A Captive Audience

“Trixie!? Could you come down here, please?” Nnn. Is that -- Twilight? Why is Twilight’s bed next to a window? Doesn’t she know that you can’t sleep in with the sun in your eyes? “Trixie! I need you to run an errand for me! Besides, it’s almost midday; you need to get up.” How does she expect me to do that? In fact -- after last night, how is she up so early? Whatever; I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if Trixie rolled over and took a few more minutes.

The next second, a cold wind sweeps over me and I’m floating from the bed. As I pry one eye open, Twilight crosses the ceiling towards me, horn glowing blurrily. “Trixie. I’ve been calling up to you for twenty minutes. You can’t stay in bed all day; it’s not healthy, and besides, I really need you to do something for me.”

I let my eyes close and my legs droop onto my belly. “Whad is it, Twiligh?”

“Fluttershy said she needed some pet medicine, something for indigestion. I guess she couldn’t buy it from the veterinarian, so I promised I’d look into it for her, get someone to make it, and bring her a few doses. I finally found the formula, but I don’t have time to get it ready and deliver it, so -- would you do it for me? Please?”

A yawn draws my body taut. Fluttershy’s medicine. I try to turn on my side, but can’t; this cloud isn’t very accommodating. “Do I have to?” I remember Fluttershy coming by the day after that thing with Rainbow Dash. Was it yesterday, or the day before? She’s so nice; she even brought a basket of fruit and cookies to apologize for barging in. Of course I want to help her, but -- it’s just so much warmer and comfier in bed, under a blanket or two. I crack an eye open again. “Can I do it later?”

“I’d really rather you did it now.” As Twilight turns around, the cloud starts carrying me off behind her. The rocking and bouncing is starting to get nauseating. “I mean, I’ve been thinking. You’ve pretty much sequestered yourself in the library for the past two weeks; you need to get out, walk around town, meet a few ponies. I’ll tell you what the Princess told me,” She turns back to me with that lovely little smile; if there’s anything to open your eyes for, it’s that. “Make some friends! It worked for me, and it’ll work for you!”

“Work for me?” Now we’re going upstairs into the -- library? “Whadyou mean? And could you put the tables back on the floor?”

She giggles and nuzzles my face briefly. “Come on, sleepyhead; three hours should be more than enough! Oh well, I have just the thing to wake you up.”

It seems like a long instant of books and tables and a truly mythical mountain of scrolls, and then we’re outside, the cloud looking to return to its bright, evil master. “Twilight! What’s happening!?”

“Hold your breath!” Twilight cries, sounding like the little filly who got the sweet part of the alfalfa bale.

“Wha-” Cold, cold water splashes in my mouth, through my mane, down my chest. A shiver runs down my body as I cough it up.

“Rise and shine, O Great and Somnolent Trixie!”

Spitting that foul, treacherous water and trying to thrash my coat dry, I look around. Between my legs and behind me, the library tree rises up into a cloudless sky. Upside down in front of me, Twilight is failing to hide a grin behind her hoof. My mane is pooling on the ground, leaving my neck cold and naked. Wait -- on the ground? Looking at the wavering purple glow around her horn, I finally understand -- she’s holding me upside down! “Twilight Sparkle! Trixie is not a toy to be manhandled like this! Put Trixie down this instant!”

“As you command, my wet and sodden Trixie!”

The drop is only a few inches, but after the sun and the water and the betrayal, the soft grass and soil is like a bed of cold rock covered in a quilt of pins. As I turn over, I see the accursed trough she got the water from, but no bucket. Twilight and her magic… “Twilight, why are you doing this to me!?”

“To get you up, silly! Besides, it’s not that bad.” She holds a hoof out to me with a radiant grin. “My brother used to do this to me all the time whenever I would sleep in. I mean, it’s actually kind of fun, isn’t it?”

For a second, I can’t bear to look at her for how mad I am, but -- she is my marefriend; it’s not like I can just ignore her gesture, so I take her hoof and stand. “I think we have very different definitions of fun.”

“Come on,” she says as she pecks my cheek, “There’s nothing to be mad about.”

“Don’t, ‘Come on,’ me! You could’ve just shaken me, y’know! Or -- snuggled me awake, or -- or something other than carrying me out here like a little doll and trying to drown me!”

Rolling her eyes, she says, “I wasn’t trying to drown you.” She plants herself between me and the library door and points a hoof at me. “Listen, you can’t just sleep all day, and you weren’t exactly being receptive to my other attempts, so I had to resort to extreme measures!”

She’s right, unfortunately. Even if I kept my own schedule when I was travelling and performing, I still had to wake up, pull the wagon, and make it to the next show if I wanted to eat -- or bask in the glorious affection of other ponies. “You’re right, Twilight; I’m sorry. I guess living with you has made Trixie soft. Give Trixie some time to dry off, and she will run your errand. After all, Trixie doesn’t want to be a burden.”

Twilight puts her forelegs around me, around my soaked coat and mane. Well, sometimes a small bit of revenge is the best you can get. “You aren’t a burden, sweetie, and you never could be.” She puts her lips to my forehead for a long, sure kiss. “You’re too great and powerful to let that happen.”

The way she says that sends shivers down my spine. “Twilight,” I whisper into her ear, “You have to stop talking like that, or Trixie won’t be responsible for making Fluttershy wait.”

“No! Bad Trixie!” She playfully pushes me away, laughing. “And you need to wait until we’re inside for talk like that -- unless you’re actually intending to put on an exhibition this time.”

Well, it’s time to get inside. As I put a foreleg around Twilight’s neck and pull her inside, my face burns like a neon sign advertising terror and humiliation. Apparently, it sells; a few ponies across the street are staring at us with flat faces. “No.” Closing the door is hard when I can’t breath. “No. When somepony watches us, I’m going to know who she is, and it’s going to be a private show! A very private show! Exclusive!” I don’t need any more ponies around here thinking I’m some kind of idiot, or freak, or -- or screw-up.

“Oh, honey.” Twilight laughs and starts walking to the kitchen. “Listen, why don’t you go dry off, and I’ll make some breakfast -- or lunch, I guess.” She stops at the door. “And, Trixie, tonight you’ll have to tell me about that private show; tell me who you’d invite, what we’d -- Spike!” Behind me, the baby dragon clears his throat. “H-hi, Spike! Are you done reshelving the flora section? Ready for some lunch?”

“Yeah. Hey, Trixie,” he says lazily as he walks past me, “Man, who knew there were so many books on plants? I mean, I know they’re important, but it’s like a third of the library! So, what are you making?”

I let my attention drift as they leave. Hey, Trixie. It’s not much, but if Spike can talk to me so casually, then maybe there’s hope for the other ponies around town. Heading upstairs to the bathroom, scenes from the other day keep running through my head. While Rainbow Dash barging in was bad, at least it was relatively private. My greatness and power, Twilight’s brilliance, Rainbow Dash’s supposed loyalty, Fluttershy’s kindness: none of it stopped Twilight and I from walking through town looking and smelling like two sexy mares without a bit of sense or decency, which, I guess, isn’t too far from the truth. Although, that’s not really fair; after the fighting and the accusations and the whole living-with-Twilight thing -- we all had a lot on our minds, especially after a couple of bright ponies decided for all of us that we needed to go to Sugarcube Corner right then.

Even now, in the bathroom at the top of the library scrubbing my mane with a towel that’s so fluffy and pink it hurts, I can’t help cringing, trying to shrink my neck into my shoulders so nopony can see me. The way Mrs. Cake glared at me, so full of disdain. You. You’re the one that made me waste all my cakes on that crazy throne and had me neglecting my babies to make frosting-only cupcakes. I don’t want you… She stopped when she finally took in my and Twilight’s condition. I think her grin was worse than her scowl; at least there had been something in the scowl besides amusement and dismissal. Oh. Oh! Twilight! I never took you for the bad girl type, dear! Well, this one isn’t going to cause any more heartache, is she? Got her bit and bridle on tight? Good. Then go get washed up you two, and if you’re not back in ten minutes, I’ll come drag you out myself, no matter how sexy you’re getting.

That’s a shivery thought. I don’t want that old nag touching me or my Twilight, especially after suggesting that Trixie could or should be bridled. Needless to say, we were out in five, if that. Then the way all of the others kept staring at me and whispering and smirking behind their hooves almost made me say some disastrous things -- except for Fluttershy. It will be nice to see her again. Running a brush through my forelock, I practice my smile; even if it’s just an errand, I still need to be beautiful.

That should be enough; besides, I can smell something wafting upstairs, something worth grinning about, something that takes me to that first morning after coming back. I guess she decided on breakfast after all. “Twilight!” I cry, taking the stairs two at a time, “Is that pancakes Trixie smells?”

As I gallop across the library floor, Twilight calls out, “Yes! Come and get it! Spike’s already started, and there’s a plate set out for you!”

I skid to a stop outside the kitchen, and there they are on the table: a stack of golden pancakes five high, covered in thick streams of syrup and topped by a big, gooey scoop of butter. On the other side of the table, Spike holds a fork and knife over a comparable but ravaged stack, savoring its destruction with wide, noisy munching. And standing at the stove, wearing an apron the same pink as her cutie mark, is the wonderful goddess responsible for this bounty -- the pony who made these pancakes, just for me. “Thank you, Twilight. Trixie will make sure to appreciate every bite of the feast you’ve provided!”

Spike looks up with a grin, his little fangs covered in pancake crumbs and his fork poised in front of him. “Wow, Trixie being grateful; who’da thunk it?”

Calmly and deliberately, I cut my pancakes and put a big enough bite in my mouth to keep it occupied. For a baby dragon, he really can be a mean, cutting little thing; if his mouth hasn’t already outgrown the rest of him, I’d hate to see him in a few years. I swallow, lick my lips, and smile. “Well, thank you for noticing, Spike. Trixie has worked hard to become the kind of pony who can fit in here in Ponyville. After all, Trixie wouldn’t want to deprive this simple town of her greatness!”

“Your greatness, huh?” He takes a few gulps of juice and sighs. “Does that mean this is just another act for you?”

The nerve on this little lizard. “What!? No! Trixie truly is grateful that Twilight made her these delicious pancakes, and Trixie intends to be a friendly, humble pony, a pony that everypony wants to be around.”

“And she is.” Twilight says from the stove. “Stop giving Trixie a hard time and eat your pancakes, Spike.”

“Hey, I’m just making an observation.” He stuffs another forkful in his mouth. “I mean, she’s not exactly a philequinist.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Spike.” Her voice has a sharp, gleeful edge. “After lunch, Trixie is going to be making that medicine for Fluttershy, or at least getting the herbs and taking them to Zecora.”

I take another bite, and this time it’s much more satisfying -- well, until Spike starts whining. “What!? I thought I was going to do that!”

“Spike…” Twilight says as she turns around with another plate of pancakes, “Don’t do this again. While it’s true I feel better sending Trixie -- somepony more able to look after herself, I’m also having her go because I need your special talents. Princess Celestia wanted to gauge my knowledge of transmorphic spells, and I think a multi-page report is the best way to present it, and thus,” she says, putting a hoof on Spike’s claw, “I need my number-one assistant to help me with research and composition.”

Spike curls his arm and kisses his bicep. “Ah, yeah, who’s number one?”

“Waip” I say around a bite of pancakes. When I swallow, it prickles loudly all the way down. “Zecora... Trixie has to go see this -- Zecora? She’s the zebra: the one in the Everfree Forest, the one who helped you when I ban -- when Trixie was last here, right?”

Twilight hesitates for a beat before smiling and saying, “Yep, that’s her!”

The pep isn’t exactly reassuring, especially after that little slip up, but if Twilight wants to let it go, then I will too. “You don’t think she’ll be mad, do you? She isn’t going to like -- curse Trixie or anything, right?”

"Oh ho, is someone being a scaredy-cat?" Spike just has to pipe up.

"Spike," Twilight says witheringly. "Don't worry, Trixie. Zecora's the nicest, wisest, most levelheaded pony you could ever hope to meet, other than Princess Celestia. Besides, curses aren't real."

“Poison Joke is though.” Spike says with a chuckle.

“True.” Twilight’s horn starts glowing. “Here.” A set of scrolls and an accompanying quill fly above my head from the library and light in the middle of the table, wrapped in the purple aura of Twilight’s magic, “I made you a primer on both Zecora and the Everfree Forest, and a checklist with everything you’ll need, and a set of instructions for making the medicine to give to Zecora. And Trixie, whatever you do, stay on the path and don’t touch the blue flowers; they’re called Poison Joke and they can be pretty nasty.”

I swallow some more pancake. That’s a little much to take in so quickly. “O-okay. Trixie is -- glad she’s going to be so well prepared.”

Twilight smiles at me as best she can around a mouthful of pancake. Swallowing, she says, “I did want to make sure that you were prepared; I always find a checklist calms my nerves. And Trixie -- thank you for doing this; I’m glad you’re going to go out and meet a few ponies. It’ll make both of us happy in the end.”

I grunt a dejected agreement. I didn’t think about it before, but if I can’t be the Great and Powerful Trixie, what do I do? What do I with these other ponies? Herb-pony! Trixie needs these! What bits? Trixie needs no bits; isn’t her beauty enough? Based on the things Twilight has said, I don’t think that will work, especially not in Ponyville. “Twilight -- what about money? Trixie doesn’t have very much, or any saddlebags to carry things.”

I look at Spike, daring him to say something. Wisely, he just looks down at his pancakes and keeps chewing.

“Don’t worry; that was part of my checklist. I left my saddlebags by the door. There should be plenty of bits inside.”

I try to make my voice warm and mirthful. “Trixie supposes you thought of everything.”

“Of course! Just trying to be helpful!” She says before eating another bite of pancake.

Reluctantly, I follow her lead. Once I finish, I’m going to have to leave the library and go out with all those Ponyvillians, and my stack of pancakes is looking smaller and more pitiful every second. Four more bites, three, two, and each tastes more like flat, moldy hay.

For a second, all I can do is stare at the tiny, toppled tower of pancakes. It’s barely enough to fill the length of a fork, and certainly not enough to keep me here at the table for long. I sigh before stabbing the last bite and putting it in my mouth. It goes down and sits in my stomach like a rock covered in glue. “Well -- Trixie is finished.” I stand and levitate the scrolls and quill. “Trixie supposes she should be on her way.”

Twilight steps over to me and gives me a sticky little kiss. “Have fun, sweetie, and don’t take too long; If you get back early, I can teach you about transmorphic spells, just to make sure I know what I’m talking about. Doesn’t that sound fun!?”

I return the kiss, slipping her just a little tongue and getting one last taste of sugary syrup. “You’re so adorable when you get all enthusiastic. Trixie will be back soon.”

Twilight smiles. “I know. I’ll see you.” She turns back to Spike. “Alright, Spike, time to finish up! We have a report to write!”

After one last look at the two of them, Twilight’s sexy little rump wiggling away and the stupid dragon shovelling the last of his pancakes into his face, I turn towards the front door. Twilight’s bags sit next to it. I put the scrolls in one pouch and then peek in the other. Wow, the bottom is practically lined with bits. As I lift them onto my back, I can’t help but think it embarrassing, having to wear Twilight’s cutie mark; it makes me look branded, like she owns me. Well, they are purple, and the cutie mark is kind of like stars, so maybe I can just pretend it’s a fashion accessory -- almost like my old cloak and hat I left with Aunt Blanket. It actually fits pretty well too; I wonder if Twilight loosened the straps for me? The thought makes me smile to myself; I can’t fault her for being thoughtful, especially towards me. Well -- I guess I can’t waffle around here forever, besides, I’m the Great and Powerful Trixie: I don’t have anything to fear from these Ponyville hayseeds. “Get ready Ponyville -- Trixie is back.”

“What was that, Trixie?” Twilight says.

Did I say that out loud? “N-nothing.” I open the door and get out. “Bye, Twilight.”

As I close the door, Twilight calls out, “Bye, Trixie.”

***

As I step out into the Ponyville sunlight, I take a deep breath. I feel strangely -- alive, electrified. The Princess’s sun is warm and bright, the sky is so blue, and the clouds sitting around town are practically glowing. Even the folksy little thatch-roofed cottages pretending to be real buildings look -- just wonderful, in their own homey way. Even the other ponies, all going about their business, bring a little smile to my face. Even if they aren’t looking at me, and even if the ones that are are wearing disgusted frowns, they’re still ponies, right there for me to impress with my greatness and power, or maybe my grace and humility.

Now that I feel like my own pony again, it’s time to take this one-horse town by storm. Opening the left saddlebag, I pull out the list of ingredients. As expected from Twilight, they’re all neat and orderly, listed by shop: Leaves and Flowers: blueseed oil and web leaf; Pony Tale Remedies: ponytail wisteria, red bulb, and Remedy’s fronds; Mellow Seed’s Herb Emporium… There’s still a problem -- I have no idea where any of these places are. “Twilight?” Briefly, I look back at the door and think about going in to ask her, but somehow that feels like a failure; I’m supposed to be going around the town and talking to ponies, and -- what’s easier than that? I’m -- I’m sure somepony nearby will tell me where the shops are.

I cross the street and call out to a mare with a yellowish coat and a green mane in a shade which, if I can be honest, is one of the ugliest I think I could think of. “E-excuse me?” She looks up from her little box garden, doing her best to smile around the carrot I assume she just pulled up. The expression only lasts for the time it takes her to recognize me. “Trixie is new in town, and needs to know where a few shops are, and -- and wanted you to tell her.” If anything, her frown only deepens. I put on my most ingratiating smile and present the list. “Uhm -- please tell Trixie where these places are? I-if you do, maybe Trixie can help you with your mane -- it looks like it could use some work. After all, Trixie is trying to make friends, and she is great with styling and -- coloring...”

With every word, her eyes narrow until finally she spits the carrot at me. It hits my cannon and bounces off into the grass. “Well I never!” she says hotly, “Get off of my lawn, you little blue meanie, and don’t come back! I’m so tired of hearing about my mane! If I want to dye it green, then I will!”

“O-okay. Fine!” I cry as I back onto the street, “Trixie was trying to be nice! Your mane could have been as beautiful as Trixie’s, you know!”

I turn away from her, pick a direction, and walk a few houses down. Maybe I’ll have more luck with another pony. In front of another cottage with another planter, a mare with a white coat and a voluminous, draping red mane is watering some roses. I clear my throat. “E-excuse me? Trixie was wondering if you could give her some directions.”

As I talk, she carefully puts her watering pail down. While she doesn’t exactly frown, I’d call her expression far from welcoming. “Was that you yelling down the street?”

I can’t help my eyes widening a bit. “What? No, of course not! Trixie isn’t that kind of pony. Trixie is friendly, and nice, and -- and level-headed… Trixie would never yell at another pony.”

One of her eyebrows rises. “It sounded a lot like you; in fact, I think I heard a Trixie in there somewhere.”

My lips curve up in a pained, nervous smile. “Wow! A T-Trixie, huh? And here Trixie -- this Trixie -- thought her name was rather unique. The world is just full of surprises, even for somepony as Great and Powerful as Trixie.”

“Uh-huh.” The mare grabs the pail in her mouth and starts watering again. “Why don’ you jus’ keep walkin’.”

“But -- but…” A final look from her, which I feel entirely justified in calling final based on how mean it is, discourages any more pursuit of that. “Well, thank you,” I say as I start off, “Umm -- h-have a nice day.”

This time, I walk much further. I don’t need any more negativity towards me getting in the way of my quest. As I walk past more of those adorably pitiful cottages, which seems to be almost all this little town can offer, ponies glance over at me before going back to whatever they were doing. How many of those stabbing eyes remember the first time I brought my show here? How many remember cheering at my show, or feeling pity when my cart was destroyed? How many remember the time I returned with the Alicorn amulet? Even though most of them don’t seem phased by seeing me, how many would help me? Trixie isn’t one of them, and to some she’s even a villain. The cringe comes back. I never wanted to be a villain; I just wanted to -- humiliate -- Twilight Sparkle the way I’d been humiliated, to show that I wasn’t weak and pitiful. I just wanted to be...

An impact knocks the thought from my head and me on my tail. Throwing my legs up in front of my face, I cry “I didn’t do it! I didn’t mean to! I-” Looking up, I see a small yellow-and-pink pile of pony. It looks like Trixie is not only the Greatest and most Powerful equine who ever lived, but also the luckiest. “Fluttershy!” I light my horn and lift her off of the ground to set her back on her hooves. “Trixie is so sorry! Are you alright? Fluttershy?”

“O-oh, no,” She looks down, hiding her face behind her forelock, and brushing herself off with tiny motions. “I-I mean, yes! I mean -- I’m fine. Hi, Trixie. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you; I was just so busy thinking about Mr. Lorse -- his indigestion is just so bad. I was actually going to see Twilight about that medicine I asked her to look into; do you know how far she along she is on it?”

A grin creases my face; it’s Trixie’s time to shine! “Actually, dear Fluttershy,” I say in my most theatrical voice, “Trixie more than just knows; Twilight found your recipe, and now she’s entrusted Trixie to make it and deliver it to you! It’s fortunate Trixie found you first. Now, you can have the pleasure of accompanying Trixie as she mixes your medicine. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

She looks up at me with a little quirk in her lips. “O-of course. So, where are we going?”

I pull the list out again and clear my throat. “Leaves and Flowers. Trixie will give you the honor of letting you lead the way.”

She grins and drops a little curtsy, making sure to hide her face again. “Why thank you, mademoiselle. I-if you’ll follow me.”

I fall into step behind her as she starts off -- in the opposite direction I was walking. Well, maybe Trixie isn’t the luckiest pony in the world, but certainly in Equestria. While we pass more staring ponies, including the two mares from earlier, it doesn’t seem to matter as much; Fluttershy’s kindness complements my Greatness and Power well. It’s also kind of nice to watch her walk; she’s so graceful, and her tail is so long and flowing, and that rump -- it certainly rivals Twilight’s, and maybe even my own. Shaking my head, I let my eyes wander up to her delicate wings and her exquisitely arching neck. As we pass the library, I close my eyes for a second -- I don’t need to be thinking these things about Fluttershy; I have Twilight, and I -- I don’t want to upset her. She matters to me -- a lot.

“Umm, Trixie?” I look up from my reverie to find Fluttershy pointing a wing at a green-trimmed cottage with a leaf-and-flower theme on the eaves. Leaves and Flowers: it’s so cheesy it brings a little grin to my face. “We’re here. What do we need to buy?”

“Just a few things,” I say, looking down at the list.

She makes that little beckoning wave and smiles. “I could go in and buy them, i-if you want.”

I’d never have expected such condescension from Fluttershy; maybe that’s the other side of her supposed kindness. “Why? Don’t you think Trixie is capable of buying a few stupid plants?”

Her dismayed expression is wounding. “Y-yes! No? I mean, I’m sure you can buy as many stupid plants as you want. I -- I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”

“No -- Trixie is the one that should be sorry for snapping at you. It’s just -- nopony around here treats me like a pony -- they wouldn’t even give me directions, and if even you thought I was just a joke…”

“Of course not.” Her panic and dismay make way for a warm smile. “You’re a pony, and you should get the same respect as anypony else. I just thought -- everypony needs some help sometimes, even ponies as Great and Powerful as you, and sometimes it’s just nice to do something for someone else.”

I think this is why I like Fluttershy: she has no problem admitting my finer qualities, and she’s nice -- and not too bad to look at. “Well, why don’t you come inside with Trixie? We can buy your plants together.” Her smile brightens her firm, exact nod as she opens the door for me.

Inside, it’s a jungle. Pots covered in soil and overflowing with vines hang from the ceiling, many of them dividing the shops with dazzling curtains of flowers. Except for a few barely-visible paths, the floor is also covered in a skyline of brown and green and fluorescent color. The only light is the fiery beams that find their way from the dingy windows through the stems and trunks and foliage.

“Hello?” With all the plants, it’s like yelling into a closet. “We’d -- we’d like to buy some things! Is anyone home?”

I almost jump to the moon when a quiet, wheezy voice from the other side of a wall of trees says, “Just a minute; just hold your horses, you city-bred filly.”

Telling my heart to calm down, I turn to Fluttershy. She gives me that smile and lightly touches my hoof. “Don’t worry, Trixie; Most ponies think Mr. Greenhooves is a little strange, but he’s just the nicest pony! He loves his plants as much as I love my animals.”

A beautiful piping, almost like birdsong, starts from somewhere further inside and starts closing in on us. “So -- you know him?”

“Oh, very well. We met at the Grand Galloping Gala, and even though we didn’t hit it off then, when I met him again in Ponyville, well -- it just clicked.”

“Yep!” He cries out as he approaches us, his hooves visible among the roots and vines further along our aisle, “When you love something as dearly and as well as she and I do, well -- you just feel it -- a connection. Makes you want to whistle, don’t it?”

Mr. Greenhooves shoulders his way through a screen of palm fronds, a shriveled brown stallion with a long, grey beard and a tall, dilapidated hat. He almost looks familiar. “Hey there, Ms. Fluttershy. How’s Mr. Lorse? Still having them tummy problems?”

“Yes,” she says, looking at him with enthusiasm, something that I would almost call -- love. “I don’t think he likes the new diet, but -- but it’s for the best. How about Little Blue? Is -- is she still growing stunted?”

“Yep. I just can’t figure out why she ain’t budding; she’d be dern pretty if she’d just sprout a few flowers. Well, you just gotta keep at it. So, what can I do for you ladies? Need a few herbs?”

“Y-yes,” I intrude, reading from the list, “Blueseed oil, and -- w-web leaf.”

“Lemme see that,” he says, taking the list in his hoof, “Ah -- I seen some lists like this; I guess this is for Mr. Lorse.” He turns away. “Well, you don’t want blueseed oil from me -- go to that Mellow place. Them unicorns got a way with the alchemy app-par-rat-tye. In fact, I’d move a few things around on here, save you a few stops. Just stay away from Pony Tale -- they get all their herbs, dried, from farms up near Baltimare and Phillydelphia. They’re alright, but fresh from Ponyville’s better, and-”

His constant chattering is grating. Maybe he just needs a little direction; he does seem pretty old. “So, do you have what we need?”

“Don’t be rude, young filly.” He turns back and looks up at us from under the wide brim of his hat, first Fluttershy, then me. “Your friend always this rude? Well, you got a pen?”

As Fluttershy blushes and hangs her head, I say. “S-sure.” I levitate the quill out of the saddlebag.

As soon as it’s clear, he grabs it in his mouth. “I got this, and this, and all of these…” He says as he slashes through more than a few items and seems to draw arrows down the sides of the page.

"But -- but, Twilight's list!" He just looks up at me before going back to making his changes.

Finally presenting the quill and the list, he says, “Alright, here’s what I got, and my ideas on where you should head for the rest; that’ll be 65 bits, if you want it.”

“That’s -- that’s robbery!” He crossed off a lot, but not quite half, and I didn’t count, but there can’t be more than a hundred bits in the bag. “Trixie needs you to go lower; 50 sounds about right.”

“I mighta been more inclined towards 50, 45 even, if I were feeling a mite friendlier, but somepony had to go and interrupt me when I was trying to dispense a bit of sage advice. If you want my herbs, it’s 65.”

“But -- but -- Trixie...” Is all I can get out. I can’t just fail Twilight and Fluttershy like this.

“Don’t worry,” Fluttershy says as she pulls a purse from somewhere, “I can cover it.”

“Here.” I rush to pull out a couple of hoof-fulls of bits. “Trixie will pay for it, full price.”

“No, really, it’s okay; I can get it.” Fluttershy says as she opens her purse.

“You should loosen up, filly,” Mr. Greenhooves says as he grabs the bits floating in front of his face, “And let go of some of that pride; it’s more than you can afford. Here, you overpaid 10 bits. Let me go get your things.”

“Oh. Thank you.” I take the bits from him and put them back in the bag.

As the stallion walks away through the hanging plants, he goes back to whistling, which is actually really pretty.

As we wait, I occupy myself with something that is definitely not Fluttershy: a huge orange flower that puffs up from the others on the floor. I trace the intricate ridges running along its petals and the grapefruit lines spidering their way to where all the polleny bits are. My coat gets hotter and hotter with each second until I’m sure it’s brighter than the flower.

“Here you go,” Mr. Greenhooves says as he breaks through the understory. He holds out a set of bags which I take, after looking at them for a second.

Holding the bags to my chest, I stare at him, my cheeks radiant, and manage to stutter out, “I’m -- I’m sorry about… I just...”

He interrupts me with a wave, “Don’t worry about it; just be a mite more considerate next time.” He turns away again. His voice is muffled when he says, “Well, you two should probably head out; I’m sure you got places to be. It was a pleasure, as always, Ms. Fluttershy.”

“Y-you too!” Fluttershy calls out meekly. She looks at me, and for a second, it’s all I can do to return her gaze without shedding a few tears. She smiles and turns to the door. “Come on; it’s a little hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I manage to squeak out as I follow her. After breaking out, returning to the sunlight, I just stand there. “Maybe -- maybe it would be better if you did talk to these shop ponies for Trixie.”

Her smile seems even brighter out here. "You can do it, Trixie; you just have to think about the other pony. Try to treat them like you'd want to be treated."

"But -- then Trixie would have to act like they were as Great and Powerful as her."

"Exactly. That's not a problem, right? A pony as good as you can do that."

"O-of course; Trixie can do anything. Well, let's see where that Mr. Greenhooves thought we should go." What all remains after his great winnowing? Mellow Seed's Herb Emporium, Bulbs Plus, The Root Cellar, and a couple more. He certainly seems to have made our trip shorter; I just hope he knows what he's talking about. "Here." I hold the list up to Fluttershy. "Where do we go next?"

"Oh, one of these places is just around the corner." She sweeps a wing into a little bow and turns. "If you'll follow me."

As she starts cheerfully cantering away, I follow, and hope that the next shop is a little friendlier, or maybe little less friendly.

***

“That one was much better!” Fluttershy says as the jingle of the entry bell announces our exit.

I feel my lips creeping up. “Trixie is getting the hang of this -- being respectful to others, even when they’re smaller and weaker than her, not to mention just plain mean. It’s so hard when other ponies aren’t respectful to Trixie first -- or at all.”

“But just look at how far you’ve come in one afternoon; we didn’t get thrown out this time, and we got all of the plants we needed. Keep practicing, and soon you’ll be the Great and Empathetic Trixie.”

I start walking towards the town limits, towards the Everfree. “Trixie thinks she’d like that.” I look back at Fluttershy. “So, how far is it to Zecora’s house?”

“Don’t worry, it’s a short walk. I’ll tell you when we’re getting close.”

As we walk, I can’t help thinking about how, even after a week of being cooped up inside the library, I prefer its walls to all of these cottages. There’s no artistry to them, no beauty, nothing admirable at all. Except for Fluttershy, this little excursion has been thoroughly unpleasant, not to mention totally boring. I don’t know how these Ponyvillians live with the boredom their sleepy little town induces, especially while keeping their all-encompassing harmony intact. I guess they just don’t have the kind of troubling thoughts that plague Trixie when she’s left to herself. “Fluttershy -- what do you think of Twilight and Trixie?”

“Oh, I really like both of you. Twilight’s just the smartest, nicest pony I know, and I really admire the pride you have in yourself, and the way you can put your mind to something; sometimes I wish I could be more like you.”

The innocence in her voice is almost painful. “No -- I meant -- Twilight and Trixie as a couple, romantically. I know most of her friends don’t want me around; they think I’m not good enough for her, or that I’m lying about loving her, or -- or that I just want to hurt her. I thought -- maybe -- you seem a lot nicer than the rest of them , so...”

“Oh.” She falls behind me, her hoofbeats drowned in the noise from the surrounding street. “Well -- I -- I don’t know. I’ve enjoyed this afternoon with you, and Twilight has certainly seemed very happy over the past week.”

What she doesn’t say is wounding. “But you don’t trust me. You don’t think that I’m good for her.”

“W-well, I don’t know. It’s just that you were really -- terrifying -- when you came back with the Alicorn amulet. Sometimes, it gives me nightmares. I mean, most of the time, it’s fine, but whenever something triggers the memories -- it’s scary. The way you came into town and just -- toyed with all of us, terrorized us, like we weren’t even ponies, and -- and that was all just to get back at Twilight, so now…”

“So now you find it hard to trust Trixie. Trixie understands.” My hooves get a bit heavier. “Twilight trusts Trixie, somehow. Trixie hopes that she can start earning the trust of others ponies around town, including you; Trixie hopes she can be a pony worth trusting.”

"Me too." A bit of warmth slips into her voice. "You know, I was very lonely as a filly; foals in Cloudsdale can be vicious to pegasi that aren’t good fliers. I -- I imagine that's how you must feel, moving into Ponyville with the history you have."

"Maybe. You were just dealing with the cruelty of foals, though; Trixie is up against the prejudice of adults with long memories -- even if she did earn it." I keep my eyes between my hooves, until I feel a little caress on my shoulder.

I look up and back to see Fluttershy smiling and resting an outstretched wing on my back. “It’ll be okay; Ponyville ponies are just the friendliest, nicest, most forgiving ponies you could ever wish for.”

I only have enough hope for the weakest of smiles. “Maybe.”

As she pulls her wing back, I let my eyes drop again. It's disappointing. I guess -- I wanted Fluttershy to show me some of her vaunted kindness. I thought that she would tell me that it was alright, that Twilight and I could really be a couple in Ponyville, that one day I wouldn’t have to hide in the library, that -- that I was good for Twilight.

"W-well, here we are." Fluttershy says. Suddenly, all of the hubbub of Ponyville is gone, replaced with the dark chirruping and creaking branches and rustling leaves of the forest. The only break in the trees is a wide dirt-and-stone path, covered in black shadows and a few rays of sickly green-yellow sunlight and the eerie glow of little clusters of mushrooms and moss.

A few dead leaves crunch under my hooves as I take a few steps towards the path. "Are you sure this place is safe?"

Fluttershy looks at me with piteous eyes. "A-as long as we stay on the path, it s-should be, at least to Zecora's hut."

It looks like my shy little friends needs a morale booster. “Even so, danger doesn’t matter to the Great and Powerful Trixie!” I throw a foreleg around her neck and grace her with a grin. “After all, what’s a quest without a little danger, my dear Fluttershy!?”

For my troubles, I only get a terrified grimace. “A safe, pleasant quest?”

I lean on Fluttershy lightly and take the first steps into the forest. “Ponies don’t tell stories about safe, pleasant quests. Now come, we need to get that medicine so that I can get back; Twilight is going to be teaching me about rantomorphic spells. I’m not sure how much I really care to know about them -- or what they are, but Twilight is so adorable when she starts lecturing on magic theory.”

“O-oh -- that sounds nice.” She giggles and takes one faltering step forward. “W-well -- I guess we need to go then. T-Twilight is pretty cute when she gets enthusiastic, and I’d hate to keep you from her, and besides, Zecora is so thoughtful -- I’m sure she’ll make a nice, calming pot of jasmine tea for us.”

“That does sound good. Even Trixie needs to take a break every so often. A-after all, this place is somewhat...” Fluttershy remains silent a few steps behind me as we pass under the thunderhead trees and falls of vines that make up the gates of the Everfree. The dark air and Fluttershy’s silence weigh on my levity until it collapses. It seems even Trixie can’t keep joking nonchalantly in a place like this. “Just a little daunting.”

Fluttershy lets out a little whimper, barely audible above the wind whistling through the trees and the sound of our hooves and the chittering of nasty little things just out of sight. “Just a little.” It echoes through the twisted trunks surrounding us, growing into a tiny, mocking choir: just a little just a little a little a little a little…

Fluttershy looks around with wide eyes and trembling wings as it dies down. Now it seems like the murmur of the forest has an even more bitter, malicious tone. “D-don’t worry, Fluttershy,” I say as we pass through a hole in a hill, under the shade of a gnarled tree, through screens of trailing roots. “Trixie is right here.” I reach a hoof over to her. Her shoulder is quaking. After a few moments, we come out of the darkness onto a narrow dirt path border on both sides by shallow pools covered in a festering green skin. “A-and nothing scares the Great and Powerful-”

KRRR-AAWWK!

Through the roiling foliage above us, a huge bird is working its way up, through the trees, into the murky cyan sky. It -- it has to be as big as a pony, with gangly legs like mangrove trees, noisy wings covered in thick, grey-and-black feathers, a vicious, hooked beak, and a long, thin tail that looks razor sharp. “N-nothing -- scares -- Trixie!” I finally manage to shout up at the bird. It lets out one last, desultory call as it looks back. When I look over to try to calm Fluttershy, I find her staring up with awed eyes and the beginnings of an open-mouth grin. “W-what? Fluttershy -- that wasn’t a friend of yours, was it?”

“Oh, no. That -- that was a rare Swordtail Heron; there haven’t been any recorded sightings for almost 800 years.” She takes my hooves, practically bouncing with joy. “Oh, we’re very lucky ponies! I -- I could die happy -- n-not that I want to.”

“And fortunately, you won’t have to,” a deep, melodious, female voice calls out, “Coming with me will do.”

“Zecora?” Fluttershy mutters as she casts a quick glance over her shoulder before watching going back to birdwatching.

The zebra is standing on a hill at the top of the path, flanked by two fields of big blue flowers. It’s still a little strange, seeing her; she’s so much like a pony, but greyed out and striped and with such piercing blue eyes. “H-hello, Zecora. It’s -- nice to see you again?”

Zecora smiles down at us widely. Immediately, I'm jealous; I don't think even Trixie could manage an expression that disarmingly wry. "Likewise, Trixie, uncertainty and all. What compels you to make this unusual call?"

She does have a certain charm, though it’s moreso unassailable than attractive. "W-well, Fluttershy needs this medicine. It's not for her; it's for one of her pets, and Twilight asked me to ask you to make it, and I found Fluttershy earlier, and-"

Zecora holds a hoof up. "I think I see. Why don’t you walk with me? Not even a pony of might and size should dally here; it isn’t wise.”

“V-very well. Come on, Fluttershy, let’s head to Zecora’s hut.” When I turn, Fluttershy is still staring through the trees at the horizon. She doesn’t react, so I touch a hoof to her shoulder.

“Hmm?” She looks at me with faraway eyes. “O-oh, what? I was just watching the heron; I think he may have landed somewhere near by.” She turns back. “Maybe we should-”

“What? Go out into the forest to look for this bird?” I ask, unable to keep a hint of irritation from creeping into my voice. Well, it shouldn’t be hard to get her moving, especially if I pull out a few imaginary or, I shudder to think of the Ursa, not-so-imaginary monsters. Keeping my hoof firmly on her shoulder, I hoarsely whisper, “Go out with all the wild, slavering beasts, pony-eating plants, and unquiet spirits? Do you really want to do that, Fluttershy?”

“N-no,” she peeps out, "I guess not." With one last, long look, she turns and starts walking towards Zecora.

Like taking candy from a foal. Feeling my lips slowly widening in a smug smile, I follow. “Good. You came out here with Trixie, and you aren’t going to get gobbled up on her watch.” She briefly looks back and gifts me a quiet, amused smile we crest the hill.

Zecora falls into step just ahead of us. “Do not worry; there are no spirits. If-”

There are no spirits. “Oh, yeah? This was the site of Nightmare Moon’s betrayal and banishment, right? You don’t think a few ponies got hurt -- maybe even killed?”

She lays a withering gaze on me and clears her throat. “If there were, I would hear it. Magic is a part of me, as much as it is you. It’s different, to be sure, but I more than make do.”

I roll my eyes behind her back. Everypony around here just loves to hear themselves talk. “Very well. Trixie can respect that. After all, you did help Twilight defeat Trixie.”

Zecora hums as she looks at the path in front of her hooves. “I think you’ve got it wrong; defeat is too strong a word. Twilight only wanted to help, not produce victory for herself.”

“Of course she did,” I can’t help but sneer, “The great Twilight Sparkle, always helping everypony with her amazing magic.”
.
“And her amazing brain,” Zecora says in a spry tone, “The way things are, I didn’t expect to hear such pain in your voice. Are you regretting your choice to stay in Ponyville? Perhaps you hold some envy still.”

“No, I just -- I… How far is it to your home?”

Zecora looks back again, her unwanted eyes searching my face for a long second, until she trips on a root and stumbles. That brings a smile to my face. It’s nice to see that Twilight and her friends are fallible, even if it’s only in small ways. “I-it isn’t far, don’t worry,” she says, regaining her balance, “There’s no hurry. Plenty of time for chit and chat, unless you’d prefer to skip that.”

Fluttershy looks like she’s pointedly avoiding our conversation, but not for long. “Well -- it might be a good idea if Fluttershy told you about the medicine she needs; go ahead, Fluttershy.”

“O-oh, okay.” she stutters, still looking away. “Well, Mr. Lorse ate some Red Felt Holly berries. Normally it wouldn’t be that bad, but-”

“But,” Zecora jumps in, “He’s gone on a diet without any meat, so those berries of red aren’t quite as sweet.”

“Y-yes.” Fluttershy squeaks.

“M-meat!?” I ask, immediately feeling a little nauseous, “What? What is this friend of yours, some kind of monster!?”

“What!? No!” Fluttershy sounds upset. “Mr. Lorse is a bear, and, well, I’m sure you know, bears normally eat -- meat -- along with nuts and berries, but Mr. Lorse is trying to give up meat because I -- I just can't stand the idea of him eating poor little fishies and squirrels and bees and ants and -- but now he’s having stomach problems, and -- and if I can’t help him, then -- then I guess he’ll just have to start eating meat again.”

There are things about this meek little pony I never would have suspected. “A bear? L-like the Ursa? You have a pet bear?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Lorse isn’t at all like that ursa minor. He’s as gentle as a kitten -- in fact, gentler than a few that live with me.” She shudders.

I still don’t like this bear thing, but if Fluttershy can handle it, then it shouldn’t be a problem for me. “Trixie wasn’t worried -- just concerned; we don’t need any more crazed bears rampaging around Ponyville.”

Fluttershy actually giggles. “The only thing rampaging is his stomach; if we can fix that, then I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“And I can assure you it certainly will,” Zecora says in that comforting voice, “Zecora can combat almost any ill. Well, here we are, my pony friends. Now to your medicine let us tend.” Just off the path, she walks to a twisted tree covered in leering masks. murky bottles, and other gewgaws. The only indication it’s even inhabited is the small door, the steps leading up to it, and what just might be windows. While it looks like it may actually be large enough to make a house out of, it’s certainly not as majestic as the library. In fact, the only notable thing about it, other than the unsettling decorations, is just how gnarled it is. I guess it fits someone as strange and mysterious as Zecora.

Zecora opens the door and motions us in. My first look is exasperating; twisted wood, more pulpy vines, more masks, more bottles; doesn’t she know how to decorate with anything else? As I walk inside and down to the sunken floor, she points a hoof at my saddlebags, “Now, from the way your bags bulge, I imagine you have some herbs to divulge. Just put them on that table; find a clear spot if you’re able, and then take a seat wherever you like. Don’t be afraid; I don’t bite.”

“Don’t worry, Trixie isn’t afraid,” I open the saddlebags and float the herbs and recipe onto the table, then drop the saddlebags under the table. “And here is the recipe Twilight gave Trixie. Trixie guesses you might find it useful.”

Zecora smiles as she closes the door and turns around. “While I’m sure that I could make do with what I have here, I’d like to thank you and Twilight for being so dear. You’ve saved me some stock, and a walk. Now, stand clear while I make this up, and then I can break out the tea cups.”

I join Fluttershy near the edge of the huge room, in front of a cubby housing a bed with an adorable leopard print blanket, away from the tables lining the other walls and the huge black cauldron in the center. As Zecora busies herself grinding herbs and boiling water, I turn to Fluttershy. "Trixie guesses you were right; we didn't even have to fight -- err..."

Fluttershy looks at me with a giggle before briefly touching my shoulder and saying, "Of course not, I told you that Zecora would take care of us."

"Of course, my little pony friends," Zecora responds without hesitation, "Before helping others there are no nobler ends. After all -- drat, I dropped a leaf!" She bends down as Fluttershy and I watch. "Oh well, it is no grief. Hmm, what's this, then? Something shimmery on and in?"

First Zecora brings up a couple of leaves in her mouth and sets them on the table, then does the same with Twilight's saddlebags. "Isn’t this interesting? Spells there are on both bag and sling. They’re woven in, a part of the cloth. Not even Zecora herself could get them off."

After a moment of watching Zecora stare at the bags, wondering if she can somehow see magic and if she’s telling the truth, I decide to humor her. "Well, I mean, that's hardly surprising; this is Twilight we're talking about."

She hesitates for a second. “But the enchantments I’ve surmised have me quite surprised: one by the withers to find it, if it dithers; one on each side to hear, reminiscent of an ear; one by each flank to -- hold on; now it’s blank!”

“Blank!?” I demand, needing just a second to get over my exasperation about this whole rhyming thing. I take a few steps toward her. “What do you mean, like gone?”

“Yes, exactly: gone. I don’t know what’s going on.” She set the bags back on the floor and puts her hooves to her mortar and pestle again. “Perhaps a spell in case of discovery, to keep its purpose hidden from someone like me, or someone on the other side who wanted to help these secrets hide.”

I’m almost afraid to push further. “You don’t think Twilight…”

Slowly, Zecora stops grinding the herbs and looks up, her lips a thin, tight line. “Ah, Trixie, I don’t know what it could be.” She looks back down to the herbs and, after a cursory inspection, throws them into the cauldron. “If Twilight placed these, only a few ideas come with ease. It could be in case of loss, to make it easy to come across, or from mistrust it could stem, or to keep you safe, not condemn.”

“Trixie is sure it’s that first one!” I say with more cheer than I feel. After a few more steps, I’m behind Zecora, staring down at those lavender bags like they could tell me something more. “A-after all Twilight trusts Trixie! She says Trixie is a good pony, a pony everyone wants to be around, and Trixie is a strong pony who doesn’t need protecting, so it can’t be that last one!”.

“Just so, my showy, blue friend,” she says before dropping her voice and shying away from me a bit, “Though your manners could still use a mend,” she continues, her voice rising again, “But I recall a thing Twilight said in training with me: ‘I can’t stop thinking about Trixie!’ From a pony like her, I would expect none other, but not so strong -- almost like a lover!” Before continuing, she pulls out a teapot, pours water into it from a small jug, and sets it on a ring beside the cauldron fire. “A few times I woke her from deep in her sleep; she was screaming your name, sweating, and she couldn’t concentrate for all her fretting. It seemed clear: it was fear, the depth of the incident, but perhaps it was something else in her giving vent.”

Giving vent? While I’m all for Twilight giving vent to things, some of the images conjured by that phrase make me blush. “What do you mean, something else?”

As she drops a few leaves in the teapot and puts the lid on, she says nothing. The unnerving silence continues as she stares at the small, dented, metal teapot. Just as I start to wonder if she’s waiting for it to boil, she speaks. “Who knows? Something that goes beyond friendship’s dictates, something to do with the way Twilight sometimes fixates.”

“Do you mean like an obsession or something?”

“More or less,” she says. Just as she opens her mouth to finish the rhyme, the pot starts whistling. “Ah, well, let’s talk of things that don’t distress. Worry and woe is not for tea, so come, my friends, sit with me.” She grabs the pot handle, pours the golden tea into a trio of cups waiting on a table behind her, sets the pot down, and sits on the far side. “Fluttershy, tell me of your adventures today, for far from your normal path you stray, and Trixie, a few weeks past Twilight asked me about romantic technique; of what she’s applied, do you have a critique?”

Behind me, Fluttershy giggles before putting a foreleg around my neck. “Ooh, I think I’ll let Trixie go first. Just have a seat here and tell us all about it -- i-if you don't mind, that is.”

As Fluttershy gently tugs me forward, I can’t gather my thoughts. Twilight has some mysterious spy spells on the bags she gave me, Fluttershy is friends with some meat-eating bear monster, Zecora’s a creepy witch, and now they want to girl talk about Twilight’s romantic technique? I must have wandered into some kind of asylum, because all the ponies in this town are crazy!

***

After an hour or two of hot chamomile tea, some lemon cookies, and invigoratingly pointless and pointedly sane chat, we set out into the slanting evening shadows of the Everfree Forest, Twilight’s saddlebags heavy on my back. With the clop of Zecora’s hooves and her jovial banter, the forest’s whispers and chitterings don’t seem nearly as bad, even in the approaching dark. “You know, Trixie, with a little direction, your antics are quite deserving of affection!”

It seems I’ve finally won this witch over. Surprisingly, the thought lights a warm little feeling under my coat; I guess I wouldn’t mind having Zecora as a friend. “Trixie’s antics are always fascinating and entertaining! After all, how many ponies could occupy the attention of a mind like Twilight Sparkle, alone, unaided, and with only makeshift props, for an entire week?”

Fluttershy lets out a nervous titter. “Th-that’s true.” Her voice drops as she falls behind. “I-I never thought of using carrots that way -- or cantaloupes. I don’t know if I’ll be able to think of them as just food after this.”

She’s just so adorable. If I was anypony but the Great and Powerful Trixie, I would question how I was lucky enough to get Twilight with all these fine, single mares around. “Well, it only makes sense to use food as a gag, and cantaloupe is firm, yet pliable, and it can be carved into so many delicious shapes.”

As the silence stretches, I look around. Fluttershy avoids my eyes by looking down at the path, her cheeks turning pink, and Zecora meets my gaze with a bland smile. It’s sad; I expected a laugh, or a snicker, or at least a little giggle. Maybe it was too sophomoric? “Nothing for Trixie’s shining wit?”

“I’m sorry!” Fluttershy says, trotting back up to us, “I was just imagining -- cantaloupes, and -- and delicious shapes.”

“My regret I will not hide, but I normally laugh inside,” Zecora chimes in, “Maybe it wasn’t quite wit, but still I enjoyed it.”

As the fuzzy green hills and velvet purple-and-orange sky of Ponyville comes into view just outside the treeline, Zecora stops and speaks up again. “Well, my friends, I leave you here, but any time you’d like to talk, I’ll lend an ear.” As I turn to exchange farewells, she continues. “I’ve had fun. I count this as a day well done.”

“Oh, me too.” Fluttershy says as she gently puts a foreleg around Zecora’s neck and gives her a friendly hug. “Thank you so much for making Mr. Lorse’s medicine! This morning I was feeling so anxious I could barely leave my house, but with the medicine made and the nice teatime you put on for us, I’m feeling ever so much better.”

I rush to fill the small gap Fluttershy left in the conversation. “I -- I enjoyed it too, the tea, and the talking, and -- everything. Thanks.”

As Fluttershy steps back, Zecora waves our comments down. “As always, helping is my aim. I know that both of you would do me the same. I hope you both enjoys your nights. Perhaps you will after you turn out the lights?” With her knowing smile and a twinkle in her eyes, she turns and starts walking into the rapidly darkening forest.

“After the lights go out…” Fluttershy mutters, her cheeks still solidly pink.

Oh, Fluttershy. When I lay a foreleg across her back, she jumps and snaps her head around to me. “Woah, settle down! It’s okay!” I begin, “Well, that really was fun, but it took a lot longer than I’d planned. We should hurry. I -- I need to get back to Twilight.”

“Oh, okay. Of course. A-actually, would you mind walking me home? You have the medicine, and -- and I don’t like walking alone at night. I try to be inside by nightfall because -- who knows what might come out of the forest? M-manticores or cockatrices are okay, but there are more dangerous things in there -- I know it.”

Afraid to walk home in the dark, but not of manticores or cockatrices; I can’t believe this pony. Maybe there’s a reason Twilight was still single after all. “Fine, but we need to hurry. I’m sure it’s too late for me to get that magic lesson from Twilight, but maybe I can get something else.” I tug on Fluttershy and start walking. “Come on, let’s go.”

As she trots to catch up, she stumbles and lands against my side, pressing the jar of medicine in the saddlebags against my side. Wobbling, she catches on one of the straps and almost brings me down with her when she falls. I barely manage to use my magic to stop her from landing on her face. “You need to be more careful, Fluttershy! Trixie won’t be there to catch you every time you fall, and you almost tore Twilight’s -- saddlebags.”

The saddlebags. That’s something I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about. If I could, I would just forget everything I’d ever learned about Twilight’s saddlebags; that’s just not something Trixie needs to know. As Fluttershy rushes up, but before she gets too close, I ask, “Hey, Fluttershy -- what do you think about what Zecora said, about the spells? Would Twilight give Trixie these bags and -- spy on Trixie?”

Fluttershy’s steps slow until she matches my pace, staying behind my left flank. “I… Well, I -- I’m sure she trusts you. If anything, I’m sure she just wanted to watch out for you, just like I do with my animal friends.”

“Your animal friends, huh?” At that, my legs get lighter, buoyed by anger. “Well, Trixie isn’t some helpless little bunny.” With each step, I get to slam my hooves against the road. It’s no substitute for giving Twilight a piece of my mind, but it’s better than nothing. “Trixie almost thinks it would be better if Twilight didn’t trust her. At least that would show that she respects Trixie.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” She rushes to my side and puts her face to mine, her eyes wide and shining, even in the half-light. Her concern is unbearable. Looking away, even the shadowed trees of the Everfree are more comforting. “I know Twilight respects you, just like she does me, or anypony else! When I came to ask her about Mr. Lorse’s medicine, she couldn’t stop talking about how -- just how impressed she was with your show magic and storytelling.” She giggles. “I could barely get a word in. I just wanted to say: nopony can handle everything, not even Twilight, so if she wants to help, you should probably let her.”

“And just let Twilight sneak a bell onto Trixie to keep track of her, like a little foal? Give up on being my own pony, on being Great and Powerful?”

“That wasn’t really right of her, but, well, m-maybe -- just think back: were you happier the way you were before you came to Ponyville, or -- or maybe when you came back with the amulet? I know that I wouldn’t be without my friends to look after me.”

I groan hesitantly and look down at the road. I don’t like these questions. Was loneliness better than than being kept like a pet? Would I rather be feared and hated than condescended to? Even put that way, which I’m sure few ponies would agree with, I can’t think of a pony that would say yes, especially none that I would want to be friends with. “I don’t know. I don’t think I would like either of those Trixies now, but -- but I’m the Great and Powerful Trixie! I can’t be a weak and helpless little pony! I can’t be; I can’t be.” It can’t be. The meaning of those spells, whatever it might be, squeezes my throat, wraps my face in a tense, burning embrace, threatens to crush my eyeballs out of my head. Twilight trusts me; Twilight respects me; Twilight was spying on me. If that last statement is true, then at least one of the others just has to be false. She doesn’t think enough of me to tell me she’s tracking me, or to trust me alone with even a simple task. What, does she think I was going to try to take the amulet back from Zecora? Hurt somepony out of spite? Cause another disaster, like the ursa minor? Or does she just think I’m so frail and fragile that I can’t even walk around town by myself?

Something gently encloses me, soft and firm, slowly binding my forelegs to my chest and pressing between my ears. “I’m sure she doesn’t think any of that.” Fluttershy whispers gently, her breath hot on my ear, her chest sturdy and round against my side. I -- I wasn’t thinking out loud, was I? Just another stupidity to crown this whole stupid thing. Opening my eyes and looking up at her, the tears spilling down my cheeks and the wire-tight pain in my face and throat finally take over, grief and betrayal becoming physical. “I’m sorry; I didn’t think this was bothering you so much. You -- you really shouldn’t let it. Twilight worries all the time. You should have seen her the time when her future self travelled back in time to warn her about something; she had us scouring Equestria for disasters for a whole week!”

“But -- but -- but -- she doesn’t need to worry about Trixie!” I say, my voice cracking, betraying me, my stupid nose dripping. “And she doesn’t put tracking spells, and -- and spying spells on you or her other friends, does she!?”

Fluttershy’s embrace tightens. Snorting and trying to get my nose back under control, I get a hint of her: animal musk and grains and sweet fruit. “I -- I think she only did it because you’re so special. Pinkie and Rainbow and the rest of us are her best friends, but -- but you’re her special somepony, you have a special place in her heart.” For an instant, I could swear I heard some bitterness there. “I can’t imagine you’re out of her thoughts for long. So if she didn’t know where or how you were for, well, even an afternoon, I think she’d want to know if you were alright.” For a second, she hums, her chest fluttering as she searches for the words. “Strange things happen around us: Changeling swarms, dragons, Nightmare Moon, Discord. I -- I’d just be worried all the time if I had somepony special in my life.”

I turn and put my hooves to her chest, press my nose into her fur. For a second, waiting for the stream of words to continue, I feel bad for getting snot all over her coat, but then that bready, sweet-sour smell eddies over me, doing its best to push the ache out of my face. After almost a minute, she hasn’t said anything. I guess she’s done talking. Finally getting some control back with one last sniffle, I look up. “W-well, I guess we should get going. I’d like to get back to Twilight; we have some things to talk about.” Still pressed against Fluttershy, I twist around to squeeze her neck and nuzzle her cheek. “Thank you for talking to me. I think there may be something to what you were saying. You’re a good friend.”

“Th-thank you.” Fluttershy slowly lets me go and awkwardly steps back. “Any time. So -- are you okay?”

Standing, I look back at her with the best smile I can muster. “I will be. Trixie always is. Now, let’s go; it’s almost full dark, and Trixie said she would see you home safe.” The sight of her smiling shyly back at me gives me the confidence to turn around and start walking.

As I start up the hill, the first stars start peeking out. Everything will be okay. Even with the disappearing spy spells, I can talk to her; there is an explanation. Soon, we’ll have this all talked out, and I’ll have something extra to punish her for tonight.

A flash of purple silhouettes the hill for an ethereal instant. It -- it can’t be; there’s no way Twilight would just…

The clop of hooves starts on the other side of the hill, steadily getting louder at a cheerful pace. From behind me, Fluttershy whispers, “Is -- is that Twilight?” I look back, shrug, and turn back to the top of the hill.

For almost ten seconds, I listen to those hooves, my heart beating in my throat. Finally, a tall, rounded shape rises from the deeper darkness of the hilltop into the starry sky. Just barely, I can make out Twilight’s bright purple coat. “Trixie?” She calls down, a white spark jumping from the end of her horn to hover above her, dulling the sky and painting her and the road grey. A huge grin splits her face as she waves. “Hi, Trixie!”

“H-hi, Twilight.” I squint up at her, holding a hoof up to blot out the light. “We were just heading back from a nice teatime at Zecora’s house. What are you doing out here?”

She trots down to us, puts her lips to mine for a lingering second, and then steps back to look at us both. “It was just getting late, and I got worried, so I decided to come and see how you were doing. Hi, Fluttershy. I guess you girls met up on the road?”

“Yeah.” I say, unsure what to say, unsure how I should act around Twilight, especially here and now.

“We actually met up in Ponyville. I showed Trixie around town while we bought the herbs for Mr. Lorse’s medicine,” Fluttershy says.

“Oh, really?” Twilight eyes me with a mischievous grin. “Did you girls make some secret plans? I don’t guess Trixie’s talked to you about coming over for some -- special entertainment?”

“Twilight!” I say, hoping the grey light will hide the red in my cheeks.

“No,” Fluttershy says, turning an innocent smile on me, “Were you thinking of putting on a special show, Trixie? It must be hard being off the stage for so long. It’d be like taking my animals away from me where I couldn’t take care of them, or snuggle them, or -- or -- I -- I should stop thinking about it.”

“A show?” I ask, cringing at the horrors that brings to mind.

“A show!? Fluttershy, you’re a genius!” Twilight says, “That would be the perfect way to reintroduce you to Ponyville, Trixie!”

Now introducing The Weak and Inept Trixie! Come one, come all, and laugh at her; here, take a rotten tomato. “Actually, Trixie doesn’t think that’s such a perfect idea. Trixie did enough of that today -- and it didn’t go very well.”

“Oh, don’t say that.” Fluttershy puts a forehoof on my shoulder. “You were doing very well -- towards the end at least. With a little more practice you’ll be just as well loved in Ponyville as Twilight, and it would feel much more natural on a stage, wouldn’t it?”

Meek and respectful and Fluttershy-like would probably be the furthest thing from natural on the stage. The image of Fluttershy in my trademark hat and cloak standing onstage shaking and whimpering makes me bark out a hysterical laugh. “That’s good; maybe you should go into comedy, Fluttershy.”

“What? I -- I wasn’t…” Fluttershy pulls her hoof back and takes a step away.

Now it’s my turn to offer a hoof. “Trixie knows. It was just -- a funny idea popped into Trixie’s head. Trixie didn’t mean to upset you.”

She simpers. “That’s okay. So, you don’t want to do a show? It seems like such a good idea. I, for one, would love to see it, since I didn’t get to the first time you came into town -- although I heard that show wasn’t much fun for everypony, especially Rarity.”

With a quick look at Twilight, I say, “Trixie is still sorry about that. Well, Trixie has been working on a few routines for Twilight, and she got Spike to watch a few, and he seemed to enjoy it, so…”

“Are you kidding?” Twilight says, putting a foreleg around me, “Whenever you weren’t looking, he was clapping! And when you finally told me that story about the giant and the diamond, I saw him watching from the other room, biting his claws at your daring escape!”

“R-really?” Maybe that little dragon is just hiding his soft, squishy heart behind a tough-guy facade.

“Really. Listen, just give it a try, sweetie. We can have Pinkie Pie set it up, only invite a few ponies; it'll be perfect."

“Well Trixie supposes it’s worth a try, and it would be good to be onstage again. So I guess…”

“You’ll do it!?” Twilight practically jumps as she puts her forelegs around me. “Yes, yes, yes! I just know this is going to be great!”

“W-well,” Fluttershy starts, her gaze rocking between us and the black of the sky, “I’m glad you’re going to be performing. I think it’s just wonderful, but -- do you think we could start walking now? I-it’s getting awfully late, and -- dark.”

I give Twilight a little kiss. “Trixie did say she would see Fluttershy home safely.”

“Well, let’s go then!” Twilight says in her usual chipper tone, “Then we can get back to the library for those magic lessons.”

Those magic lessons. I start walking, slowly, waiting for the others follow. Even with the sudden development of this show idea, I can’t just go along with this like nothing ever happened; it’s time for Trixie to stand up for herself. “Twilight... Isn’t it a little late for that? Besides -- you have some things to explain to Trixie, and then Trixie wants to get some sleep tonight.”

Twilight canters up beside me, trying to look me in the face. “But -- didn’t you want to learn about transmorphic spells? And -- and what do you mean, I have some things to explain?”

“Just -- things.” I look over at her “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Okay, Trixie,” Twilight says, almost as meek as Fluttershy. “Oh!” she continues after a moment, “The bond-uh -- those things we ordered came in. I -- I just thought you might like to know.”

“Is that so?” A grin creeps onto my face. “Maybe Trixie can stay up a bit later, after all.”

“Okay, Trixie. Whatever you say.” This time, I can hear the grin in her voice, dark and feisty instead of meek.

As I crest the hill, Fluttershy’s cottage comes into view in the distance, windows throwing a cheery, hopeful glow over the river and the surrounding trees and fields. It makes me feel good, like maybe it won’t be too hard to talk to Twilight; a bit of well-aimed affection is a powerful thing, especially with somepony already so willing. We finish our walk without any more talking, serious or otherwise, accompanied only the crickets and the brisk rhythm of our hooves. When we finally reach the little bridge leading to her house, Fluttershy rushes past Twilight and I, and turns around, her wings tight at her sides. “Thank you so much for walking me home, Trixie, and I’m glad I got to see you, Twilight. I’m -- I’m going to get inside now. It’s so dark out here. Good night, girls.”

“Good night, Fluttershy,” Twilight says, “We’ll be sure to let you know as soon as we’ve determined all the details for the show.”

“Good night, Fluttershy. Trixie enjoyed this afternoon with you.”

With a little wave, Fluttershy turns and canters up to the door nervously. I smile at Twilight and motion for her to follow me. As we start back on the dark road towards Ponyville, I put my cheek to hers. “I’m not trying to scare you, Twilight. I love you. It’s just -- Zecora said some things that concern me.”

“Like what?” she asks, nuzzling me back.

“I’ll tell you,” I whisper, putting my lips to her ear, caressing her horn with my own, “once I’ve got you safely tied up at home.”

Twilight freezes for a second, then hurries back to me and carefully puts her lips behind my ear, leaving a trail of wet kisses down my mane. “Mmm. That sounds good,” she moans, “From what you said, I imagine I’ve been a bad filly.”

“You have been,” I whisper as we walk, half leaning on each other, “But don’t worry, we can fix that; we can fix that.”

***

“So you’re sure this sound proofing spell will keep us from waking up Spike?” I ask as I finish putting the magical structures Twilight told me about in place around the flickering little storage room on the first floor of the library. “Trixie has never heard of a spell like this.”

“I’m not surprised; it’s a very specialized spell, but it should work, if the things I read are true and accurate. The theory seems to hold up, as well.” Twilight hesitates for a second, then forges boldly ahead, mischief in her voice. “Actually, I’m surprised at how easy it is for you; it’s quite an advanced spell.”

“Trixie is more than strong enough, my little Twilight Sparkle,” I say as I lightly slap her rump. ”Well, at least it works. Trixie wouldn’t want Spike to worry.” I pull the strap on Twilight’s collar. “Is that too tight?”

She wiggles her head slowly, testing its limits, trying to find me through her blinders. Of course, it’s pointless; she’s only going to see me when I want her to. “No. It’s so -- firm; it’s perfect. Thank you, Trixie. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. My -- my heart is pounding, I have no idea what’s coming next, and I love it.”

“Trixie is sure that your omission was an honest mistake.” I lift her tail with my magic, pulling just a little harder than necessary, tighten a loop around it midway, and latch the other end of the cord to her collar. “Mistress Trixie just hopes your little heart can handle it. She won’t go easy on you again.”

I walk around her, admiring my work: her back legs are spread wide by a bar attached to tough fiber cuffs around her ankles, giving me a view of her adorable little donut and the shining eggplant lips surrounding her pink little hole; her forelegs rest on the floor, bound together around the knees, leaving her rump in the air; the collar, bridle, and blinders enfolding her face and the magic suppressor on her horn make up a wonderful bit of restraint, restriction; and finally, the purple saddlebags resting on either side of her barrel, still filled with scrolls and quills and bits, add the last bit of motivation I need. I just love the way her flanks quiver against them, tensing and relaxing as she wiggles, trying to find a comfortable position. Deeply satisfied, I walk in front of her, putting a hoof to my lips and humming. “Trixie is having trouble deciding whether or not she should put a bit in your mouth.”

Twilight’s eyes track me from her hobbled position as words stumble from her lips. “W-well -- if you do that, then I can’t tell you about the bad things I’ve done -- Mistress.”

“Noone asked you!” I snap down at her, making her flinch. It may be petty, but the cruelty, the power, the way she looks at me relieves a little of the anxiety from the day. “But you do make a good point, as Trixie would expect of her little logician. We’ll leave the bit out -- for the moment. Now, let’s get started.”

As I walk behind her, I levitate our new riding crop, strap-on harness, and my new dildo, blue, longer than Twilight’s, and capped with a wicked flare, off of a stack of small crates, making sure she gets a good look at it all. Taking up position behind her, I kneel down and put the thickness of the cock’s ring between her small teats and start sawing it, pressing the flare into her belly. “Now, the fun begins. Tell Trixie about your saddlebags; when you get closer to the truth, Mistress Trixie will reward you with some -- lavish attention; when you say something Mistress Trixie doesn’t like, she will punish you very painfully. Is everything clear, my little pet?”

“Y-yes, mistress,” she says, her marehood already winking hungrily.

“Good. Then this will only be as painful as you want it to be -- unless Trixie wants it to be more painful. Now, begin.”

“W-well, they’re purple -- they have my cutie mark on them -- Rarity made them especially for me-”

I cut her off with a loud smack against her flank. She cries out, shuffling her hooves against the bar. When she doesn’t speak for a few seconds, I lash her again in the same spot with equally satisfying results. “Trixie never said to stop talking.”

“Oh. I -- I don’t wear them much, but when I do, I always feel -- fuzzy inside. They remind of me of Rarity’s generAH-” She stifles her cry more quickly this time and continues talking. “Generosity. Of how much she cares for me. I -- I also like the way they rub on my sides. They’re so soft, and the scrolls inside-”

I hit her again, twice, reddening a spot just behind her left cutie mark. Her cries sound wet, and instead of talking, she just heaves a few breaths. I put my forelegs around her rump and gently kiss the spot. “That’s enough about the bags, Twilight. Talk about something else: spells.”

“Spells?” she wheezes. “Where do I start? It’s -- it’s amazing, the way we can taxonomically divide magical structures and effects. The regularity of the laws of magic is truly something to behold. If magic worked the way most ponies thought it did, haphazardly and full of superSTITION-”

This time, her cry is much more pleasant. She continues to quiver as I shove my muzzle between her lips and press my tongue into her inner flesh. Lilacs and cinnamon and bitter skin, suppleness under my tongue, a surprised, relieved moaning. I continue just long enough for her body to start reacting, then pull back. “Trixie likes it when her little Twilight geeks out.”

“That’s,” she starts, still winking at me, “that’s good. Uhm -- spells. Spells are -- good -- very good. I -- I mean, the-theoretically, with enough magical power, you could achieve almost any effect. That’s why a being like discord can change the world at his whim, o-or a parasprite can eat and eat without stopping; they’re almost entirely made of magic, although what they can do is restricted to their natures. Only a pony can-”

I have to give it to her; this time, she doesn’t make a sound as my tongue finds its way inside her. As I rub the spot I hit earlier, a thin sound starts in her throat, and I’m not sure if its more pleasure or pain. Pulling my muzzle back, I press the sore spot on her flank, causing her to squirm trying to get away. “Talk about finding things with spells.”

“F-finding things?” she says in a small voice.

“Did Trixie stutter!?” I wait a beat, then bring the riding crop down on the spot. I can just imagine her teeth gritting as she puts her muzzle to the floor.

“Finding an object -- remotely -- is hard,” she murmurs into the floor, “You need --- intimate familiarity, because it relies on the individual characteristics of-”

I decide to show mercy and switch flanks. The loud, anguished cry makes me wonder how much she appreciates it. “Talk about something more specific: tracking spells.”

“Tracking…” I watch the billowing of her sides as she tries to start again. “Tracking spells require -- more energy, but much less finesse. It’s like -- shouting to somepony -- if you shout loud enough, you can hear it from anywhere.”

I rub her rump with a hoof. “Trixie misses the eloquence you had in talking about spells in general.”

“I -- I’m sorry, Mistress.” She presses her rear against me, the base of her tale undulating. “I -- I’ll try harder.”

“Mistress Trixie forgives you.” I kiss the little wiggling triangle of her dock, wrapping my lips around it and squeezing. “Now, put together everything we’ve talked about.”

“W-what?” She tries to twist her whole body around. The contortion looks painful.

“Saddlebags. Spells. Tracking.” I punctuate each word with a light smack, switching flanks. “Put it together, Twilight.”

“W-wait! Do you mean the spells I -- the spells on my saddlebags!? I -- I’d forgotten all about them, I swear! Is that what you’re upset about? I -- I didn’t put those on there because of you, Trixie; I just-GAH!” That scream as I lash her for the confirmation is great, but the denial -- the denial is sweet enough on its own.

I have to fight down the hopeful fluttering in my throat and the pain around my eyes before shouting, “Then why did you put them there, Twilight!?”

“I just -- I, uh...” She hisses for a second before continuing. “I -- I found a book on e-espionage enchantments a few months ago, a-and I tried a few of them -- or pretty much all of them.”

Trying to catch my breath, I nuzzle her rear, press the toy into the soft, elastic skin between her teats, and roughly coo, “Then why did they disappear as Zecora was looking at them, Twilight?”

“That -- that was just one of the spells. It -- it seemed like one of the neater spells, since it had a kind of awareness of surrounding ponies. It was supposed to keep the other spells from being found, a-and I guess it worked -- mostly. It -- I wasn’t trying to spy on you, sweetie. I promise.”

I wrap a foreleg around one side of Twilight’s rump and press the riding crop into the other. “So, you trust Trixie?” I whisper.

“Of course!” she cries, slowly thrashing, “You did some bad things before, but you were just -- misdirected -- sad and alone. You’re a good pony, I know it.”

Misdirected. Sad. Alone. I guess it’s not entirely false. “And you respect Trixie?”

“Of course! I love you!”

My head falls onto the soft, plump flesh beside Twilight’s tail. It was just a misunderstanding, an unlucky coincidence that Zecora even found those stupid spells. It was just Twilight being her usual magical, dorky self. “That’s good, Twilight. You don’t know how glad I am to hear that.” I move to put my mouth to her right cutie mark and start kissing it, letting her velvety coat caress my lips. Messaging her other flank on the spot where I hit her, I say, “Since you’ve pleased Mistress Trixie -- and because I love you so much -- Trixie will give you a choice: do you want Trixie to mount you like the dirty filly you are, or -- or would you rather do it face-to-face?”

A nervous titter shivers down her body before she says, “Aww. Look at my big, scary mistress being sweet.” Her tone gets more serious. “Just kidding; I love you too. I -- I feel like I should say face-to-face, but…” She trails off, her slick lips grasping at my chest, her rump trembling.

Standing, I say, “But you need Trixie to bestride you like the mighty pony she is; after all, you said you wanted Trixie for her big, bold personality.” I lightly tap her flank and grab the dildo and harness. “Just let Trixie get ready.”

“A-actually -- Mistress Trixie?” Looking up from the hole in the harness, I see Twilight’s ears drooping shyly. “All of this stuff with the spells; it kind of goes into -- could I tell you about my last fantasy?”

“Ooh, Trixie likes,” I say, putting a hoof on her flank, “Fine, but don’t you dare leave out a single detail.”

“O-okay, Mistress; I’ll do my best.” She tucks her head against her bent, bound up forelegs. “Well -- it starts with me trying to trick you into taking off the amulet. After all of my tricks, you take Zecora’s doorstop, but instead of taking the Alicorn Amulet off, you just wear both of them, and -- and instead of banishing me again, you say that you’ve got a much better idea, something more humiliating. You use your magic to hold me in place, so that all I can move is my head, and then -- and then you walk in front of me. Panicking, I ask what you’re doing, and you don’t say anything. You just stand there, and for a second, it looks like nothing is happening, but then -- then this big, dark blue thing starts growing from between your legs.”

She swallows audibly. “It takes me a second to realize what it is, but when I do… And you’re just smirking at me, letting your -- your penis drop -- in front of all of Ponyville, and it’s plain to see what you’re going to do, and when it’s fully grown -- almost to the ground -- you walk behind me. A few ponies try to come to my defense, but you just flick them away, and -- trap us both in a bubble, like the one you put over Ponyville, and then -- you mount me, and -- and there’s nothing I or anyone else can do about it. And you just pound me, calling me your little broodmare and your helpless plaything. It seems like forever, you writhing on top of me, just battering me and stretching me, but eventually you -- you finish inside me, promising it’s just the first time of many.”

I guess it’s not entirely unexpected, but it’s still shocking. Does she think Trixie is that -- vicious -- evil? Just maybe with the amulet, but definitely not otherwise. It seems like she’s finished, her head still quietly down, waiting for some kind of response. “Trixie didn’t quite expect -- that. Well, why does Trixie have a dick?”

“M-magic, I guess,” she says sheepishly, “With all of the other things you were doing with the amulet, it doesn’t seem outside the realm of possibility, does it? Besides -- you needed s-something to f-fuck me with.”

“I guess so,” I say with a giggle. “So -- you said it was big?”

“Very,” she giggles with me, “Extremely. Inconceivably. I -- I didn’t think they could get that big.”

I step around to her side and put my mouth to her ear. “And how did you like it?”

“It -- it looked yummy, but I don’t know,” she says, turning her head and pressing a blinder against my muzzle with a smile. “It was just a fantasy. Why don’t we find out for real?”

“A little roleplay? Big, bad Trixie dominating the weak and helpless Twilight Sparkle? Gladly,” I whisper, running a hoof from her throat to her chest. “Well, Sparkle, how does it feel to lie defeated at Trixie’s hooves like the weak little filly you are? How does it feel knowing you’re about to become Trixie’s newest toy?”

“O-okay,” she says sheepishly before clearing her throat. “T-Trixie!” she gasps melodramatically, struggling halfheartedly to pull away from my hoof, “S-stop! You don’t have to do this!”

I turn, float the harness up, thread the dildo through the hole, and maneuver it to strap it on, quivering a bit as it brushes my teats. “You’re right, you know: Trixie doesn’t have to do anything, but she wants to do this. Don’t worry -- as long as you accept Trixie’s Greatness, Trixie is sure you’ll enjoy this.”

“Please, Trixie!” she says. It sounds like she’s trying her best to be serious and in character, but a little giggle ruins the effect. She’s so adorably naive. “You -- you can’t! Besides, it’s too big!”

“Trixie will forgive your slight,” I say, whipping her flank, “but don’t ever imagine you know what Trixie can or can’t do. Now, don’t worry, my little pet.” I hesitate for a second, looking down her back, preparing to hop on. As it usually goes with this particular act, it’s not exactly my most graceful moment, throwing my chest onto her butt, wrapping my forelegs around her, but it does feel -- powerful, having her writhing under me, the silky hair of her tail rubbing my belly. I take a couple of steps forward until I feel the toy pressing against her. “Of course Trixie is big, but we’ll make it fit -- even if we have to stretch you out a little bit.”

“Trixie, please,” she starts, her rump rising and falling under me as she pushes against my hind legs, “a-at least be gentle.”

“Shh,” I whisper in her ear, “It’s okay: Trixie will only be as rough as she needs to be to break you.” With that, I wiggle my hips around, teasing the toy against her outer lips. After a second it sticks in her folds. “Well, Sparkle, Trixie hopes you’ve accepted your fate, because you’re about to be filled by Trixie’s Greatness!” I shove my hips forward, pressing into her with a slow determination. She cries out in a pleasantly submissive way. At this point, I don’t think she’s even trying to play the helpless victim any more, but that’s fine: she sounds happy.

The harness barely tugs on my flanks as I push the toy ever deeper into her, until my crotch is practically against her rump. Her soft moaning peaks, turning into a jagged yell, “That -- that’s too deep! Please, Trixie, it hurts!”

I hurry to pull back, trying to get her back to those happy moans. “A-a little pain is to be expected as Trixie sates herself, but Trixie is sure you’ll start liking it. After all, Trixie is supreme among lovers!”

She whimpers. “Trixie -- please don’t…”

“Don’t what, Sparkle?” I ask. I’m not sure that I should stay in character, but it can’t hurt. “Trixie wants to hear you beg. Go on, Trixie might even consider your request.”

“Don’t,” she moans, “don’t -- stop.”

“I see how it is,” I whisper in her ear. I lightly bite it it and tug gently. “Does my little Twilight like Trixie’s -- uh -- big, magnificent cock?”

“Yes. Yes.” She just just moans softly as I thrust, totally ignoring my little hesitation. “Yes. Please, Trixie.”

I wonder if getting this into it is part of the fantasy? It’s time to run a little experiment. “Sparkle,” I whisper in her ear, “why don’t you tell your little Ponyvillian friends about their new queen’s greatness?”

“Everypony!” she cries out, amazingly sincere sounding, “Worship your new queen! Worship the greatest, most powerful -- beautiful -- awesome -- wonderful -- magnificent -- stupendous -- transcendent -- ineffable...” Each thrust pushes a word out of her mouth, like a stream of huge, twinkling butterflies escaping her heaving sides. The elation in her voice totally justifies the weary heat growing in my hips and back -- and makes me clench around the tickly ache growing between my flanks. “Perfect -- flawless -- superlative -- radiant.” For a second, the words stop, replaced by loud, mewling moans and then a sudden shout. “Trixiiieee!” The eee keep going as she shudders under me, legs twitching with each thrust.

A few seconds after she stops, I hop off, just as dignified as I hopped on. As I lift Twilight up and undo all of the restraints, my muscles sing praises to the still, solid floor. “Well, my little pet, Trixie hopes you enjoyed it -- and, if you didn’t, there will be plenty of chances to learn to -- in between taking care of Trixie’s beautiful foals.” Surrounded by all of the stripped cuffs and cords and straps, I spin Twilight around and bring her face to mine. “Now -- give your little Trixie a kiss.”

Woozy and panting, she looks down at me with lidded eyes and slowly puts her lips to mine. “Thank you, Trixie. That was perfect; you’re perfect. I don’t know if you hear that enough.”

“I could certainly stand to hear it more.” I set her down and gently kiss her nose. “But even once from you is nice.” As she stands there, casting a dopey, adorable smile up at me, the ache between my flanks flares up. “Twilight, Mistress Trixie needs you to do one more thing.”

“Yes, Mistress?”

I turn and lay down on the blankets creased on the floor, lifting one leg and bending my rump towards her. “I need you to finish me off. It -- it won’t take much.”

“Gladly,” she says in a pleased, little voice. She floats the blue dildo from the floor, still slick and glinting with her juices, and wobbles over to me.

“Get down here and hold me,” I murmur, reaching out to her.

She flops down, shimmies to me, her belly on mine, and pulls my muzzle against her neck. “Now it’s my turn.” Her breath is hot on my ear, the sound of her horn tingling in my cheeks, the toy electric as she pushes it against my lips. “My sweet little showpony.”

I shove her shoulder. “Just -- do it, Twilight,” I whine into her coat, “Please.”

Pressing her jaw against my face, she wiggles the toy inside. The flare pushes against my insides, a bulging, tingling fuse burning it’s way to the fireworks deep inside me.

The tickling under my belly. It’s so hard to talk. “Tell me -- tell me how perfect I am again, Twilight. Please?”

“Okay,” she whispers, slowly burning that fuse with each deliberate thrust. “You’re mighty -- brilliant -- dazzling -- exquisite -- marvelous -- potent…” This time, the words are little grey moths, tenderly lighting on my lips, crawling into my ears with quick, shivering feet. “Puissant -- ravishing -- sublime -- superb -- preeminent -- resplendent...” Re-splen-dent. Each syllable echoes down my body, bouncing off the bulk of the toy, sending skittering shivers out to my coat. “Superb -- stunning -- opulent.” After so many words, and just a few thrusts, I’m whining into Twilight’s neck, trying to pull the toy from her grip, doing my best to use the hot body against me and the legs so tight around me to scratch the crazy itch spreading across my skin. It isn’t loud and explosive like Twilight’s, like the fireworks I expected, but a quiet, curling ember, folding inside myself and around Twilight to get that pressure that it needs.

“Is that good, Trixie?” Twilight rasps.

There are no words, just helpless little sounds and snuffling and quivering, but Twilight seems pleased with that. Her nibbling on my ear sends the final fluttering feeling down my neck, across my coat, into the deepest parts of me.

Once the fire burns out, its fuse removed, I just pant against Twilight, trying to get her warmth to seep into my worn muscles. When I talk, my voice is so weak I’m not sure I actually made a sound, “Thanks.”

“Of course,” she whispers, just as soft.

“Do you -- do you have enough juice to clean up?”

She puts her lips to my forehead. “I do; just relax, I’ll take care of it.”

As the tinkling of her magic starts again, I sink my head into her chest. I murmur, “I -- I liked that. It’d be nice if you did that more often, especially with that -- show you want me to do. I -- I don’t know...”

Still waving her head around, I guess putting up our gear and cleaning the floor, she tugs me closer. “Shh. You’ll do great, my stunning, flawless, ineluctable Trixie. Just rest.”

With Twilight’s words coating my ears, I let my head collapse onto one of her legs, letting her be my pillow, my blanket. At some point, I dream, a cold wind, taking me away.