced around her at all the gifts that had been given that day.
Gradually, soundlessly, Palette started to cry.
It was a long time before she finally stopped to curl up on her bed, burrowing between the presents that sat there.
She closed her eyes, and quiet tears streamed down her face once again.
* * * * * *
“Hi, Palette.”
She was lying on her bed, deeply reflecting on the letters given, and looked up to see Twilight enter the room, something large tucked under her wing. “Hello, Princess,” Palette greeted.
“I've got a little something for you.” Twilight trotted over giddily, and Palette sat up to meet her.
“What is it, Prin-”
She interrupted her with a proud flourish, and revealed the object that had been hidden under her wing; a bright-white, gently rough, rectangular canvas.
Palette stared. She reached out a wavering hoof, and let it slide over the canvas surface, shivering slightly at the perfect texture. Palette looked up at Twilight, her eyes wide. “Wh-where did you get this, Twilight? H-how did you get this, this is the most gorgeous canvas I've ever seen-”
“I've been running all over Ponyville to find this,” Twilight giggled. “There's so many artisans that live here, but I wanted to look all day to make sure that I'd find the best one-”
“And you did it just for – o-oh-oh, Twilight, thank you, thank you!” Palette gasped, her eyes tearing up, and she embraced her in a warm, earnest hug.
Twilight grinned, and squeezed her back. “You're very welcome, Palette.”
“Oh, but Twilight,” Palette choked out, half-sobbing, “why would you waste your bits on me, you know I can't paint anything anymore-”
“I did not waste my bits,” Twilight said firmly, pushing Palette away to look her in the eye. “You are my friend, Palette. You are completely worth putting all my bits on.
“And you can paint. I know you can. You just need some of these.” The Princess pulled out a beautiful wooden box, decorated with minuscule carvings of ivy leaves and roses. She unclasped the lid with her magic and flipped it open; lying neatly inside were several soft-headed brushes, an elegantly curved palette, and supple tubes of colorful paint.
Palette inhaled sharply. “All of this… for me?”
Twilight nodded.
Palette briefly thought about the gifts she had received that day, and realized that it had all been because of Twilight.
She started to cry, fat wet droplets rolling down her cheeks. “Th-thank you, Twilight… oh, do forgive me, I'm always crying, aren't I?” she laughed weakly, brushing the tears away with a hoof.
She stared at the paint set and canvas, and something flickered lightly in the back of her mind. “T-Twilight?”
Twilight smiled understandingly. “I'll leave you to it.” The Princess rose from her seat, and walked placidly out of the room. The doors shut gently behind her.
Palette sat for a long, long moment.
Then she shifted.
She stretched over, and hefted the palette up. With her other hoof, she poured out drops of glossy purple paint, then reached for another tube and squeezed out a smidgen of white. She picked up a brush, and blended the two colors together in a swirl of harmonious lavender.
Palette propped the perfect canvas up in front of her, and slowly, slowly; she painted.
* * * * * *
Princess Celestia gazed over the painting in her hooves. The resplendent snowy-white alicorn gradually absorbed the painting in front of her, her flowing multicolored mane rippling persistently in the tense, expectant silence.
Palette stood beside her throne, waiting with bated breath for the Princess's next words.
After a seemingly endless stretch of stillness, Celestia twisted the painting around to show the front of it to Palette. “This is abstract, correct?” she asked in dulcet, benevolent tones.
Palette nodded stiffly.
She smiled kindly. “Can you tell me what it means, Palette?”
Palette cleared her throat, glancing over her creation once again. Small dots of paint in hundreds of colors were scattered throughout the whole of the canvas, transforming it into a vivid, rainbow display. A lavender star sat in the center, with twisting tendrils that flowed from it like roots from a tree trunk. Each thin tendril stretched and curved outwards, barely stroking multiple colored dots with a soft, caressing touch. In the middle of the star were six miniature hearts; one orange, one yellow, one white, one blue, one pink, and one a shade of purple that was almost white.
It was a stunning piece.
“It's… it's Equestria, your Highness. Equestria and… and Princess Twilight Sparkle.”
Celestia looked back over the painting and understood. She turned back to Palette with a warm, benign sparkle in her coral-pink eyes. “Thank you for painting this, Palette. It is an absolutely beautiful work of art.”
“I'm sorry I didn't finish it sooner-”
“Now, don't be sorry, Palette.” The Princess levitated it above her head and hummed contentedly. “Masterpieces take time. I'd almost dare to say this could be your magnum opus.” She looked back at Palette, amused. “But, you are young, and I have no doubt that I can expect even greater things from you, in time.”
“Thank you, Princess.” Palette beamed, bowing her head in respect.
“Where do you think I should place this?” she asked mirthfully.
“Ah – um – wah – well – wherever you want it, P-princess.”
“I think I'll put it in the Masters' Hall,” she proposed, relishing at the look of astonished elation on Palette's face. “I'd say it deserves it.”
“O-oh-oh-oh, Princess, thank you!” she breathed in delight.
Princess Celestia smiled. “No, thank you, Palette, for this wonderful work of art. You are the best of the best, and your masterpieces are just as wonderful as you are; that is why you are my most treasured artist, Palette Whisper.”