A Captive Audience

Smooth, shining, silver, perfect. In the mirror, my forelock is perfectly coiffured, not a single hair out of place. It’s almost like, as Twilight puts in her continuing little pre- and post-loving poetry sessions, a gentle, argent stream blessed to course on such a beautied, clement slope, blessed to wend about such a majestic peak, blessed to… S-something like that; it’s not like I memorized the things she said last night as she stroked my mane, murmuring to me so gently as I drifted off to sleep. A-anyway, I think I’ll run my brush through it a few more times, just to be sure.

Setting down the brush and grabbing a little hoof mirror with my magic, I turn it this way and that, making sure my coat is clean and even, my mane voluminous as it drapes over my shoulder, my tail, barely visible with the mirror over my head and off to the side, straight with a saucy little curl on the end. Everything looks up my usual, impeccable standards, but still -- there’s so much riding on this, I can’t be anything less than perfect.

Looking down the stairs to the main library, I can’t see Twilight; I guess I’ll just have to summon her. “Twilight! Twilight, come here! Trixie needs someone to witness her perfection -- and maybe make sure she didn’t miss anything. Twilight!?”

“Just a minute!” She calls up, sounding kind of annoyed. Pssh, what could Twilight be doing that’s more important than attending Trixie? I mean, today is my big day -- our big day. Everything she wants, everything I want, it all rides on this day. In five quick days, that idea on the road from Zecora’s house gave way to planning, then invitations, then decoration and catering, and now the party, far too soon. I was hoping I could get Fluttershy to -- teach me about other ponies, like she did before, but I was only able to visit her twice. At least I got to see all of her animals, and she gave me a few really catchy lines about making friends with other ponies. I focus my gaze on my reflection, trying to calm my nerves.

After a minute, practicing my winning smile in the mirror becomes boring; even I can only take so much of my famously brilliant countenance before going numb in the face of its constant, overwhelming beauty. What to do… Aha! Against the wall by the stairs, the new pair of plain saddlebags Twilight bought for me sits, and inside -- a deck of playing cards, a few bits, and a hoofkerchief. I put them all on the table beside the mirror. I haven’t used stage magic in quite a while. I mean, why use fake magic when there’s real, powerful magic at my disposal? But, like I told Twilight the a while ago, sometimes less is more. Plus, I’m sure pulling out all of my tricks couldn’t hurt.

I clear my throat and wave a hoof at the bed and the quietly attentive books lining the shelves. “Ladies and gentlecolts, mares, stallions, and foals of all ages, welcome to the show of the Great and Powerful Trixie!” And, lighting my horn, shyuuu, shyuuu, fireworks! Well, small fireworks anyway. What’s a show without fireworks? “Trixie knows all of you are dying to see the most stupendous and wonderful limits of her power, but why don’t we start off a bit smaller? After all, we wouldn’t want to rush the climax.”

“For her first feat, Trixie will not need her horn; no, she will employ the magic of the Zebra witchdoctors, mysterious magic from across the eastern sea that even an earth pony can use. Now, Trixie needs a volunteer from the audience.” A little something I learned from an earth pony stage magician while I was reevaluating my life after that -- thing with the amulet: volunteers, not victims. “How about you, miss uh -- Megafauna of the Everfree?” Fittingly, the book is large and blue. I’m not going to actually get it out, of course not, but it doesn’t hurt to practice the whole routine. I pull the deck off of the table and hold it out with a hoof. “Now, madame, if you would please pick a card and memorize it without letting Trixie see it? Then we’ll cut the deck and Trixie will find it using the fabulous powers she has learned over her many adventures.”

I fan the deck between my hooves and run through the cards from the top; nine of bits, nine of combs, knight of combs, six of troughs, six of blades. There we are. I’ve always liked blades the best: change, pride, intellect. What’s not to like? “So, you have your card, madame? Good. Now, place it on top of the deck and Trixie will proceed to lose it so that it may be found again.”

I cut the deck in half and put the bottom card, an eight of blades, on top of miss Megafauna’s card. Wiggling my hoof over the top of the deck and pulling it up into the air, I intone, “Mighty spirits of Equestria, spirits of the plains and the forests and the mountains, Trixie commands thee to help her with the humble task of finding this fine lady’s card!”

I look up from the cards and address the audience. “Now, the spirits of Hippica, the Zebra homeland, are very different from the spirits of Equestria. Hippica is a wild place, unlike our little corner of the world. Trixie doubts most ponies would last a day there. Even your Great and Powerful host barely survived long enough to find the village she was searching for, eating scraps from the plants she found and scaring off the vicious beasts that roam the savannas with her illusions. While the spirits of Hippica must be placated and beseeched, the spirits of Equestria, long under pony dominion, must be commanded, and so,” I cry out, looking back down to the deck and cutting it again, “Spirits of Equestria, Trixie commands thee, find the chosen card!”

I cut the deck a few more times, each time commanding the spirits to help me. Once the audience is sufficiently rapt, I stop. “Now, my little ponies, can you feel the spirits, whirling around the room, filling the air? Can you feel the chill of the Crystal Mountains? The dark, looming height of the Everfree? The warm winds of the San Palomino? The spirits are here. Now, madame, together with the spirits, we will find your card.”

I look down at the card on top of the deck on my hoof and, in my best stage whisper, utter, “Spirits summoned at my command, find the card with thy helping hands. Spirits here at my beck and call, reveal the card, reveal it all.” I pull the top card off of the deck: the eight of blades. I must have miscut somewhere. Either this trick will be a smash hit, or it will fail miserably.

“The spirits are telling Trixie that this is not your card, but they say we are getting close!” As I repeat the chant over the next card, there’s a flash of purple off to my side. Whirling to look at it, the deck falls from my hoof.

Standing behind me, smiling, is Twilight. “Oops, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. You know, Roseluck and I heard your whole act from downstairs. It sounded like a lot of fun.”

“W-what? Twilight?” Sputtering, I look from Twilight to the books, no longer so attentive, to the spindly carpet of cards spilled on the floor. “T-that’s okay. So, who’s Roseluck? What were you two doing?”

“Oh, she’s the pony who grows all the nice roses they put in the rose cakes from Sugarcube Corner and the roses we plant around town after Winter Wrap-Up, and I was helping her find a book on horticulture. It took much longer than I thought; Spike must have reshelved a few things incorrectly.”

That seems a little shaky. “Horticulture? Isn’t that vegetables and stuff? That doesn’t seem very useful for growing roses. Is she trying to branch out or something?”

“It’s about plants in general, so it's still useful, but still....” She giggles, turning her beautiful grin on me. “Maybe it’s getting too thorny for her.”

“Yeah?” I find myself grinning with her. “Maybe she’s afraid of getting tangled up in it.”

“Yeah, or…”

Twilight is interrupted by a loud horn from outside. It sounds like some kind of foghorn, maybe? Twilight and I look at each other before another blast makes her cover her ears. “What is that!?” she shouts in the suddenly loud silence.

I frown and shrug and walk over to the window. Twilight joins me, crowding against my side. Down in the street, like coffee spilled on a clean, white table cloth, a whole bucking pot of it, there sits a -- a boat, a little tugboat with paddles and an engine and a cabin with a smiling Pinkie Pie face staring out of it, topped with a tiny, white, blue-billed captain’s hat with the emblem of the sun and moon on it. HMS Twixie is stenciled in white on the side near the bow. Is it some kind of misspelling of my name, or maybe some kind of pet name? Pinkie is -- weird -- but she doesn’t seem stupid, at least not stupid enough to mix up a w and an r. Well, at least there aren’t many ponies around to see this, although I’m sure the whole town must’ve heard that horn. “Ahoy, there, landlubbers!” Pinkie cries out with the same cheer I’ve seen the few times I’ve experienced her presence, “Ready to shove off!?”

Twilight opens the window and shouts, “What!? Pinkie, what -- what are you doing!? Where -- what -- I mean, why is there a boat!? How did you get a boat!?”

“Silly Twilight, I don’t have a boat! Why would there be a boat!? I mean, we’re at least a hundred miles from the nearest body of water that could support a boat!” She pushes on the cabin and -- and the whole thing falls over, landing in the street with a little puff of dust, leaving Pinkie standing there over what looks like a cardboard cutout, still wearing her tiny hat. “I just wanted to set the mood, y’know!? Besides, Twixie is my favorite ship, or at least a pretty good one!”

And now she’s said it! Well, it’s probably best to follow Twilight’s example with these kind of Pinkie Pie things: accept it and try to move on. I turn to Twilight. “So, uh, what do we do? Is she our -- escort?”

“I don’t know.” She whispers.

“Come on, you two!” Pinkie cries, “The show’s in an hour, and I’m sure you want to help finish the decorations, right, Trixie!?”

For a second, all I can do is stare down at her. “Y-yes?” I venture.

“Then get down here, you Great and Powerful silly-filly!” Silly-filly!?At least she kept the G&P. “But make sure you wash up this time! We don’t want a repeat performance from our favorite horndogs; there’re going to be foals there tonight!”

Wow. Leave it to Pinkie to stand there with a grin like a sunbeam after bringing up something like that. I’m getting tired of hearing about it, first from Mrs. Cake and Pinkie, then Rainbow Dash, and now Pinkie again. Make one little mistake, go out in public forgetting that you smell like hot sex one time, and these Ponyvillians will never let you live it down.

“W-well, are you ready?” Twilight looks at me with an embarrassed smile.

“That depends.” I smirk at her and turn to show off all of my preparations. “How do I look?”

She looks me over and then pulls me into a kiss. “You look even more wonderful than usual! I see you styled your mane! You shined your horn, got a hooficure, even had your coat brushed!” Blushing, she takes a step back and looks down. Well, there’s no need to tell her that I did it all myself, since I couldn’t get anypony around town to do that for me. “You’re -- you’re beyond lovely. You’re going to -- knock’em dead, right? Is that the terminology?”

“That’s right; knock’em dead. W-what about my act? Do you think everypony will like it?”

“That card trick sounded like fun; I think the foals will enjoy it immensely. And -- I don’t know -- the light show about the princess and the lady knight. I -- I know I wouldn’t mind hearing it again, especially if you do it like you did last night, you know, make the princess -- purple, and the knight -- blue, and… Well, if you don’t think that’s too forward.”

When I look at her, she’s looking down, blushing, with the cutest little smile. “Do you need someone to swoop in and save you?” I hop over to her and put a foreleg over her back. “Someone heroic!? Someone brave and gallant!? Someone utterly in love with you? Someone-”

“Really good at sweet-talking!?” That pink maniac interjects, somehow beside me as she jumps up and sets her forelegs on Twilight’s rear.

Twilight yelps and bolts forward, shaking both of us off. When she turns, her eyes are like plates, her irises little garnishes in their centers. “Pinkie! How!? What about the door!? We just fixed it last week! We just fixed it!”

“Don’t worry, Twilight! I didn’t use the door, so it’s perfectly safe. I’ll even Pinkie Promise, if you want.”

Twilight flinches and covers one eye for a second. “No, you don’t need to do that, Pinkie; I trust you.”

“Well, let’s get going, then! Don’t forget your stuff, Trixie-wixie! After all,” Pinkie says with a grin that I don’t like at all, a grin that I would call, were I feeling dramatic, positively serpentine, “You’ve got a show to put on!”

For a second, she meets my glare with that grin before turning to Twilight. “So, are you excited for tonight, ‘cause I’m sure excited for tonight! I mean, it’s been at least two weeks since we had the streamers and everything up at Sugarcube Corner! Two weeks! Can you even believe we went that long without a party!? And tonight’s gonna be super special ‘cause we have our own showpony! I mean, as long as she's not a little miss meanie-pants like she was last time! And the time before!” She shifts her eyes over at me. “And probably all the times we weren’t there for.”

And I was starting to believe Pinkie Pie might actually be a kind, forgiving pony, unlike the rest of the boors in Ponyville. “Trixie resents this foul accusation! Trixie has done plenty of nice, friendly,” I sputter for a second as I try to find the word, “Humble shows!” I step up to her to give her a piece of my mind. “Just watch! After tonight, whenever anypony thinks of the word humble, they’ll think of me'!”

“Trixie! Pinkie!” Twilight yells as she steps between us. “I need you both to be grown mares, not petty little fillies.” She turns and levels a hoof at that pink lunatic. “Pinkie, there’s no need to be passive-aggressive! You will let Trixie have this show and you will give her a chance to prove herself as a good pony. And Trixie,” the hoof is levelled at me now, “Do you even realize the irony in what you just said!? If you want to be a part of this community -- my community -- my friends, then you’ll have stop reacting so defensively to every little thing! That’s what this whole party-slash-show thing was about: letting you be a part of things here! You know,” she says softly, putting her forelegs around me, “You don’t have to be this way. No matter what other ponies say, just let it go. It’ll take some time, but your shining personality will win them over.”

“Fine.” Pinkie Pie mutters, her mane drooping. I guess she’s been put in her place. “We’ll just drop the passive.” Or not. “There’s nothing shiny about her personality! She’s just a big, stuck-up, egotistical meanie.” she yells, pointing a hoof at me around Twilight, “The only thing shiny on her is her dolled up coat and mane! Last time, she took away my mouth! My mouth! Do you even know how hard it is to laugh without a mouth!? Or talk!? Or sing!? Or eat!? Or -- or anything!? I had to use my tail to bake her cupcakes! And don’t get me started on her disgrace to rock farms everywhere! She probably bullied her way into working there!”

“Pinkie!” Twilight snaps around.

I can’t help retorting, especially when it’s all lies! I have done good by other ponies! “I did not! As far beneath her as it is, those ponies needed Trixie’s greatness on that rock farm! If not for Trixie’s power, half of their crop would have been lost!”

“Trixie!” Twilight puts a hoof on my shoulder.

I’m on a roll now; let’s just make sure she knows who she’s dealing with. “Have you ever seen an earth pony try to break down a twelve foot high boulder? Not pretty!”

“Oh, yeah? Well this earth pony’s broken fifteen foot boulders, no sweat! And-”

In a flash of purple, the pink buffoon disappears. Twilight wipes her brow. “There. Let’s just give Pinkie a little time to cool off. And you.” She turns to me, scowling. “I told you not to shout other ponies down! Nopony will ever like you if you just keep giving them reasons not to.”

Having Twilight yelling at me is the worst; I thought she was on my side. “But -- but I have to! Nopony will respect me if I don’t! We’ve already seen that with the ignorant foals you call friends.”

“Trixie! Don’t insult my friends! Don’t...” She sighs. “Don’t you think that any of the things they’ve said have merit?”

“No!” That Ponyville shame weighs my head down as I consider it. “I mean -- yes, but they just keep twisting the knife! I’ve tried apologizing; I’ve tried asking for another chance! What am I supposed to do? Am I just supposed to take this abuse?”

Twilight looks away for a second. “Well -- it isn’t like that! It’s not really -- abuse.” She looks back to me with that little smile, but it’s a bit more strained, a bit more brittle. “It’s more like they’re just -- pranking you, or -- or berating you. They do bear some ill will towards you, and, though I hate to say it, some of it is justified, but still -- they just want to get even with you for boasting when you first came into town, and then -- the Amulet. They aren’t really justified, not as far as they’re going, at least, but if you -- laugh with them, or apologize again, or -- or something -- we can make this work! I mean, why can’t you be the way you are around me when you’re around them? You know, relaxed and humble and -- and just brilliant. You can keep your pride without putting other ponies beneath you -- or at a distance.”

All of this is getting old. It’s like being trapped in a hall of mirrors, just bumbling around, looking for the way out, and having my reflection distorted and thrown in my face. All of the energy from practicing earlier, the anger from confronting that pink idiot, it’s all just pouring out of me. I’m tired. “How, Twilight? What do I do?”

“Twilight!” Oh, no. It’s Pinkie Pie again, yelling from outside the window. “That wasn’t very nice! Is Trixie making you into a meanie like her!?”

“Pinkie!?” Twilight looks past me to the window.

I let my neck loll around. A prismatic cloud of balloons floats up outside, leading a pink hoof by a fall of strings. A deflated puff of a mane and a scowling pink face follow it. “Friends don’t zap friends to the other side of town! Did she make you do it? Huh?” She yells as she steps inside and leaves the balloons to lift off.

“No, she did not, Pinkie.” Twilight’s voice is hard, unwavering. She’s kind of scary when she gets stern like that. “I did it because the two of you were being a pair of squabbling foals, and you two needed to be separated for a bit.”

“Well why don’t you just take my mouth away, huh?” Pinkie Pie takes a step towards Twilight and I. “Huh? Then I won’t be able to argue back!”

“Pinkie, Please! I don’t want to argue with you, and I don’t want you to argue with Trixie! I just want things to be peaceful -- the way they were before.”

“Then get this bully out of Ponville! I mean, I can’t believe I agreed to throw a party for her! I must have forgotten how unbearable she is when she isn’t shoving cupcakes in her face!”

Shoving? When we visited Sugarcube Corner, I took at least four or five bites on each one, and I only ate four -- or five -- or maybe eight. As libelous as her words might be, they don’t do much to me. I can’t lift my head to look at her, or Twilight. “I’m sorry, Pinkie Pie.”

“What was that, you big, blue meanie?”

I dare to look up. Pinkie Pie is frowning so intensely, it’s almost the exact opposite of her normal, manic smile. "I said, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about your mouth."

The way she’s looking at me doesn’t change at all. “Sorry about my mouth, huh!? What, you don’t like hearing somepony telling the truth about you, instead of a bunch of big, fat fibs?”

“Pinkie!” Twilight interjects, “She’s trying to apologize!”

“Oh, yeah!?” Pinkie Pie turns that angry frown on Twilight for a second before returning to me. “I bet she doesn’t even know how to.”

“I’m sorry I took away your mouth!” Somehow, I have the strength to yell. “I’m sorry for all the horrible things I did to you and everypony else!” I’m finding it harder and harder to believe the things Twilight says about it being bad to bully other ponies; it felt so much better than being on the receiving end.

“Yeah? Well -- well you should be! Nopony should have to go an entire week without sugar! And don’t get me started on that time you made me dance polka -- with no music -- for ten hours straight! Polka without music -- it’s like cookies without milk; it’s just cruel.”

I wish I was somewhere else, anywhere else, anywhere without this pink, persecuting psycho: in bed with Twilight, feeling her breath on my neck, nuzzling her ear, listening to her whisper sweet words into my coat; sitting down with Spike and Twilight for a nice salad, or some apple pie, and making small talk; going out to visit Fluttershy and seeing all of her little animals, especially those flashy parrots, with their loud, jaunty calls. Even out between places, on the road, rain, shine, or snow, destination or no, anything would be better. Even being hungry in a cold stable would be better; at least there no one would be yelling at me. Even…

“Trixie? Hey, Trixie?” A hoof shakes my shoulder. My eyes pop open, blurred and stinging, to a pink face and two big, blue eyes. “Are you okay?”

What!? How dare she act like she’s my -- my friend! “Pinkie Pie. What do you want!?”

“Well…” She drops her head and hides her eyes behind her forelock. “I didn’t mean to be so -- mean. I-I mean, It’s just -- now you just look so frowny-wowny, and I can’t stand it, even from you, and especially when it’s my fault, and after you apologized, and plus, Twilight gave me a really mean look, so -- come on, turn that frown upside down!” She raises her head and puts her hooves to my cheeks, pulling them up. “Please?”

I literally can’t show my displeasure with those hooves holding me, so I take a step back, freeing my face to scowl. “Do you think your cutesy little act and pulling on Trixie’s cheeks will make up for the things you’ve said? After all, Trixie is a different pony -- a better pony, and none of the things you’ve said about her are true -- at least, not any more.”

“Well then...” Pinkie Pie grins as she draws the word out, almost like she’s savoring the hesitation before the volume that’s sure to come. “How about a CUPCAKE for our sad, reformed antagonist!?” Leaning towards me and turning her head to the side with an ear-to-ear grin, she holds a blue-frosted, pink-sprinkled cupcake up. “Or if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure a party will, and -- guess what? We have a one all lined up, just for you!”

Antagonist!? I wasn’t an antagonist, just a bystander. Well, the first time; the second time -- I went too far -- made some mistakes. And -- the party: more Ponyvillians, just ready to disdain, dismiss -- to hate me the moment I get on stage. The worst part is that, like Twilight said, they have good reason to. “Trixie -- doesn’t think this is such a good idea any more. Trixie doesn’t think she wants to go.”

“But Trixie -- you need to do this!” Twilight says, tenderly putting a hoof to my cheek, “You can’t just stay in the library. I mean, you made so much progress the other day. I need you to live here, to be a part of Ponyville, friends with my friends, and, for your own sake, you need to exercise your special talent. I mean, I can’t imagine stopping my studies and my magic. Besides, everypony will support you -- even Pinkie’s on your side, right, Pinkie?”

“Yepperooni!” she cries with a huge smile, hopping and landing in front of me in a crouch, wagging her tail like a dog, “One-hundred-and-ten percent!”

I don’t trust it. There’s no way she just could just flip-flop like that, no way that she’s really my friend. “Why? Why are you doing this, Pinkie Pie?”

“What do you mean, silly filly?” she asks, staring at me with wide eyes, her tail still, her body no longer bouncing, “I just want you and Twilight to be happy, and besides, you aren’t a meanie, right? At least, not any more. That means we can be friends!”

A sigh scratches at my throat. “And what does that mean?”

“It means -- it means,” Pinkie Pie stammers. Maybe she wasn’t prepared for this. “It means I’m your friend, and you’re my friend, and we’re friends together, and -- and you should totally go to your party! Come on!” She grins like the first neon signs of Manehattan flickering on.

As I start to roll my eyes, Twilight glares and shakes her head: Trixie. Looking over Pinkie Pie’s bowed, grinning face, I finish my eye roll: What!? She sighs and the glare melts into a pout: be nice, please?

Looking back at Pinkie Pie, I try to make my expression as positive as possible. “Trixie -- Trixie will be your friend, Pinkie Pie.” Even as Pinkie Pie’s grin widens, Twilight sighs again and gives me a nonplussed stare. “T-Trixie means, she would love it if you would be her friend.” I put my hoof out to her.

Pinkie Pie slams her hoof into mine, crunching my pastern. “Alright!” she cries. With a pained grin fixed on my face, I shake my hoof out and mumble a reply. Apparently she doesn’t take half measures in anything, even hoofbumps. “Then what are we waiting for!? Come on, Trixie,” she says, pulling on my aching hoof, “The party can’t get started without the star! Oh, but first, one more thing: I want you to Pinkie promise not to be a big meanie-mcmeaner-pants.”

“O-okay. So how do I…”

Before I can finish, she starts yelling, “I’ll show you, and promise not to be a meanie-mcmeaner-pants to you at the same time!” She starts waving a hoof in front of her chest, then puts it to her eye. “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye. There we go; now you do it!”

I try to mimic her, crossing my chest. “C-cross my heart and hope to -- fly, stick a c-cupcake in my eye?” Finishing, I put my hoof to my closed eyelid. That wasn’t so hard.

“Yay!” Pinkie Pie cries, hopping in circles around me, “Now it’s time to par-tay!”

“Y-yep,” I stutter as Pinkie Pie loops a foreleg around my neck and starts pulling me forward, “Par-tay… Wait! Trixie’s things!” Pulling against that pink force, I levitate my saddlebags, brush, cards, and cape over, managing to slip them behind Pinkie Pie’s leg and drape them over my back.

As we march past Twilight, she gives me an embarrassed, tight-lipped smile: sorry. I glare back: tonight. Her lips quirk into a smug, infuriating smirk: I know.

As Twilight falls in behind us, she cries out. “Look at you girls! So, finally getting excited again, Trixie?”

“Yes,” I sigh, “Trixie is just brimming over.”

“Me too,” Pinkie Pie wheezes, voice high and tense as a tightrope, “I can hardly wait!” She lets go of me and starts skipping down the stairs like a filly.

Finally free of her clutches, I start shuffling through the cards, flipping each of them face up, straightening and neatening with increasing anxiety. Two of bits. Eight of troughs. Four of blades, six of bits, knight of troughs, eight of bits, twoofblades, kingoftroughsthreeofcombs... Flipping through them, each card is a disappointment. Halfway through, I can’t take any more. Card after card, and never the eight or six of blades. It may seem foalish, but I thought --- maybe if I could finish the trick, find Ms. Megafauna’s card, it would be some kind of good omen, something to show that my luck with these ponies was changing, something to redeem this show.

That’s fine. With a determined tension in my horn, I constrict the pack of cards with the hoofkerchief and shove it into one of the bags. If fortune won’t give Trixie a good show and a party and friends, then Trixie will make it happen herself. “Me neither, Pinkie,” I say, my voice steady as we approach the entrance to the library, “Me neither.”

“Hey, I still have this cupcake!” Pinkie says, lifting the little pink-and-blue confection up as we leave, “If you don’t want it, then I’m going to eat it. This is your last chance!”

It kind of ruins the resolute mood I was setting, but -- I do like cupcakes. “Trixie -- Trixie will take it!”

***

The walk is uneventful enough, except for a few ponies giving me the evil eye, but the approach to Sugarcube Corner itself -- that’s something else.

Even from a block away, the party-fied Sugarcube Corner looks wacky with decorations: enough streamers to turn the whole building into a piñata, most of which are, strangely, green; copious amounts of frosting and glitter piled on top of the, uh, normal frosting on the eaves; and enough balloons hovering over it to make Pinkie Pie’s little flying stunt look laughably underwhelming. I feel like I’m walking up to some foal’s drawing of a house with a pink lunatic bouncing around me. I’m not sure what to say, but she’s got such a big, bright smile, I feel like I need to say something. “You’ve really -- outdone yourself, Pinkie Pie. Trixie is impressed with -- just how many decorations you managed to put up.”

As we get closer, I get a glimpse through the windows: ponies, lots of ponies. “Trixie thought you said it would just be a few ponies, Twilight. It looks like a -- a fair or something in there.”

“It was only supposed to be a few ponies,” she says flatly, her eyes narrowed at Pinkie Pie.

Pinkie Pie stops bouncing for a second as her eyes fix on us, almost looking suitably contrite. “Well -- we wanted to make sure it was a good party so that everypony would like Trixie, and that made me want to invite everypony, ‘cause the best parties are full of ponies having fun, so -- so I did.” She inclines her head at me and grins nervously. “That won’t be a problem, will it, Trixie-wixie?”

“Of course not,” I say, taking another look at the milling manes inside the window, “Trixie regularly performed for dozens of ponies across all of Equestria; no, a candy shop full shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Technically, it’s a bakery full, but I’ll let that slide,” Pinkie says, as she starts bouncing again.

“How very gracious. W-well.” I clear my throat as we stand on the threshold. “Trixie guesses this is it.”

Twilight kisses my cheek and gives me a nuzzle. “You’ll do great, sweetie. Knock’em dead, for me.” Making sure Twilight knows I appreciate her with a grateful smile, I open the door, spilling onto the street the babble of a herd of ponies and the tiss-do of easy-listening Applewood pop.

As I walk through the door, a couple of ponies, curious, turn to face me. One, a mare with a neon pink coat, a neon green mane, and a flowers cutie mark is smiling, even after seeing me. The other, the beige-coated, red-maned pony from last week, isn’t as gracious. From her cutie mark, a rose, and, once again, Twilight’s talk, I imagine I know who she is. Here we go: more and more and more of the same.

“Hi!” the fuschia one says, shoving her hoof forward for a shake, “I’m Daisy, and this is my sister Roseluck.” Suspicion confirmed. “My other sister, Lily, is around here somewhere. You’re Trixie, right?” she continues, “Twilight’s marefriend? The one the party is for?”

“Yes,” I say, taking her hoof and tossing my forelock dramatically, “I am the Great and Powerful Trixie, showpony extraordinaire. Uh -- thank you for coming, miss Daisy. And miss Roseluck -- Trixie is sorry for everything the other day. For all of Trixie’s talent, she -- has problems with other ponies, sometimes.”

“Why, you’re welcome! Just call me Daisy,” she says, her smile growing, “I can’t wait to see the show. I’m sure it’ll be great!”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Roseluck says with a wry smile, “It’s nice to meet you; after all, that was another Trixie, right?” She puts her hoof out, prompting for another shake. “Show me that this Trixie is better.”

“R-right. Another Trixie.” For a second, I can’t say anything. Both of them are actually giving me a chance. “Well, this Trixie will do her best to delight. Th-thank you both.”

“No problem. Hi Twilight, Hi Pinkie,” Roseluck says as the others come up beside me. “You girls should check out the food table. It’s pretty well picked over, but the Cakes are doing good keeping it stocked, and I made a special dish for the party -- my strawberry rose cake; it’s pretty awesome.”

“Ooh!” Twilight’s eyes grow as she turns to me. “You’re in for a treat, Trixie.”

“Yep, it’s super yummy! But -- you’ll have to save me a piece, girls. I’m going to go talk to Rarity,” Pinkie exclaims, “She was helping with the decorations; I need to see what’s left for the show to begin.” She winks at me. “Don’t worry; everything’ll be setup just like you wanted it, Trixie-wixie.”

As she heads off into the crowd, I quickly find the stage, a little wood box set up beside the main counter, in front of some stairs: a foot-high platform, just wide enough for two of me nose-to-tail; a couple of lights on the floor pointed up at the stage, and a few more near the ceiling; and a sweeping, shiny, light blue fabric banner, painted with stars and moons in purple and yellow. It looks like Rarity is on top of a ladder, putting a few finishing touches on the banner -- including my name, which isn’t just like I wanted it. Trixe. That’s not how I spell my name! I can’t believe the incompetence -- or the malice. Twilight always made her sound like the very spirit of generosity, but that casts some serious doubts on her claims. “Twilight! Twilight -- look at that! Look at Trixie’s name!”

Twilight looks for a second, and a little smile creeps onto her face. “I think it’s funny. Maybe it’s a spelling from Prance.”

“You don’t -- you don’t think she’s trying to make fun of me?”

“Of course not! Rarity wouldn’t dream of doing something like that! Besides, it would be something less than perfection -- which she can’t tolerate.”

“Alright. If you say so.” It’s okay: Trixie is the most important part of the stage, and Trixie still needs to fill her tummy. “Hungry?” Twilight nods and smiles. With one last look at the stage, I peck her cheek and head towards the food.

As we walk, ponies turn to look at Twilight and me. Some of them actually smile, but most of them remain neutral at best. I go over a few of Fluttershy’s little mantras: A single smile can go for miles; a friendly word is always heard. I try to smile at each of them, saying my excuse me’s and nice to meet you’s and thank you for coming’s, trying to get a few of them to like me, and -- a few actually seem to, dropping little curtsies in return, or smiling and waving a hoof. I bite my lower lip, the smile slowly growing genuine.

Standing at the food table, I turn inward for a second to bask in the light of those smiles. Ponyville ponies smiling at me, almost like I was one of them instead of some antagonist -- some monster. “Did you see that, Twilight!?” I say as Twilight steps up beside me, “They smiled at Trixie! They -- they like me.”

“Of course they do, sweetie,” Twilight says, levitating a cupcake to my mouth with an expectant, almost lusty look, “Who could resist the Great and Powerful Trixie?”

A dancing, hoof-stomping chuckle burbles up from my throat as I bite into the cupcake. It seems too good to be true, just smiling and saying thank you and -- poof, friends, almost like magic, or at least not-enemies.

“Uscrs mr,” a stallion says from behind me. As I turn and back out of the way, Mr. Cake bustles by with a tray of cinnamon rolls in his mouth and a cake on his withers. Setting them down and replacing them with empty dishes, he looks at me, then looks away, at the floor, into the crowd. “Th-thanks there, T-Tr-Trixie.”

“Of course, Mr. Cake; Trixie is always magnanimous.” The cinnamon buns are practically steaming, covered in translucent icing, and the cake looks perfect, with little strawberries rising up from rosy icing. “This looks amazing, just like Trixie would expect of you and your wife. Trixie wanted to say -- thank you for doing all of this, especially after everything Trixie did. It means a lot to Trixie.”

He smiles nervously. “W-well, we aim to please. Now, if you’ll just excuse me.”

“Hey, my rose cake!” Roseluck says as she comes up beside me and Twilight, “Try a piece, Trixie. I promise -- it’s delicious.”

“I’ll get us each a piece,” Twilight says, levitating a cake server over the cake.

Roseluck grins intently as Twilight starts cutting, practically drooling. “So, Trixie heard you checked out a book on horticulture. Are you, like, looking to do a little more than growing roses?”

“Oh, I was looking for some companions for my roses. I had some holly bushes planted, but I want something brighter, y’know? I was thinking petunias, or some kind of flowering creeper. Maybe a splash of blue; wouldn’t that look good?”

“Trixie guesses so. Speaking of looking good, Trixie was wondering…” I consider stopping, but -- I just have to know, “Your neighbor, down the street, with the carrots? Did she actually -- dye her hair that nasty green color?”

“No,” she says curtly. She turns to look at me, very, very nonplussed. “I don’t know exactly what it is, but her hair changes color every so often, green to orange to green. But, I mean, does it matter?” She takes a step closer. “What if she did decide to dye her hair like that? It’s her choice. She doesn’t have to look good for anyone, especially not some stranger.”

I look down, trying to avoid that accusing gaze. “Of course it’s her choice, there’s no problem, Trixie just -- Trixie just wondered, that’s all.”

“Good.” She says, starting sound more relaxed. She turns back to the cake as Twilight starts distributing the pieces onto plates.

Maybe I can put her more at ease? “It’s just -- Trixie does not like that shade of green, and -- Trixie wouldn’t want her hair to be that color, that’s all.”

As Roseluck turns again, glaring, Twilight announces, “Hey girls, cake! Here you go,” she says, giving a plate to Roseluck, “and you,” she continues, floating another to me. Quickly, she takes a bite and exclaims, “Mmm, this is really good,” spraying crumbs all over us.

I smile and take a bite. It is really good, the moist, sweet-tart strawberry cake followed by a subtle, mouth-filling taste, almost like pepper, chewing on the roses in it. And Twilight’s getting better too, saving me like that. Why would I say something so stupid? Why would I even bring it up? “You’re right; Trixie has never had rose cake this good! The roses complement the strawberries so well! You must have excellent plants, and -- uh, soil, and -- of course, love and care!”

Roseluck swallows, sighs in delight, then gives me that wry grin again. “Well, thank you. Twilight,” she says, turning away from me, “I got a chance to skim over the chapters you told me about on the way here, and I have some questions; would you mind finding somewhere quiet?”

“That sounds fine,” Twilight says, heading off into the crowd, “Trixie, why don’t you go mingle? This is your party, after all.”

I turn to look at the crowd. Most of the ponies are gathered in little neon or pastel clumps, talking or laughing or dancing to the music. For a second, a bright green mane catches my eye. “D-Daisy?” I ask, walking up to her. As the pony turns around, I see -- it’s not Daisy at all; it’s actually an effeminate stallion. I wave him off. “S-sorry; Trixie’s mistake.” I don’t know any of these ponies, don’t have any way to strike up a conversation. Just then, I see a flash of hope -- a literal rainbow in the corner, popping out of a small knot of ponies -- and a tight knot too.

Rainbow Dash is standing between Rarity and Applejack, all of them facing the wall, heads together. It looks kind of suspicious, but still -- they’re Twilight’s best friends, after Trixie, of course -- they have to accept Trixie.

As I walk up, hoofbeats lost in the chatter of the crowd and the music, I hear Applejack practically shout, “What’s that, sugarcube? I can’t hear a dern thing with all this ruckus.”

“I said, Applejack,” Rarity’s lilting voice rises above the crowd, “that everything is in place. Oh, yes!” She giggles. “A whole vat of chocolate; very thick, darling, practically fudge, plus a little something extra.”

“Ain’t that a little much?” Applejack says, turning towards me slightly as she reaches a hoof up to scratch her neck.

“Nah, it’s harmless,” Rainbow Dash says, waving a hoof, “and plus -- it’s been a long time comi-”

She cuts off at a flick from Applejack’s tail. She and Rarity slowly turn their heads to look in my direction, then whip back around, away from me. They aren’t -- planning some kind of revenge on Trixie, are they? They wouldn’t -- not today. But still, what else could it be with talk like that?

“H-hello, girls.” I say, trying to put on a grin, “Trixie -- just -- wanted to meet all of you.” When they just stare, expressions somewhere between startled and dismissive, I go on. “That is, the New and Improved Trixie, who is very sorry for the things she’s done. Trixie just wanted to see if -- if Trixie could ask for a -- hoof in friendship.” I just keep grinning as the silence stretches.

Finally, Rarity smiles, ugly, lifting her head and narrowing her eyes and showing just a sliver of teeth. “Of course, darling. All is forgiven; after all, a proper lady is always generous with her clemency. Well,” she starts, “you’re certainly looking put together this afternoon.”

“Y-yeah,” Rainbow Dash says, her wings flexing, her eyes darting around and lighting on me like a fly, “Not too bad.”

“Yes,” Rarity says, “she cleans up quite nicely, don’t you think, dear AJ?”

“Uh, yep, sure does.” Applejack answers, first looking at Rainbow Dash, then at Rarity, then at me, her face blank. “So, uh -- how’s Ponyville treating ya this time around, Trixie? And, more important, how’re you treating Ponyville? Better than previous, I hope. Have any trouble moving in?”

Immediately, I like her, having the chance to actually meet her; she’s so adorably straightforward, especially the way she steps closer to Rainbow Dash, and the accusing, revealing look she shoots at her. Her attraction -- and her jealousy -- are plain to see. “Trixie and Ponyville have been getting along fine. At least, the Grrreat and Powerful Trixie hasn’t met any problems equal to her -- e-especially with a little help from Twilight and Fluttershy.”

“Well, that’s, uh -- that’s just great.” Applejack puts a foreleg around Rainbow Dash’s neck, and starts tugging her away. “Hey, RD, I’m getting kind of thirsty. Why don’t you walk me to the punch bowl, you little rascal?”

Looks like it’s just Trixie and Rarity now, and I don’t think either thinks much of the other, but still, I need to give her the chance. “Sooo -- Trixie heard something about fudge. Trixie likes fudge; it’s almost as rich and tasty as Trixie herself.”

“Oh, a fudge connoisseur, are we?” Rarity says, smiling coyly, “I could hardly tell; you must be very conscious of your whole -- body image thing.”

What a nag; like she’s any different. “W-well, beauty is important for a showpony; everyone likes a mare as pretty as Trixie. Oh, but Twilight told me that you’re pretty conscious of your physique, running every morning. Maybe Trixie can come brighten up your runs.”

She waves a hoof at me, like the mean, dismissive pony she is. “If you want, dearie. After all, a lady takes reasonable steps to maintain her figure, but still, avoiding certain indulgences, like fudge, certainly helps.” She looks at me sideways with narrowed eyes. “Yes, maybe joining Twilight and I on our runs would be good for you.”

“Maybe; Trixie’s physique is already pretty excellent, though. Trixie has always worked hard, pulling her wagon and putting on her shows. Speaking of which -- Trixie is sure you’re looking forward to the show, right?”

“Certainly, darling! It is the event of the evening, after all, and you’ll finally get the affection and attention you deserve after all -- you’ve -- done.” Her words are nice -- sweet, even, but her tone… It sounds almost inequine in its nastiness.

That’s okay, though; Trixie doesn’t beat other ponies through meanness, she beats them with friendship, like Twilight. “Thank you, Rarity. It really makes me happy to have your support. I know I did a lot of horrible things to you, so -- thank you for forgiving me.” I stretch a foreleg out for a hug.

For a second, Rarity just looks at my leg, seeming confused, or maybe disgusted. “Well, what else could I do?” She moves in, curling a foreleg around my neck, quick and light like a flower petal -- or a wasp. Stepping back, she starts, “Well, actually, darling, I…” She trails off, looking at me, almost -- concerned? She must feel bad for all of the things she was insinuating, now that she sees how good Trixie is.

“Don’t worry, Rarity,” I say, trying to alleviate her guilty conscience for her, “Trixie knows you didn’t mean to attack her; you probably just felt threatened, what with another unicorn as magnificent as yourself moving into town, but Trixie, truly being the most humble, generous, and gracious pony, will accept your apology.”

Her slowly blossoming smile wilts as I talk. Her voice is flat as she says, “How -- unexpected, that a pony of your truly enviable self-image would be -- so forgiving, making sure each and every pony knows that you forgive every slight, no matter how small, no matter the intention. Yes, you are truly a pony deserving a most particular kind of attention.”

The nerve! “Are -- are you making fun of Trixie’s forgiving nature?”

“Of course not, darling! I’m just raving about some of your more, uhm -- insalubrious qualities.”

Insalubrious? I guess that’s a compliment; I’ll have to ask Twilight later. “O-oh. Well, thank you. Trixie truly is -- insalubrious.”

Twilight’s voice sounds out behind me. “Hi, sweetie; I see you found a friend!”

“Y-yes,” I say, turning away from the party to hold her for a second and nuzzle her cheek, “Rarity and Trixie were just -- matching wits -- society stuff, like ladies do, you know?”

“I -- I guess?” After returning the nuzzle, Twilight walks past me. “Thank you for helping with the decorations, Rarity! The banner and everything else looks great.”

“Of course it does, Twilight! I was truly -- inspired.” Rarity says, glancing at me with a malevolent grin.

Twilight turns back to me, missing the evil expression on her friend’s face. “Well, Pinkie sent me over here to grab you; she says the show’s ready whenever you are.”

“A-alright.”I look at the stage, a sudden quiver in my knees as I start walking over, Twilight lagging at my side. “Well, if it’s time…”

“Yoohoo, Trixie!” Rarity calls out from behind me. When I turn to look, she still has that grin on her face. “Break a leg, darling.”

***

Standing beside the stage, listening to the music and the milling ponies, I take a step back and lean over, putting my neck against Twilight’s, fencing her ear with my own. “I -- I can do this, right, my sweet little scholar?”

“Do you really need to ask?” she whispers, moving her lips to fondle the offending ear, “We both know you can, and you’ll do great.”

With one last look at those smiling eyes, I set my bags down by the stage, float my implements out, and don my cloak. My gaze walks up the three stairs, across the yellow-lit stage, to the small, round table in the middle. Somehow, the stage looks so empty, completely unlike the stage I had in my wagon. I take the first step up, then the next, and the next, and then I’m on the stage, feeling like a filly in the middle of a timber wolf den, but -- but that’s the silliest thing for somepony as Great and Powerful as Trixie to think. I soundly put my cards and hoofkerchief on the table. Trixie is going to wow these ponies, earn their respect and their friendship, and take her place as this little town’s premiere showpony!

Stepping up to the edge of the stage, I look over the bustling crowd of ponies and clear my throat. “Everypony, everypony, feast your eyes on -- the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

A pair of fillies next to the stage look up from their little bubbling glasses, then roll their eyes and walk away. The haughty little twits don’t know what they’re about to miss -- but apparently neither does anypony else.

“Psst -- Trixie-wixie!” A voice whispers loudly from offstage. I look to find Pinkie waving me over by the stairs behind the stage. After I walk over, she grabs my withers and puts her grinning face inches away from mine. “Are you ready? ‘Cause I am!” she half-whispers, half-shouts, hissing like a shaken up bottle of pop recklessly opened. “I even got the music you asked for!” she says, pointing to a little record player.

“That’s -- that’s great, Pinkie. Thank you.” I hesitate, looking into those unbelievably huge eyes, but still -- she has done a lot for me. I pull her into an embrace. “Trixie really is glad to have you as a friend. Trixie sees the work you put into this for her, and -- and she appreciates it.”

Her grin gets even wider. “Aww, no problem! It’s always a lot of work putting together a party, but it’s totally worth it to see my friends smile! Now, get out there! We’ve got a show to put on!” She picks me up by the barrel and tosses me with a weird kind of grace, landing me on all fours in the middle of the stage, cloak fluttering down onto my rump. A second later, her voice booms out over the crowd. “Come one, come all, and see the Great and Powerful Trixie!” I look back to find her shouting into a yellow megaphone. “Be enthralled by stories of wonder and danger! See her perform amazing feats of mysticism! Marvel at her death-defying stunts! Watch in awe as she-”

With a hoof covering one ear, I magically flick the switch on the device and stop her before she goes too big. Trixie doesn’t plan to defy death tonight. When she looks at the megaphone, then at me, I give her a sheepish smile and wave. Her eyes don’t stay on me long. I follow them, turning to find -- a horde of ponies, staring at me.

Smile, smile! My face stretches wide and my voice calls out, “Ladies and gentlecolts…” Looking over the crowd, I stop. The setting sun streaming in through the windows doesn’t quite make the right ambience. I light my horn and pull the curtains on all of the windows. That’s better: a dramatic darkness, what little light there is silhouetting the ponies in the crowd, shining on eyes and manes. “Now that’s the atmosphere for a magic show! Ladies and gentlecolts, mares, stallions, and foals of all ages, welcome to the show of the Great and Powerful Trixie!” Shyuuu, shyuuu! Finally, fireworks -- for real ponies! A second later, a few seconds of triumphant music plays from backstage.

Pinkie’s a little late on the draw, but still -- it’s almost like it was before -- before my first trip to Ponyville. This time, Trixie will do better. “Thank you all for coming to see Trixie’s magnificent display! I’m sure you’re all eager to begin. For her first feat, Trixie will need a volunteer. Anyone?” A few ponies near the front awkwardly look at each other, but nopony raises a hoof or steps forward. “Anyone at all? I just need somepony,” I say, flourishing the deck from the table, “to pick a card!”

“Oooh! I’ll do it, oh, Great and Powerful Trixie!” A small, round shape jumps above the crowd: Snips. It’s good to see I have at least one more supporter out there, even if he is a little dopey.

“Nah, pick me, oh, Great and Powerful Trixie!” Snips’ ever present companion Snails yells, gangling through the crowd behind Snips, trying gain the lead by pulling him back. As they head for the front, I smile. Make that two -- my enthusiastic little admirers.

“No need to fight -- both of you may come pick a card together.” Fighting ceased, they hurry through the crowd, ponies cringing away as they squeeze by. Finally, they take the stage, as bubbly and earnest as ever. “Let Trixie shuffle the cards,” I say, doing so several times, “just so everypony is sure there’s no trickery. Now, my little fans,” I hold the cards out, “choose a card, show it to the audience, and put it on top of the deck -- and make sure Trixie does not see it.”

Snails snatches the deck out of my hooves and they turn away from me to huddle.

“This one!” one says.

“No, this one!” counters the other.

“But she’d like this one better!”

“But this one’s way more G&PT!”

Looking out over the crowd, it seems like some ponies are beginning to bore of all the action. I cough. The colts both look back. Trying to keep my smile, I say, “Just pick one! Snips: choose the suit; Snails: choose the number.” As they turn to look at each other, mouths opening wide, I add, “And don’t let me know!”

With a bit of pointing and some shuffling and a few furtive whispers, they decide, and turn back to me, presenting the deck. Before taking it, I ask, “So, your card is on top? You memorized it?” When they nod, I take the deck and turn to the crowd. “Now we can begin! Trixie will lose the card,” I cry, cutting the deck, “so that it may be found again! Trixie will not use her unicorn magic, but bend the spirits of Equestria to her will using the powers she learned from the Zebra witch doctors!”

Finally finished cutting the deck, I start on the mumbo-jumbo and the hoof wiggling. “Spirits of Equestria, Trixie commands you to help her find her little fans’ card!” I sneak a peek at the bottom card, an eight of blades, coincidentally, and start cutting the deck, careful not to separate the eight and whatever card they picked. Now it’s time for the distraction. “Now, Trixie imagines most ponies only know Hippica, the zebra homeland, through rumors and stories. It’s a wild place, full of untamed beasts and onerous spirits, but Equestria is docile, long pacified by us ponies, and so the spirits must be commanded! Spirits of Equestria, Trixie commands you! Help Trixie find the card!” I finish, stomping a hoof. I drop my voice, bringing out the stage whisper, “Now can you all feel the spirits? Can you feel the chill of the crystal mountains? The warm-”

“Of course, sweetie!” Rarity cries sarcastically from a couple of ponies back, waving a hoof, “The spirits are all here to do your bidding! Please, go on with your little trick.”

That nag! Doesn’t she know how important setting the mood is!? I bet she does, and she’s trying to ruin my show! “You! You…” mean-spirited, self-involved… I should really teach her a… No, no shouting ponies down. Besides -- Trixie is great enough to go on with the show, if the nag doesn’t keep interrupting me. “Thank you for your support, Rarity, but -- please refrain from commenting until the end of the display. Trixie needs the utmost concentration to command -- the spirits!” I finish, throwing my hooves over my head.

“Yeah, the spirits!” Snails calls out.

“Yeah, shut up and let Trixie do her thing!” Snips follows.

They’re little dorks, and not in the cute, sexy way Twilight is. “You two, too,” I say, turning to them, “Please be quiet while Trixie still has a bit of -- concentration left to maintain.”

“Sorry, Oh, G&PT!” my little fans say in unison.

Clearing my throat, I turn back to the crowd. “Now that all of her fans have had a chance express their -- enthusiasm, Trixie will continue.” Holding the deck up, I break out the witchy voice, loud and harsh. “Spirits summoned at my command, find the card with thy helping hands. Spirits summoned to heed my call, reveal the card to show to all!”

“Now,” I whisper to the audience conspiratorily, “Trixie will proceed through the deck, letting the spirits guide her with their arcane knowledge. Please refrain from comment; Trixie requires absolute silence to commune with -- the spirits!”

I pull the first card; thankfully, it’s a two of troughs, not the eight of blades. Pretending to be half-distracted, I hold the card up to a spirit just beside me, then put the card on the table and let my voice waft over the crowd. “Not this one,” and again with a six of brushes, “Nor this one.” After ten or so cards, I ease up on the mumbling and just draw, show, and drop the cards, acting hypnotized and waiting for the eight of blades to appear. Peeking at the audience between my eyelids, a few actually look engaged, still, breath held, like they’re hiding from a timber wolf. Behind them, I spot Twilight, eyes wide, silently grinning, shivering with anticipation. And then -- my eyes come to Rarity and her merry little gang off to the side, including Pinkie Pie, who looks like she’s waving her hooves, and pointing at me, and whispering to Rarity. Wait -- but wasn’t she just… Oh well; it’s Pinkie Pie. But Pinkie wouldn’t -- conspire against Trixie, would she?

I pull another card, barely bothering to look at it until I see that it’s the eight of blades. “Everypony!” I cry out, “The spirits grow restless, telling Trixie that we are close.”

Deciding to draw it out a bit longer, I stealthily pull the second card from the top and turn to my little fans. “Is this… No, this isn’t your card.” I draw another second. “The spirits say… No, not this one either.”

Both Snips and Snails are looking up at me, biting their hooves. Several ponies in the audience, including Twilight, are doing the same. I pull the top card, a -- a six of blades -- and show it, switching between my little fans and the audience. “This, the siix of blades,” I cry, unable to keep a quiver out of my voice, “is your card! Have the spirits guided Trixie correctly!?”

For a second, all is silent -- then Snips calls out, “Woah, that’s awesome!” stomping his front hooves.

“Yeah, that’s totally our card!” Snails says, turning first to his other half, then to the crowd, “Aww, man, she totally did it!”

Hardly missing a beat, Twilight whoops, “Yeah! Trixie!” A few startled ponies look back at her, then soft hoofbeats spring up, here and there like flowers. Rarity doesn’t look too happy, but Pinkie Pie does, looking up at me and grinning. Even Applejack and Rainbow Dash seem supportive, cheering politely. Daisy, standing near the front, is practically bucking as she stomps, and Roseluck, beside her, has her little grin on. A pretty mare with a pink coat, on Daisy’s other side, is tapping her hooves. It looks like Daisy even got her other sister on my side.

“Thank you, thank you! Now, everypony,” I raise my voice over the crowd, “Trixie isn’t the only one who deserves your applause, though deserve it she does. Let’s hear it for -- the spirits of Equestria! Especially you, Mr. Everfree!” I drop a little curtsy to the empty space to my right.

At the mention of Equestria, more ponies join in. Maybe they’re just happy to have a good party and a bit of silliness, especially with such a strong, beautiful pony to lead it. As the applause dies down, I clear my throat and smile. “Now, who’s ready for Trixie’s next feat!?”

A small but enthusiastic cheer starts, led by Twilight and Daisy. Not waiting for silence, I cry, “What shall Trixie do next, Ponyville!? A story, thrilling, moving, like nothing you’ve ever heard?” Lighting my horn, I put up a pair of cartoon ponies above the stage: one on her side, one hoof to the sky; the other kneeling down, cradling the first’s head. “Or should Trixie make a pony -- disappear!?” The laying pony does just that, to her friend’s surprise,”And then reappear!?“ She pops up again on the other side of the stage, joyfully holding her forelegs over her head. “Or maybe a bit of Trixie’s beautiful voice? Well? Trixie is benevolent and insalubrious; no request is too much.”

“Then why don’t you try a little something on, darling?” Rarity calls over the rest of the crowd, her voice loud and clear, “I promise -- it’s simply luxurious.”

“Rarity!” Pinkie says. Looking over, I see her jumping up and down in the empty ring growing around Rarity, waving her hooves at her, like she could wave away the icy, glittery glow around the white unicorn’s horn. Rarity’s just getting her outfit. She just can’t be trying to do something to Trixie, right?

I let the light-drawn ponies pop out of existence, and walk over to the table. “Trixie will model whatever you’ve got. Surely it is beautiful enough to grace Trixie’s form.” I unknot the ties on my cloak, fold it up, and start putting it underneath the table when I feel something warm and heavy hit my ear. Trying to flick it off and failing, I look up.

A thin, dark stream of something is pouring over the edge of Rarity’s banner, near a circular bulge. For a second I just stand there, staring puzzled. What is it? It smells -- sweet?

The circle jerks, faster than even Trixie can respond, and, like a reverse dunk tank victim, I'm drenched in this heavy, sticky, stuff, head, withers, flanks, the temperature of reheated soup. It looks like not even my poor cloak was spared. "Rarirtr!" I cry, trying to spit the horrific, delicious goop out. It's chocolate sauce, by the taste, but it's also rather salty. At least I can cook better than that nag.

As I look down at the ponies, most of them backing away aghast, something slaps my neck. I reach around to pull it off when it happens again on my flank. Looking, I see more clumps falling at me, dark, wriggling missiles. I fling myself out of the way, or at least try to. My hooves slip in the treacherous chocolate, sending me to the floor in a painful rush of air. More of those things fall on me, one on my nose, one on my tail, everywhere, heavy and sucking. As I crawl away, trying to get to the side of the stage, a cloud of glowing mites falls around me -- glitter. One of those gross jelly -- things impales itself on my horn, flopping over my mane and my eyes.

Over it all is Rarity’s cackling, like a witch out of a foal story. “It suits you, darling!” She cries out from behind my sticky green veil, “Yes, I think it is beautiful enough to grace your form. I think I even made a few improvements, I dare say.”

“Rarity!” Pinkie yells, “You said you were going to be nice! That wasn’t nice at all! I -- I told you not to do it! You’re totally ruining Trixie’s party!”

So it was a -- a plot! A conspiracy! She planned to ruin this, to make Trixie look like a bumbling, idiotic, useless, pitiful moron, a fool for ponies to laugh at. And Pinkie was -- in on it!? She didn’t tell me? But at least she tried to stop it, right?

Finally out of the puddle of chocolate, I stand and drag a hoof across my eyes, pulling the gelatinous things from my face. One splats on the stage. The wide tendrils of the one from my horn cling to my hoof like wet moss, or grass, or -- seaweed?

I throw it down and wipe the chocolate sauce off of my forehead. “Rarity! H-how could you do this to the -- the G-Great and Powerful Trixie?” I cry.

One of the fillies from before, the one with a lackluster grey coat and huge, ugly glasses, comes to the foot of the stage and says, “More like the lame and, uh, chocolatey Trixie, right, DT?” She turns to look at her pink-coated companion with an evil grin.

“Totally, SS,” the pink one says, laughing, loud in the murmuring hush, “She’s so lame. What is she even doing on the stage? Somepony should grab her before she really embarrasses herself.”

“Come now, Trixie, dear,” Rarity says, glowering across the room at me, “It isn’t that bad. You’re ever so much sweeter now, don’t you think? And look -- you’re practically glowing! No, wait, my mistake, that’s just the glitter. Well, at least the seaweed wrap will help, don’t you think?”

“Rarity! Stop this!” Twilight joins Pinkie in giving Rarity what she deserves, “This -- vendetta against Trixie -- this is too much!”

“It’s just a harmless bit of fun, Twilight,” that nag says, dismissing my Twilight, “Besides, I thought she wanted to entertain everypony, and look -- she is!” Rarity waves a hoof at the audience.

This isn’t entertaining at all -- but as I look over the crowd… A few ponies are looking on me and the scene with Rarity in horror, but most of them -- most of them have their mouths hidden behind their hooves, their sides trembling, their eyes sheepishly taking the two of us in.

They aren’t -- laughing at Trixie, are they? Even Daisy’s pink sister… I thought they were -- friendly. I thought they could be my friends, but they’re just mean, petty ponies, ready to laugh at Trixie at the slightest sign of weakness. But -- but Trixie will show them. Trixie will show them that she is Greater and more Powerful than any of them!

Looking around the room -- Trixie has a few ideas about how to get back at Rarity. I light my horn. First a little embarrassment; I lift the snacks: cakes, cookies, cupcakes, puddings, sugar cubes, cinnamon buns -- and levitate them high above the crowd. When they’re above Rarity -- mostly -- I let them drop. My sweet, crumbling missiles seem to hang in the dark air for a second, and then -- Rarity screams, along with a few other ponies laughing at me.

“Wha- what in the world!?” Rarity cries, leading a choir of similar calls. It’s particularly satisfying when a pink and red cake lands directly on her horn, crumbling all over her pretentious, overdone mane, leaving it covered in crumbs and streaks of frosting and little red swatches. Yes, very satisfying.

They aren’t laughing now. As they all try to figure out what’s happening, I pick up the big bowl of candied cashews and walnuts and peanuts. Now for a little pain. As Rarity scampers around, trying to brush the pink mess from her mane, I pelt her, throwing each nut like a bullet. At the first, she yips, jumping like a startled kitten. She does the same for the next, and the next. After a hoofful, she sinks to the ground and cowers, putting her forelegs over her head and starts whimpering.

“What’s happening!?” Twilight yells, looking up at the bowl of nuts.

“It’s Trixie!” Rarity yells, “It -- it must be her, that beast!”

She calls me a beast!? I upturn the bowl and shower her with nuts, raining on her like hail. She howls, a high, twisting sound that rises up to the ceiling.

“Trixie! Stop!” Twilight yells, standing between Rarity and me.

That’s fine -- I can still show that petty, impotent little nag. To start, I throw the heavy plastic bowl. It hits her side, forcing another delightful scream from her. It really makes me appreciate her pretty, white coat -- the start of the ugly, yellow bruise is so easy to see. Feeling my lips curl up, I heft the heavy glass punchbowl, really appreciating the weight of it.

“Trixie!” Twilight calls again, echoed by Pinkie.

The punch sloshes as I position the bowl, showering the ponies between Rarity and the snack table. Almost there… First I empty the punch on her, soaking that pompous mane and tail into ragged tangles. As the other ponies scream and grumble, Twilight follows their gazes. “Trixie, no!” I throw the huge hunk of glass at Rarity, eagerly anticipating the impact.

As it shatters on the floor beside her, something jerks me into the air, holding me like a rag doll. “T-Trixie.” Twilight says, walking up to the stage, “Stop! Calm down! You can’t hurt Rarity for playing a little prank!”

“Yeah!” Pinkie cries, popping up beside Twilight, bouncing angrily, “Just ‘cause she was mean to you doesn’t mean you can be even meaner to her!”

I struggle, trying to get out of whatever’s holding me; I’m not finished with her. Seeing the glow around Twilight’s horn, my coat heats up, making me shiver all over. My legs go still and my eyes wander away. “B-but -- but…”

“But nothing!” Rainbow Dash yells, zooming up in front of me, “Do you have any idea what you could’ve done to Rarity if Twilight hadn’t stopped you!? I mean, look at what you did do to her!”

I follow Rainbow Dash’s hoof. Rarity looks like a Tartarus reject, just laying on the floor sobbing, soggy, covered in an entire snack table and surrounded in shards of thick glass, a hoof-sized, blue-black patch on her barrel, and several small red lines flowing down her side and face.

“I just -- I,” I mutter, unable to face them.

“You just what!?” Rainbow Dash says, shaking me in Twilight’s magic field, “You just wanted to -- to kill her over a -- a harmless little prank!?”

“Yeah!” Pinkie exclaims, bouncing up to me, “You Pinkie promised not to be a meanie, you know!”

“I-I was just a-angry,” I get out, warm tears spilling. “I just didn’t want everypony to laugh at me. I just wanted everypony to -- like -- me.”

“Well, that wasn’t a good way to handle it, Trixie. It was actually the worst possible way anypony could have handled it,” Twilight says. She groans and rubs her face. “What do we do now? Just -- just -- stay up there; I’ll go take care of Rarity.”

As she turns her back on me, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie and Applejack and all of the other ponies approach me, leering up at me in disgust. I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t. I just… I just…

As they circle below me, milling like piranhas, I close my eyes. Those words keep running through my head. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted… I didn’t… I try to think of somewhere else; warm and safe in Twilight’s bed -- Twilight turning from me, pulling the blanket away; at Fluttershy’s cottage -- violent, smashing the houses of all of her little bird and animal friends. Nopony -- I just need to get somewhere alone, somewhere with nopony else around.

As the volume level from the assembled ponies below me rises, I scrunch my eyes even harder, doing my best to curl up and escape into my own little world, however dark and full of terrors it might be. My skin feels like it’s on fire, my horn like it’s being hammered into my head.

“Twilight!?” Rainbow Dash yells, “I think-”

A train whistle drowns her out. The fire on my skin rises, sinking into my muscles. My skin feels like it’s trying to twist off. And in a wave of nausea, a blinding flash, a chill

***

the ground hits me, knocking the air from my lungs. The sudden silence rings in my ears. I blink a couple of times and look around. The sky is dark, just a hint of orange on the horizon fading to green and then velvety purple. No ponies, no magic field, just -- grass and trees and bushes and a few little cottages in the distance.

I rest my head on my hooves, feeling all of the gross stuff Rarity dumped on me squish against my cheek. The tears are eager, even crusted in chocolate. I didn’t want to hurt her. They have to know I didn’t mean to hurt her -- right? I just wanted them to take me seriously, to not laugh at me.

My body curls up, steely, my shoulders, my legs, my neck. My stomach feels weightless, rebellious. Those thought just keep running around, I didn’t I didn’t I just I didn’t Trixie just wanted They were all laughing I just… wearing a rut in my mind, tracking all that chocolate sauce and seaweed and glitter everywhere until everything is muddy, laying in a field, soaking in salt and sugar.

At some point later, there’s a flash of purple and a gentle voice. “Hey, Trixie?”

I look up, my eyes stinging and crusted together. Wiping them with a hoof, I manage to get some of the chocolate off -- I think. I blink a few times to find Twilight standing over me, the sky already beginning to fill with stars. My eyes fastened to her shadowed face, I can’t think of what to say. Do I apologize again? Do I just say, ‘Hi?’ Before I can think any more, words tumble from my mouth, “How is Rarity?”

She makes a little noise in the back of her throat. “She’s okay,” A nervous laugh slips out of her. “With a bath and some hot tea, she’ll be fine -- except for that bruise, and the cuts, but -- don’t worry, she’ll be fine.”

I get to my knees and let my head hang, too -- blah -- to go all the way. “So, what do I do now? How can I make it up to her -- and what about everypony else? I totally trashed the Cakes’ place -- again.”

“I don’t know,” she says. The tinkle of her magic starts, and then I feel it’s tingling touch caress my face, clearing away Rarity’s chocolate goo. “We can clean you, if nothing else. How -- how are you. sweetie?”

I shrink, a few more tears falling. “A-awful. I-I did it again. Just m-more reason for everypony to think I’m an idiot and a m-monster. How am I going to win Ponyville over? Maybe Trixie should just crawl into the woods and never come out.”

“What!? No.” Without hesitation, she wraps herself around me, her lips pressing against my forehead. “We will find a way. I don’t know if you and Rarity will ever be friends, but -- there must be a way; maybe we can appeal to her generosity, fix things between you two. You’ll have to be humble, maybe very much so, but...”

“What if…” For Twilight’s sake, I can hardly imagine suggesting it, but… “We could move somewhere else, somewhere Trixie doesn’t have such a -- colorful history.”

For a minute, she’s just still around me, silent. “I can’t,” she finally sighs. “My other friends are here, and I love them -- not like I love you, but -- and -- and what if Ponyville needs me? Or even Equestria? I can’t just leave.”

A little chuckle slips past my lips. “I know. It was just wishful thinking. Then, at least for tonight, how do I get cleaned up? Should we head back to the library?”

“I think I have a better idea,” she says, standing, “Let’s go somewhere a little more secluded. We can spend the night there, get you some time alone after -- everything this afternoon. Oh! And don’t worry about your stuff; I took it home, and I cleaned your cloak off the best I could.”

“Alright. Th-thank you, Twilight,” I say, rising to stand beside her, “Thank you for everything. Thank you for believing Trixie isn’t a monster. Thank you for still loving Trixie.”

“Of course. Always. I’ll never let you go.” She kisses my cheek. “Now, hold my hoof.”

As I take the outstretched hoof, Twilight’s horn starts glowing. After a second, it intensifies, growing into a shining beacon like a purple lighthouse. In a flash, a globe of solid, swirling light flicks out from the tip, swallowing both of us. Again that steam whistle, that fire, that nausea

***

and I’m standing in front of Twilight in a dark place, the chirping and croaking of nocturnal things starting their night. I look up to find tiny, jagged patches flooded with stars. The darkness in front of the sky is -- leaves? “Where are we, Twilight?”

“Some place very beautiful, very relaxing,” she says gently as she turns, “Come on.”

As she walks away, I realize I can see her, outlined by a spectral glow. “What is it?” I ask, following. She leads me to a small pond, the water opaque with a tealish light that doesn’t quite reach the trees.

Her voice is quiet and indeterminate. “When you banished me with the amulet, I trained with Zecora in magic. One day, she brought me here to work on being calm and concentrated. After the whole situation was over, I did a bit of research: this is the purest source of water in the Everfree Forest, maybe even in the whole Ponyville area. It’s totally suffused with some kind of magic -- it’s fascinating.”

“The -- the Everfree forest?” My heart starts thumping a little bit. “Isn’t it dangerous to be out here, especially at night?”

“In the forest it would be, but here… Can’t you feel the magic here? It’s safe, and beautiful, and wonderful.” She turns to me and rests her cheek against my neck. “Whenever I really get stressed about things, I come here. It’s just so -- peaceful. Can’t you feel it?”

“I don’t know.” After a second’s hesitation over the nasty condition of my coat, I put a foreleg around Twilight’s neck. “You’re here though; I feel safe and peaceful enough.”

“Aww, my little Trixie.” She kisses me again. “Okay. Come on, let’s take a swim, and I’ll give you a scrub down -- and maybe a rub down,” she finishes, voice turning sultry.

As she turns and eases herself into the pond, I hesitate. “Twilight -- I don’t really feel like it,” I say quietly, stepping into the pool, which, surprisingly, is deep enough to evade my hooves; I have to wave my legs to keep afloat, “I just want to get this muck off and -- I don’t know, sleep for a week, or just -- go stick my head in the ground for a while.” For a second, I sink until the water is up to my nose. It’s warm, much warmer than the air, just shy of the chocolate Rarity dumped on me, but much more pleasant, much more active, like the little currents are washing away my worries. “I don’t feel like a pony who deserves a rub down.”

“Don’t be silly!” she says as she comes up behind me and starts rubbing my back in long, slow, hard strokes, “You were trying to be good, and you didn’t do much worse to her than she did to you.”

“I tried to,” I whisper, rasping one leg with the other, trying to get the chocolate off.

“But you didn’t because you had friends there to stop you,” she breathes into my ear, “Remember that, and remember what you did, but don’t keep beating yourself up about it, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper. I scrub my chest and my sides, shrinking away from Twilight.

She doesn’t say anything, but just keeps working on my back. Time doesn’t seem to pass. There’s just the slap of water on our bodies, little sounds from Twilight as she reaches around me, the rush of water as I dip my head and run my hooves through my mane, splashes, very loud in the silence, as Twilight swims away. Dipping under the water again, I open my eyes to examine my forelock and -- wow, this place is amazing. It’s just ethereal, like a dream where everything is warm and bright and weightless. Twilight swims into view against that emerald void, just in front of me. She smiles and points down Looking, I find my tail, brown and green and clumped together like -- well, it’s probably better not to think about it. I motion to the surface and kick my way up.

After Twilight breaks through, I groan. “That’s so gross. Would you mind?”

She nods. “Of course, whatever I can do.”

I swim the few feet to the shore and pull myself up, followed by Twilight. “W-well -- here you go,” I say, shivering in the fall air as I turn my tail to her, “Make sure you get all of it.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” She puts one hoof against my rump. “After all, your tail is so pretty,” she says, come-hithering hard, “It’s really a shame to see it like this.”

“Don’t get too excited,” I warn her, snapping my tail, “We’re not getting past cuddling tonight.”

“Okay.” She sighs. “I guess I’ve just gotten used to it -- having sex with you, you know, near-nightly, and after all of the chaos with the party, and the -- aftermath -- I could use some stress-relief. But that’s okay; just being here with you is stress-relief enough.”

Standing there with Twilight coaxing all of that gunk from my tail, there’s just the dark, chittering forest to look at -- or at least a noisy void where the forest should be. Looking past the faint light of the pool, it seems like there’s nothing, not even starlight or moonlight, like we’re the whole world right now. “This place is peaceful,” I say quietly, “I think I could stay here -- for tonight, at least.”

“I’m glad you’re starting to like it,” she says, gently tugging on the end of my tail, “I’m glad I got to share this with you.”

Her ministrations pull a sigh from me. “Me too.” With only the dark and the pressure on my tail, thoughts of the future come forward. “Twilight -- what about Pinkie and Rainbow? Do they -- hate Trixie?”

“No. Rainbow was upset when you -- escaped, but I talked to them. I told them that you -- had problems with other ponies, especially when they didn’t respect you. I told them that you didn’t mean to hurt Rarity. Rainbow was reticent, but Pinkie understood. She said that some ponies needed more help laughing than others, that they couldn’t cope, that their -- laughers were broken. I think those were her exact words.”

I just can’t figure Pinkie out; is she a bubbly little party pony, or some kind of laughter therapist? And what is she implying about Trixie? “Broken? Trixie isn’t broken! Trixie is a great pony, a wonderful pony. She can laugh just fine.”

“I know that, but -- we all have problems, sweetie. You did -- do what you did to Rarity. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk about it at a deeper level -- why you did it.”

“Trixie is fine! Just fine! I don’t need to talk, I don’t need a therapy session!” I find myself yelling. Therapy session? Where did that come from? The chirruping of the forest drops, and I decide to quiet down with it. “I just -- I just let my temper get out of control. It won’t happen again.” An uncomfortable silence starts. Before it can grow, I ask, “H-how is my tail?”

For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything. “It’s pretty clean. Um, it’ll be nice and silky, once it’s dry."

“Well -- well, good.” I turn back to her and slowly nuzzle her face. “Listen -- I don’t want to talk, I just want you to hold me.” Keeping my eyes on her dimly lit face, I lay on my side. “I’m so tired.”

“Alright, sweetie,” she says, laying down behind me, enveloping me in warmth against the chill night air. She puts her legs around me, and noses my ear. “I love you, and I know you’re better than what you did today.”

“Thank you. I love you, too,” I whisper. Therapy session. I wrap my forelegs around one of hers. “Twilight, I have an aunt in Manehattan. She’s the pony who raised me. My dad was a showpony, like me, so she kept me when he was out doing his tours. Maybe -- maybe if I visited her, took a little break from Ponyville... A-and she’s a therapist. Maybe she could help me.”

“Take a break from Ponyville? You mean leave?” she asks, disconcerted, “But -- but then you’d be somewhere else, away from me. I don’t know if I could take that.”

I’m sure Twilight can see how this could work; maybe she just needs an explanation. “I was just thinking -- maybe I could find a way to make it up to everypony, what I did, and… I don’t know, maybe I can figure some things out. Trixie and Ponyville -- we aren’t a good match. Maybe I can fix that.”

I can feel Twilight’s anxiety against my back, tensing and wriggling. “Trixie, you can’t!” she says, growing louder, almost desperate, “I need you, sweetie. Who else will I talk about magic with? Who else will tell me stories? I-I mean, you’re just the only one Great and Powerful enough for me.”

“Is that so?” I say with a little chuckle. “Don’t worry, Twilight; it’s not like I’m leaving you.” I pull her hoof up to my mouth and give it a little kiss. “It won’t be long, plus, I -- I promise I’ll write, and you can visit, meet my aunt. You'll like her; she’s the one who started me on storytelling when I was really little. And we could go out for a nice dinner: a night out on Manehattan. W-wouldn’t that be glamorous?”

“A-alright, sweetie, if you feel like you need to do this,” she says, squeezing me and running her nose along my neck, “Just -- just make sure: a letter every day. I want to feel like you’re still right there with me in the library.”

“I will, I promise -- and it’s not like we have to stop having fun, if you know what I mean.” I stroke her hoof. “After all, the best parts are mental.”

Twilight's hoof starts wandering down my belly. "That's true. Are you feeling a little frisky after all?" she asks, her voice slowly losing its anxiety.

"No," I say, firmly putting my hoof on my flank, directly in Twilight's path, "Trixie still isn't feeling it tonight. I just -- I didn't want you to be upset."

"And that's why you're my favorite show pony." She kisses the ticklish spot behind my ear, getting a little twitch for her trouble, then lays the warm, restless weight of her muzzle on my neck. "So -- are you thinking of leaving in the morning?"

"I guess so," I yawn, "I -- I don't want to give myself time to mess up again, and besides you, there's nothing left here for me now."

"Okay. Just sleep as long as you need to; I don't have anywhere to go tomorrow."

"Mmm." I nuzzle her hoof and relax, letting her warmth seep into my back, the weight of her legs draped over my side. Tomorrow, I'll head out. Maybe I should be leave Rarity a note, tell her that I'm sorry. Maybe not. Is there anything I can get for her to help make everything up to her? Maybe some high-class makeup from Manehattan? Or some kind of fancy fabric?

After laying still for a long while, I'm finally relaxed, but with a few nagging thoughts keeping me from sleep. Twilight pulls away gently, leaving me a little colder. A few seconds later, she moans, just under her breath. I guess she couldn't wait. Oh well, I can't fault her. Blinking once against the faint, blurry glow in front of me, I quietly settle my head on my foreleg and sink deeper. Besides, I don't -- I don't mind if she -- gets off on the thought of me; that's actually pretty hot.