Hello everypony! I'm the overly wordy anonypony who recently introduced over on /hi/. As you can see I've chosen a name, and it's hopefully one that will stick and become recognisable hereabouts - we're all here to make friends, after all. ^_^

I've written a little summat which I am eager to share with you. Since I'm totally new to MiF (and, indeed, ponies in general), I thought the best thing to write would be a simple, thoughtful piece, without too much reference to canon; in this case, something of a character study of Twilight just before the series starts, so this could be part prologue, I guess.

I am uncertain of how to submit it - general procedure seems to be to submit fanfiction as an image document, but I don't know how to achieve the clear and simple format shown in other story submissions. I have asked and was told that simple Copy+Paste is also acceptable, so I'm running with that for now: if anyone would prefer that I submit in image format, please let me know how and I would be glad to oblige with any future submissions.

So, here it is! Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Love out.

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Twilight awoke with a start. The familiar surroundings of the library greeted her, blanketed in silent darkness. A cursory glance at the veritable fort of books she’d constructed around herself revealed that Twilight had fallen asleep reading. She sighed, reflecting that this was an altogether too common occurence. Still, she’d only dozed off for a short while this time, instead of spending another whole night in the library.

Twilight yawned – but muffled the sound with a hoof, partly out of good manners but mostly to leave the silence unbroken. As she stood and stretched her aching legs, something slid down off of her back: her blanket, it turned out to be. Twilight could only surmise that Spike had settled it over her before going to snuggle up under his own. She felt a vague sense of irritation that he hadn’t simply woken her up that she might sleep in her bed, but was grudgingly touched by the gesture. After all, this had happened before, and when asked about it Spike always said that he hadn’t the heart to wake her.

Spike really was a good friend, Twilight thought to herself as she stacked that night’s reading away for re-shelving the next morning. Possibly her only friend, apart of course from the Princess. She didn’t have many, and that was the way she liked it. Twilight marvelled at the way that some ponies could chat all day without needing any time to themselves. Going out into Canterlot – or, perish the thought, Ponyville – for even the briefest jaunt often left Twilight feeling exhausted and incapable of concentration. However, she could always be sure that the silence of the library would calm her. This bastion of books was the immoveable centre of her Equestria.

Trotting over to a window and silvering herself in the diffuse glow of the moon and stars, Twilight looked out over the surrounding buildings. It was probably pretty late by now: the flickering sea of lights that sprang into being at the onset of evening was now reduced to a handful. She wondered what kind of people would still be burning candles at this hour – before reminding herself that she would have been doing so too had Spike not snuffed them out before retiring. Even so, they were probably just partygoers reluctant to let the night end: people with absolutely no discipline, Twilight concluded – her frequent inability to pass the night in her own bed didn’t count, since all considerations came secondary to study. A pony has to have the right priorities, after all.

Twilight gathered up her blanket and traipsed to her room, letting out another muffled yawn. Despite her insistence that she needed but a few friends, she did at times indulge in fantasies of what it might be like to have more, and truly close friends at that. She even dreamed of it from time to time. These dreams, be they of the day or night variety, were never very specific – after all, how could she imagine in detail that of which she had so little firsthand knowledge? – but they tended to be tied together by a common theme of... Twilight found it difficult to describe, but returning to reality after such dreams either made her really happy that she’d had them or really sad that they weren’t real; usually both. It was a poignant, bittersweet feeling. Twilight couldn’t understand it, and she didn’t like things that she couldn’t understand. Such memories were pushed into the farthest back-shelves of her mind, there to gather dust.

As she settled into bed that night, Twilight feared for a moment that her life would be like this forever. Not that she was complaining, of course: she was infinitely grateful to Princess Celestia for the royal provision which allowed her to spend her every waking moment attending to the truly important matters of life, instead of having to fret about practical matters of no great importance as those other poor foals out there had to, and would forever carry out her duty as eagerly and strenuously as possible to show her eternal gratitude, but...

And that was it. But. Twilight could never put her hoof on it, but there was something about her life; something missing, or something not quite working in the way that it should. Oh, she was happy enough, most days, and wouldn’t swap her life for any other, but...

Twilight breathed deeply, laying aside these nagging doubts. If she was to be up bright and early tomorrow morning to continue her studies there could be no lollygagging around: she had to get her sleep and get it now. She had already fallen short, allowing herself to spend part of the night in the library, and would likely feel less rested the next day as a result. Thankfully, Twilight was skilled in the art of concentration and was soon able to clear her mind.

Twilight Sparkle went to sleep... and dreamed of friends.