Really? Waffles?
Twilight Sparkle tried to nestle down deeper and deeper into the absurdly soft and comfortable mattress that made up her Princessly bed, to little avail. She knew that Celestia’s sun was even now hammering on her windows at the Castle of Friendship, demanding she arise and greet the new day. And, if she hadn’t spent a breathtaking amount of time researching the previous night, she might very well have been in a mood to acquiesce to the sun.
As it was, the tempting song of slumber was calling her back down into Luna’s realm, and for once, Twilight was going to let it happen.
Alas, it was not meant to be.
“Good morning!” Spike called out as he kicked in the door to her private room in the Castle of Friendship, “Rise and shine! Up and at ‘em!”
“Eugh,” was all the mountain of blankets called Mount Twilight said, in an unenthusiastic groan.
“Huh, it’s kinda weird with me being up first,” Spike laughed, and started back out of the room.
“Come on, sleepy head,” he said over his shoulder, “You got a meeting with that architect, Fetlock Ride, at eleven, to talk about the Friendship School’s design…”
Twilight, still huddled in her warm, bedding-cocoon, smiled at the thought of building her own school…
“… and then you have a few royal appearances due in Canterlot before dinner. Looks like a couple of museum openings, the grand opening of a new Burger Princess…”
A flicker of light went up through Twilight’s body, from her heart to her horn. Those sounded absolutely delightful! Maybe even enough so that she could force herself awake, even now…
Spike hummed, “Too bad Blueblood is your official liaison to the city for the day.”
It was official. Twilight’s mood was ruined.
“I hate being a Princess,” the mound of sleeping pony announced in a groggy, sleep-slurred voice, “It’s stupid.”
The helpful little dragon poked his head back into the room, even as he rolled his eyes.
“Oh, and I almost forgot,” he lied, “You’ve got your weekly breakfast with Pinkie Pie in a couple minutes. Come on! She’s already got the kitchen warmed up!”
The pile of blankets paused. Its lone occupant shifted about… and then sighed.
“Alright. I’ll be down in a minute. Princesses need to eat too.”
Spike chuckled, and left his big sister to her business, licking his lips with the promise of scrambled eggs and gemstones downstairs.
Twilight finally crawled out from underneath her covers. She knew she had to get ready to face the day, and so resolved... to give sleep another five minutes, then hit up her royal chambers.
When she finally made it down to the steps to the main hall of the crystalline Castle of Friendship, Twilight, freshly cleaned and pressed, took in the sight with a relaxed smile. The way the light glistened off the walls and the air hummed with an arcane echo, Twilight couldn’t help but think it was the most beautiful castle she’d ever seen. Every time she saw it, it was almost like seeing the castle for the first time…
And then it hit her. The delectable scent of Pinkie Pie’s cooking. There were eggs. There were hash browns. There was even hay-bacon.
And there was, surely, a stack of pancakes a meter-high waiting for her in the throne room.
Twilight raced down the hall, and came to an almost skidding stop at the room she sought. Inside, a pink pony with an utterly ridiculous mass of springy pink mane merrily circled the room, finishing up the two placements, and singing a happy tune to herself.
“Hiya Twilight!” Pinkie cheered, and slid a covered plate across the Cutie Map Table with her tail, “Rarity just dragged Spike off to… something involving fashion. I wasn’t paying attention. You stay up researchin’ something super-duper neat-o-rific last night?”
The alicorn smiled, and started trotting around the table towards her own seat, eyes hungrily, er, eyeing the covered plate as it came to a perfect stop. Even if cooking wasn’t exactly her specialty, Pinkie’s breakfasts were to die for, and Twilight had to pace herself now, or else she’d take off at a gallop trying to slurp up that delicious meal waiting for her.
“Sorry, yeah,” she tittered and blushed, “But, you know me! Once an egghead, always an egghead!”
Pinkie grinned, and took her own seat, a covered plate already set for herself. “You starting to pick up other ponies’ lingo, eh? Should I be worried you’re gonna start saying ‘super-duper’? Or, ‘darling’? Or apples?”
Her ice-blue eyes widened.
“That would actually be so cool… er, awesome,” she corrected herself, “Assuming I get to use Dashie’s stuff too!”
Twilight laughed as she took her seat. “Never change, Pinkie.”
She took in the sight of the metal cover, and the sight of her own reflection staring back.
“What did you make for us this time?” she asked, her eyes, and her growling stomach, focused entirely on that mystery dish.
“Only the greatest breakfast food ever!” Pinkie cried out in her typical enthusiasm, one hoof reaching out to remove both covers despite Pinkie herself remaining on the opposite end of the table, “And my personal favorite…”
The pink party planner pony ripped away the metal covers on both dishes at the same time, revealing…
“Waffles!!!!”
There were eggs. And there were hashbrowns. Hay bacon? Only the finest, yes!
But the main dish was something else entirely. Under each cover had been stacked a veritable mountain of waffles. Each pile was topped with a heavy head of whipped cream, embedded with chocolate chips, strawberries, and utterly glazed… no! Soaked with butter and syrup.
“Look at them!” Pinkie squeed, clapping her hooves together, “Just look at them!”
“They’re…” Twilight said, haltingly, “… waffles?”
Pinkie gasped, eyes widening by the second. “What do you mean!?”
Twilight yipped in shock as her pinkest of friends suddenly sidled up beside her.
“Just Waffles!?”
“I never said just…”
Pinkie shouted, “Look here!” and actually grabbed Twilight’s head in between her hooves. She dragged the Alicorn closer to the stack of waffles, and made sure to get the most aesthetically pleasing angle possible.
“Do you see the way they’re still slightly steamy?” asked Pinkie, “It’s like the waffle is breathing warm steam, even now. It’s in the perfect porous state to absorb maximum syrup!”
“Pinkie! Let go of my…!”
“And here!” Pinkie redirected her again. “You can see the syrup is juuuust overflowing the confines of the nooks! There, a glorious alchemical concoction of butter and melted sugar is mixing together into a lather, and that lather is soaking up into the whipped cream.
“All of that…!” she cried out, bringing her own face nose to nose with Twilight again, “… a literal creamy sea for the fruits and chocolate chips to swim in! It’s a thing of beauty, Twi! A gestalt pastry, combining all the greatest elements into one!”
Pinkie took a breath, not seeming to notice the panic in Twilight’s eyes.
“Huh,” the pink pony glanced up towards the ceiling, “In a way, I guess waffles are the perfect metaphorical friendship food. Nifty!”
Twilight felt the hooves leave her face, allowing her to crash back down onto the table while Pinkie Pie merrily bouncy-bounced her way back to her own plate. The alicorn slowly, gingerly, picked herself back up, and shot her friend an unamused glare.
Pinkie sat down, and eagerly rubbed her hooves together. Apparently dispensing with utensils entirely, she began the process of unhinging her jaw, and taking aim at the stack of delicious, steaming, mouth-watering breakfast cakes.
And Twilight’s mind began to run a few… calculations.
“Okay, so you really like waffles,” she grunted, non-commitally.
Pinkie paused, mere inches standing between waffles and her open maw.
“Like waffles?” Pinkie said, quizzically, her jaw returning to normal pony proportions, “Twilight, I don’t just like waffles. They’re my favorite breakfast food! I feel like I totally just got done explaining the fluffiness thing…”
“You said that, yes,” Twilight said slowly, nodding along. Then, without changing her tone, she added, “But you said that about pancakes last week.”
Pinkie, jaw re-unhinging, paused.
“Oh?” she asked, eyes still riveted to the waffles below, “D-did I?”
“Yes, you did,” Twilight hummed, barely concealing her amusement, “And it also just occurred to me…”
Pinkie’s eyes, shrinking pupils and all, glacially raised themselves up until they were locked with the growing smirk on Twilight’s face.
“… Last time I was in the human world,” Twilight continued, “When the girls and I had breakfast... that Pinkie Pie's favorite food was also waffles.”
The crystalline walls of the Castle of Friendship practically rang out with the awkward silence that followed.
“Huh,” Pinkie huh’d, failing to fill the silent void between her and Twilight, “That’s an interesting coincidence. That… that human Pinkie sounds like she has good taste.”
“Pinkie…” Twilight warned.
But the pink pony was moving now.
“Oh! Would you look at the time!” she held out her bare foreleg, as if some time-tellering device was supposed to be attached there, “I gotta get going to the thing I totally had planned for today. Nice seeing you, Twi!”
Pinkie darted from her chair, only for the huge doors to the throne room to slam shut in her face. Momentum meant that she still left an imprint of the main door latch in her muzzle, but the springy pony shook herself off, and turned back to her royal friend.
“Hey!” she whined, “That totally wasn’t an excuse, you know!”
“Pinkie…”
“Not all of us get to sit on our hiney’s all day, eating chocolate… wait, that’s me too…”
Twilight raised her tone. “Pinkie!”
“When did Twilight the Sparkle abandon reason for madness?” Pinkie retorted. Then, she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe the wings are finally restricting enough blood flow to…”
“Pinkie!” Twilight cried, silencing her protestations. Then, more softly, “Which Pinkie are you?”
Pinkie’s ears wilted as she drew her lips into a thin line.
“Come on, Twi,” she sighed, eyes watering, “Is that really a question you should ask one of your very best-bestest friends? It’s me, Pinkie Pie! The Pony Pinkie Pie!”
The two ponies faced each other from across the table. Twilight, stern and in royal command. Pinkie acting every part the puppy dog pony with a soulful look in her eyes. Her last words still echoed, distantly, through the crystal walls and Cutie table, a light rattle even touching upon Twilight’s hooves, set against the table’s surface.
Finally, Twilight relented.
“Oh, fine,” she sighed, rolling her eyes, “I believe you. You are Pinkie Pie. Pony.”
“Yay!” Pinkie leapt for joy, springing as she did. “Thank you, Twilight! Thank you for believing in…”
“Guess it’s time to destroy the Mirror,” Twilight said in a business-like voice, and rose from her throne.
Pinkie froze, mid-air, a look of surprise on her face.
“Uh… what?”
“Yeah, come on!” Twilight chuckled, “You can help!”
Pinkie Pie stared, eyes wide as saucers, at her friend as Twilight cantered away from breakfast, opening the doors ahead of her with a casual flick of her horn. Yet, the alicorn wasn’t to go very far, as she soon found Pinkie sliding into the doorway ahead of her.
“Y-you don’t mean that, do you!?” Pinkie asked, walking backward to avoid Twilight crashing into her.
Twilight never broke stride. She simply smiled, and asked, “Why not?”
“B-but that would mean never seeing your… our other friends on the… the human side of the Mirror!” Pinkie reared up onto her hind legs, managing to walk backwards without complication, which left her forehooves to gesticulate wildly in front of her. She even managed to keep on track towards the Mirror room, her body seemingly anticipating the direction in which Twilight was traveling.
She continued, in a slightly shriller tone, “You’ll never hear from Sunset again!”
“I’ve already discussed it with her, Pinkie,” Twilight said, her smile tinged with a touch of sadness, “But it’s for the best. Without the Mirror, Equestrian magic would stop leaking into the human world. Without that excess magic, their world will find balance again. It’s simple as that.”
“But… but Sunset’s a pony!” Pinkie cried, her four limbs suddenly stretching out in all directions, anchoring her directly in the frame of the Mirror Room’s doorway, “She’ll never be able to come home again!”
Twilight paused, almost examining how Pinkie was physically doing what she was doing, before she simply teleported five feet forward, past the room’s impromptu guard.
“Sunset feels more at home there, than here,” she said, her magic gripping the edge of the Mirror’s cover-sheet and drawing it off the arcane engineering marvel, “Like I said, we’ve talked a lot about this, and Sunset’s already given me the go-ahead.”
“What!?” asked Pinkie, more distressed than ever, and now trailing behind the alicorn, “But… but she never said anything…”
Twilight hummed quietly to herself as she examined the Mirror one more time.
“We agreed that we couldn’t risk it,” she said, her magic now hefting – Pinkie swallowed hard at the sight – a massive sledgehammer that had been lying behind the Mirror itself, “At least, not until we were sure we had the right Pinkies in the right universes.
“And now that I know you’re the right Pinkie Pie,” she brought the hammer to bear, taking a few, gentle, practice swings, “I can finally…”
“STOP!”
A pink body suddenly appeared in front of Twilight, just as she began her backswing.
“Please! STOP!” Pinkie shouted, tears streaming, “Don’t do it!!!”
Twilight paused. She lowered the hammer, but only by a few degrees.
“Oh? Pinkie? But why?” she asked, a light smirk slowly emerging on her lips, “You are, surely, my very own Pinkie, aren’t you? The one I’ve known ever since moving here?”
Pinkie collapsed onto the crystal floor, hooves wrapping around Twilight’s fore-ankles.
“Alright! Alright! I’ll fess up!” she half-wailed, half-groaned, “It’s… I’m the other Pinkie Pie. The human one!”
“Really?” Twilight said, her eyes widening, and her voice… straining, somewhat, “But I thought you said…”
Pinkie sighed, “Okay, I get it! I said some things. I am not Pony Pinkie! So, you can’t destroy the Mirror. You just can’t!”
Twilight watched her friend writhing on the floor with a slight smirk on her lips. Tilting her head to one side, she let the hammer slip from her magical grip, and crash into the floor behind her.
“I’m not going to break the Mirror, Pinkie,” she said, patting Pinkie on the top of her head with one hoof.
Pinkie blinked, her eyes unfocused.
“You… you won’t?”
“Of course not!” Twilight laughed, lightly picking her friend up as she added, “That’d be insane!”
Pinkie sniffed, and shook her head. Then, with a furrow in her brow, she asked, “So… all that with Sunset…?”
“I think we talked about getting a tracker placed on one of you,” Twilight chuckled, “But destroying the Mirror? No.”
Pinkie’s frown deepened, and her mane straightened, ever so slightly.
“And Sunset doesn’t want to close it off or destroy it, either?”
Twilight shook her head.
“You lied to me?”
The purple alicorn smiled, chagrined, and said, “More playing a prank, I’d say. And you’ve been lying to us all for a while now, haven’t you?”
Pinkie’s face fell, and she sighed.
“Yeah… you’re right, Twilight,” she moped, “But it… it was just so much fun, you know?”
“I know, Pinkie.”
Pinkie glanced up to the taller pony. “Do I… have to go back now?”
Twilight’s face scrunched up, and a quizzical eyebrow raised.
“No? Of course not!” she laughed, “We haven’t finished breakfast!”
The pink pony’s mane poofed up instantly, curls and kinky springs rolling out as a smile blazed its way across her face.
“Really!?” she squeed delightedly, if in a state of shock, “Ya mean it?”
“Of course, Pinkie.” Twilight laid a comforting wing over Pinkie’s shoulder, and began leading her out of the Mirror room. “I mean, you will go back afterward. And you have to promise me you won’t do this ever again.”
Pinkie nodded, vigorously. “Oh, you betcha! I won’t…!”
“Pinkie Promise?”
Pinkie stopped dead in her tracks. Twilight carried on walking a few more feet before she too came to a stop, and turned back to look at her friend.
“A… a Pinkie Promise?” A rictus grin settled onto Pinkie’s features, and sweat drops ran down the side of her head. “Do… Do we really hafta go to all that trouble?”
Twilight’s brow furrowed into a stern, academic frown.
“Yes, I think so,” she said in a manner that rather sounded a lot like something Principal Luna might practice saying to herself in a mirror, “Considering how often Sunset and I think you’ve done this already.”
Pinkie’s cheeks inflated as she sucked in air. She held her breath, despite how it was making her eyes bulge and her coat turn blue, for several long, worrisome seconds. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, she let it all out.
“Fiiiiiiiine,” she groaned, “I guess I have no choice.”
Pinkie, mane deflating a little more, looked up to Twilight, and sighed again. Then, the sigh turned into a dry, mirthless chuckle.
And then, as the chuckle became a titter, a little bit of her smile genuinely came back.
“You…” she shook her head, ruefully, “You, Twilight, are an evil genius!”
Twilight, in spite of herself, and the seriousness of the moment, allowed herself a satisfied smirk.
“Oh?” she asked, “How so?”
“You pulled one over on me, Pinkie Pie!” Pinkie laughed, slapping her own forehead with a hoof, “I mean, I’m no Dashie, but I’m a regular party prankster pony, you know?”
“Ah, well,” Twilight demurred, and shrugged, “I’m not as strait-laced as you all seem to make me out to be. You forget that I can be cunning, as well as smart…”
“You sure are!” Pinkie chirruped, and bounced in place. “You’re the smartest, most cunningest person I know!”
Twilight fought down the grin creeping at the edges of her otherwise stoic composure.
“Ah, Pinkie? You going to make that promise soon, or…?”
Then, sidling up to her friend, Pinkie added, “We should celebrate your honorable victory! Where’s your selfie-drone? No one will believe it if you don’t have a picture!”
Twilight rolled her eyes.
“Sorry, Pinkie,” she said, shaking her head, “The Mark 2 is still in the shop for… repairs…”
Twilight’s face froze. Her whole body did, in fact.
She quietly, desperately, hoped that Pinkie’s vision and hearing were based on movement. But the looming apple-eating grin, all teeth and crinkled eyes on a pink muzzle, would not be denied.
“Oh?” Pinkie whispered, “Twilight? What was that you just said?”
Twilight swallowed. Her mouth was as dry as a sandy desert.
“Um…”
Pinkie was already at her side, her eyebrow raised. She reached one hoof out, slowly, and flicked Twilight’s wing. The shuddering, flapping echo reverberated off the crystalline walls, like the sound of a metal diving board, or a plank of wood. Very un-wing-like, if you asked Pinkie’s opinion.
“Mechanical wings?” she asked, knowing the answer already.
Twilight lowered her head. “… yeah…”
“Concealed five-inch platform horseshoes?”
“And I’m wearing contacts,” Twilight sighed, eyes on the floor.
Pinkie’s nose touched Twilight’s, bringing that grin back into the purple egghead’s field of view.
“So… looks like I’m not gonna be making that promise after all, huh?” said Pinkie.
Twilight sighed, again, and turned back towards the throne room.
“No,” she said, glumly. “No, I don’t think so.”
The two ponies made their way back to the Map Table, one sullen and silent, and the other springing along behind her.
“Aw, cheer up Twi!” Pinkie sang as she bounced, “I won’t tell anyone – or pony – about you trading places with the Princess…”
She paused, mid-air, and came down slowly. Her face had scrunched up again.
“Huh?” she puzzled, “Why did you two swap places? Me and Pony Me do it because… well, we’re Pinkie Pie! Why not? But you…?”
Twilight entered the throne room once more, though with far less enthusiasm than before. She looked back over her shoulder – sadly noting how her right wing’s servo was still fidgeting after Pinkie tested it – and said, “I fill in for Princess Twilight whenever she needs a break from her duties. I get to practice real magic, and she gets to take time off and relax.
“Or,” Twilight groaned while making her way towards her breakfast, “she goes on a date with Flash Sentry.”
“Oh!” Pinkie laughed, “Well that sounds…”
She paused.
Then, after a few rapid eye-blinks, Pinkie asked, “Wait… isn’t Flash dating Sunset again?”
Twilight had reached her plate of waffles. She eyed the stack of fluffy, warm, gooey goodness for only a moment before she reached out, and simply snapped up a heavy mouthful of its delicious bounty.
After a long moment, filled only by Pinkie’s awkward stare and Twilight’s moaning delight at the divine breakfast she’d been offered, the faux-alicorn looked back to her friend.
“Apparently,” she breathed heavily through her nose, “Equestrians have a type of relationship called… a herd.”
Pinkie’s eyes widened.
“So, Sunset and Princess Twilight are…?”
Twilight nodded.
“Flash is good with it, obviously,” she said, before burying her head in her waffles and allowing herself the simple pleasure of unrestrained gluttony.
Pinkie Pie’s eyes glazed over, for a moment. Perhaps it was in wonder, or it was a form of Pinkie Sense premonition. But whatever it was, it passed as soon as it had appeared.
She shrugged, and went back to her own breakfast stack with gusto, a single thought left in her mind as she did so.
Go Flash.