Chapters The train rumbles on as trees and meadows pass by the window. Briefly, I deign to consider the scenery before refocusing on something much more important: my reflection. For a second, its shocking beauty takes my confusion away: the certain violet eyes, the deep azure coat, the simple silver forelock, the short, narrow muzzle. I grin at the mare in the window and briefly consider kissing her. So beautiful. But, even that’s not enough to distract me. I look back to the creased letter with its fraying sides.
Dear Trixie, the Great and Powerful,
Wherever and whenever you get this letter, I hope it finds you well. I’ve tried to write this several times. In fact, this is the 7th iteration, and I just can’t find any way to structure my thoughts. I have things I want to say, and when I go to put them down, I don’t want to say them. It’s a very awkward feeling. I’m sure that’s something you rarely experience, if ever.
I know that we haven’t parted on the best of terms before. Even after your brilliant and helpful pyrotechnics display, I imagine that you may hold some resentment against me. I hope that that isn’t the case; I’d like to be able to call myself your friend.
Given all of that, I’ll just ask: would you come to my home in Ponyville at your earliest convenience? It’s the Golden Oaks Library; anyone in Ponyville can direct you to it. I have things I would like to talk to you about that I just can’t convey in a letter.
Your hopeful friend,
Twilight Sparkle
“Sparkle...” The word grates. “What the hay could you want to talk to Trixie about, especially -- especially after all she’s done...” I rest my head on my shoulder and sigh in earnest. This is something I’ve rarely felt: remorse, shame. Whenever I think about Sparkle, or her friends, or Ponyville, it happens. My stomach tumbles. I want to flatten my ears and close my eyes. The adoring stares I so deserve become stabbing, terrifying. I just want to disappear. I sigh again, cover my eyes with a hoof, and hide my face away in the corner formed by the seat and the wall. Finally, after a bumpy wagon ride from a no-name town on the coast west of the San Palomino desert, and a long train ride from Los Pegasus, I won’t have to wonder, I guess.
***
I stand outside the front door of the library. Each breath is a struggle. I’ve waited for nearly twenty minutes in the falling dark, listening to the sounds of the reposing village, the quiet thumps of books, the occasional banter between the purple unicorn and her dragon assistant.
“Thanks for all of your help, Spike. Would you mind doing one more thing for me?” I hear Twilight inside.
“Sure, Twilight. What’s up?” The dragon replies.
“I could really go for a cup of oats and berries, and I could use a snack for later tonight. Please?”
The dragon’s voice grows louder. “‘Kay. Maybe I’ll get some hay fries, too?”
“Whatever you want. Treat yourself.”
“Alright!” The door pops open. The stumpy, purple dragon and I face eachother awkwardly. I look away, putting the long hood of my purple cloak between us. “Uh, Twilight? Were you expecting somepony?” He says.
“No.” From inside comes the sound of a book, or several, being set down. From the corner of my eye, I see the purple unicorn step up beside the dragon. “Is that -- Trixie?”
“Trixie?” The dragon says, incredulous. “So -- uh...” He looks at Twilight.
“It’s okay, Spike. I was -- expecting her, or at least hoping she’d stop by -- not necessarily tonight, but some time. Please, come in, Trixie. Do you want something to eat?”
After a moment of silence, I manage to meet Sparkle’s gaze. “The Great and Powerful Trixie will graciously accept any tokens of admiration you offer. Maybe a cupcake?”
Sparkle smiles. “Okay. Spike, why don’t you add a box of cupcakes to that?”
The dragon looks between Sparkle and I and shrugs. “Alright, Twilight. Whatever you say.” As he waddles away, he mutters, “Crazy pony.”
With a big, stupid grin on her face, Sparkle turns and waves me inside. “Come on, Trixie! I can’t wait to talk to you! I -- I just... Come on!”
I follow her. I suppose it’s finally time to find out what this stupid purple unicorn wants. This stupid, amazing purple unicorn. “So, what do you want, Twilight Sparkle?” Ouch. My delivery was just a little off. I was going for friendly, not heinous. Really. She looks back at me with a little frown. I guess she’s disappointed or something? “Uhm -- The Great and Powerful Trixie apologizes. Like, I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I mean -- what were you so eager to talk about, Sparkle?”
She sighs. Great, way to go, Trixie. Why don’t you just knock the dragon down and stomp on their food when he gets back? That’ll definitely tickle her. She was the pony who taught you about friendship; she was the only one who cared enough to. “...one of the worse scenarios I had prepared for. I couldn’t find much material on winning over a pony who doesn’t like you, however misguided they may be. So -- do you think there’s any way we could be friends?”
I think I’ve missed something. “Wait, what? I was -- distracted.”
She huffs. “I said, it seems like you dislike me. Even after you helped us clean up and helped me with the celebration for Princess Celestia and the Saddle Arabian dignitaries, you’ve got something against me. Why?”
My jaw seems to clench on its own. I take a breath and make sure to stay calm. “You humiliated me. You tricked me. You’re -- you’re a better magician than I am, stronger, smarter.” At this point my cheeks are burning and I can barely keep from trembling. “How could I not? Even if you forgave me, I still can’t perform, at least, not as the Great and Powerful Trixie, not like I used to. Now I’m just a two-bit storyteller and stage magician. Noone cares about the Great and Powerful Trixie.” As hard as I’ve tried not to, I end up screaming. “You destroyed her, and what does that leave me with? What!?”
Her reply is quiet. “Yourself. Your true self.”
“What?”
She looks down as she says, “Well, the Great and Powerful Trixie was a lie, wasn’t she? No Ursa Major, no true, great feats of magic, but you are a great storyteller, and your illusions and prestidigitation are top-notch.” She looks up, and her eyes look troubled. “You can be who you were meant to be, instead of being a lonely fraud. You can have friends. We could be friends. Haha.” She laughs. Laughs! The nerve! “Wait, please don’t be mad. I was just thinking -- this is what’s so attractive about you.” Attractive? Buh? “It’s hardly been two minutes and we’re right to the heart of things. You’re so intense, so sure of yourself. Even when you don’t know what’s going on, even if you charge in like an idiot, you’re so certain. You never have to look at a book to decide on a course of action. I -- I guess I admire that.”
“Idiot -- you -- admire?” I’m -- uh -- yeah. “What?”
Sparkle is on me. All I can see is her indigo, rose-striped forelock. Her horn clacks against mine, resounding in my forehead. Her hoof is warm as she pulls me into her lips. They’re really warm too. Each breath’s an exercise. My heart’s tap-dancing. I back up until my flank’s against the wall. Sparkle is fixed in the center of my vision, dancing around to the shaky tune of my breath. “What -- what are you doing!?”
Looking at me, Sparkle almost seems like she’s going to cry. “I -- I like you. I’ve thought about this a lot. After the incident with the Alicorn Amulet, I was -- preoccupied -- with you. I thought about you, and I asked around about the things you had done in your travels. Even taken with a grain of salt, everything I heard was -- exciting. I wanted you, so I did some research and came up with a strategy. My books said that the best way to approach someone like you would be directly, that if I made sure you knew how I felt, you might respond in kind. And that’s -- that’s where we are now. Well?”
Before me, the mighty Twilight Sparkle is practically begging with a quivering lip and teary eyes. This show just gets more confusing as it goes on. I direct my eyes to somewhere much safer: the floor. She -- likes me. She said she admires me. And she’s so bucking cute when she looks at me like that. I wonder if it was anything like this for her on that night after I lost the Amulet. What do I say? “What exactly do you want, Sparkle?”
“Just you, Trixie. I want that confidence, that unshakeable certainty. You’re so -- exciting. Also -- I want to be your friend. You seemed so lonely, especially after you came back with the Amulet. There’s a good pony in there, behind the braggart and the liar -- one who just wants to be loved.”
Braggart!? Liar!? I unclench my jaw and let out a breath. I -- I guess she’s right, not that I could tell her that. I huff. “Of course there’s a good pony inside me, Sparkle. Whatever any pony thinks I am, whatever else I may be , I am the Great and Powerful Trixie. I’m just glad you can see that, even if you are being rude little filly.”
Sparkle gives me the most satisfying frown, before giving me an equally satisfying grin. I could get used to this. She’s so bucking cute. “Is this is how it’s going to be? I can accept that,” She says.
My lips curve, mirroring Sparkle’s. I hide my blush behind the side of my hood. “Maybe I can too.”
Sparkle coughs. “So -- what now?”
I look back at her. She looks hopeful -- expectant -- maybe even sultry? “Well...” I start fumbling for words. How do I know what to do now? My stomach rumbles. I never thought I’d be thankful for the hungry life I lead. I force a chuckle and look down at my chest. “Oh, look at that. Could we wait until the dragon gets back with that food?”
“Spike.”
Spike? What does that mean? I look at her. “What?”
“His name is Spike.” She sounds annoyed, which can’t be a good thing.
I lift my hoof and rub my cheek. “Oh, sorry. Spike. I never was good with other ponies’ names.”
“You remembered mine easily enough.”
“Your name is worth remembering. You’re -- amazing. You took every title I ever had: Great, Powerful, and even Trixie.” Saying this, I don’t feel like I would expect to. I don’t know what I feel, but it’s something really weird.
“What? Trixie? How can I take your name ?”
“My parents named me,” I can hardly bear to spit it out, “Beatrix. When I went to magic kindergarten, I was already starting on my illusions and everything. Once, when I tricked this colt into missing his chair by making a fake one, a filly I was crushing on started calling me ‘Trixie’. Trick -sy. When -- when I came back, with the amulet, you tricked me. I was stronger than you; you didn’t have a chance of beating me, but you tricked me into taking the Amulet off using illusions I never could have pulled off. You out-tricked me. You know, that nickname made my day. In fact, that was when I got my cutie mark.”
I’m not sure I like the way Sparkle starts looking at me. “You got your cutie mark for tricking another pony like that? But that seems -- really mean.”
I roll my eyes. “Who are you going to trick, if not other ponies?”
“That’s fine, but you can be nicer about it, like Pinkie Pie or Rainbow Dash.”
The pink one and the blue one? “But - but the mean ones always got more laughs. I was just giving ponies what they wanted.”
“That isn’t always a good idea.”
“But-but...” As I try to form a counter-argument, the door glides open and the dragon’s -- I mean Spike’s -- whiny little voice cries out, “Hey, Twilight, I’m back!” Both of us turn to face him as he continues,.“So, are you girls still hungry?”
I take the liberty of answering. “Of course we are -- Spike.”
He glowers at me for a second, then sighs and looks at Sparkle. “Alright, here you go.” He sets the food down on Sparkle’s desk and starts munching on his hay fries.
Sparkle levitates a cup to her mouth and starts gulping down a mixture of milk, honeyed oats, and blueberries that’s come into vogue recently. “Wow. You really like that stuff, huh, Sparkle? Somehow, I thought you’d be a little daintier eating.”
Blushing, Sparkle grins and chuckles. “Heh. When you’re hungry, you’re hungry.” I know enough about reading ponies to see that she’s nervous, or uncomfortable. She swishes her tail and I smell something. “What is that, Sparkle?”
Sparkle rubs a hoof against the ground. “W-what are you talking about?”
I open a box, levitate a cupcake over, and take a big bite. Red velvet and cream cheese? It’s amazing. I take another bite, almost finishing it. “That smell?”
Her blush gets redder. “Oh, nothing! Soooo -- it seems like you really don’t like the name Beatrix; why is that?”
I look at her through narrowed eyelids. Her ploy is obvious, childish even, but I’ll let her go, this time. Besides, I need to finish this amazing cupcake. “Take your pick: Beaty, Beet-head, a bunch of others that probably aren’t appropriate for some ponies in the room. Beatrix is a stupid name; nopony will take you seriously. Besides, Trixie is much better, non?”
“I don’t know,” The -- Spike -- pipes up, “It’s kinda nice. It sounds like a lady’s name.”
I glare at him. “Who asked -- I mean -- the Great and Powerful Trixie concedes the possibility -- maybe.”
Spike sniffs. “Whatever,” he says before stuffing another load of fries into his mouth. He’s an insolent little thing, but if Sparkle can tolerate him, then so can I.
“The Great and Apologetic Trixie asks for your forgiveness, Spike. I’m still getting used to this -- friendship -- thing.”
He waves a stupid little claw in my direction. “Eh, don’t sweat it. You kinda remind me of Twilight, before we came to Ponyville. Well, a lot more full of yourself and not nearly as cool, but still -- kinda.”
How many times am I going to be insulted tonight!? In the heat of the moment, I’m not sure what expression I’m wearing, but I’m sure wrathful would be a charitable description. “Why, you...”
Sparkle’s hoof is on my shoulder. “Ha-ha! I’m sure Spike is just kidding, right, Spike ?”
The dragon is looking at me and Sparkle with wide eyes. “Yeah, Twilight,” he stammers, “I was just joking.” He fixes his eyes on me and grins nervously. “I-if Twilight thinks you’re okay, then I’m okay with you too.”
I barely calm down enough to stop myself at an eye roll. “Oh, I’m so relieved.”
The dragon rolls his eyes right back. The nerve! “Jeez. Just try to take it when a pony puts his hoof out in friendship, alright?” Following his word, he puts out a claw to me. “Friends?”
I look at Sparkle. She smiles slowly and nods in the dragon’s direction. With as exasperated a sigh as I can muster, I put a hoof out and let Spike grasp it. “Alright, Spike. Friends.”
Sparkle squeals. “Oh, look at you two! Thank you for being so understanding, both of you.”
Spike rubs the spines on the back of his head. “What can a dragon do?”
Sparkle steps forward and nuzzles his face. “Actually, you could see about staying with Snips or Snails tonight, if you want. I know you’ve been asking for a night off for a while now.”
“Oh, wow!” Spike shouts. “Yeah, I’m sure the guys’ll be up for a sleepover. Thanks, Twilight!”
“Of course, Spike. You’ve been doing a really good job; you deserve some time off. In fact, take tomorrow off too.”
With another shout, Spike heads upstairs. “I just need to get a few things.”
I look at Twilight. She looks back, and I can see the excitement in her eyes. “What is it?” I ask.
Just a minute, she mouths with a grin.
I shake my head and take another cupcake, demolishing it in one bite. I swear, either these are the best things I’ve ever had, or it’s been longer than I thought since I last ate. After a minute, Spike returns with a bag on a stick over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Twilight,” he shouts as he runs out the door.
“Bye, Spike,” she shouts after him. As she closes the door, she lifts her tail from between her flanks and a wave of musk washes over me. Mystery solved, I guess.
My nose crinkles. “You are excited, Sparkle.”
She walks up to me, slowly, her flanks weaving from side to side. “Of course.” With a sigh, she nuzzles the side of my neck. Her hot breath, the give of her nose: it-it does feel good.
“Sparkle,” I whisper as she starts kissing me, “Are you sure you want this?”
Her lips work their way up to mine, leaving a trail of warm, damp fur. With a final press of the lips, she puts a hornswidth between us and gazes up at me, her eyes half closed. “Only if you do.”
I wrap a foreleg around the back of her neck, pull her close, and put my lips against hers. Her lips softly give as I slip my tongue inside. My tongue meets hers, firm, soft, yielding, dancing, and I can taste honey and blueberries. After a moment, I let her go and look down on her as she looks up at me, helpless, panting. “Was there ever any doubt?” I can feel the smug smile on my face as I say it. It feels good.
Sparkle must like it too, because she’s smiling. “Then -- call me a rude little filly again,” she says, breathless.
My smile widens, and I’m sure my grin could be called positively evil. All at once, I see what she wants. Who am I to deny her -- or myself? “Alright, my rude little filly.” I let the words drip from my lips. “I’m going to make you pay for those insults earlier, and you’re going to like it, aren’t you?”
She nuzzles my cheek and quietly sighs. “Yes, Trixie.”
I circle around her and put a hoof on her shoulder. “Then get on your knees, Sparkle.”
She lets herself down to her knees and cannons, then looks back at me, her eyes hesitant, her smile hopeful. She looks down and murmurs, “There’s something you may want to get, in the leftmost drawer over there.” She points with her muzzle.
As I walk over, I pull the drawer open with my magic. I look inside and my breath catches in my throat. Beside a small book, some quills, and a few rolls of parchment sits a small ring made of some dark crystal. It looks like just the right size to fit on a unicorn’s horn. I look back at Sparkle. “Is -- is this...”
“Yes. After you came back with the amulet, I thought it might be useful, some day. I -- I guess we get to test it now.”
I swallow. My stomach turns a bit as I pick up the ring. As I walk back to Sparkle, I can’t catch my breath. I’m no stranger to the one-night tumble, but this is something else. If she’s going to such pains, she must be dead serious about this. Sweet Celestia. She trusts me. If I wanted to hurt her, I wouldn’t even need the amulet: you don’t need to be strong to stop a cripple. She’d be powerless, and this time, I would have my wits; she’d have no way to stop me from doing whatever I wanted. As I straddle her back, I whisper in her ear, “I won’t hurt you, Sparkle. I promise.”
She leans her head back, presenting her horn to me. “I know,” she whispers, “You’re a good pony, Trixie.” She smirks and something, probably her tail, flicks my flank. “And exciting.”
I smile as I kiss the tip of her horn. I slip the ring over it carefully and slide it down. She closes her eyes and grits her teeth. A light pulses along the bottom of her horn and stops at the ring. “Nothing,” she says, “I’m at your mercy.”
I gently pull on her ear with my magic and nibble its tip. “And I plan to take full advantage.” She giggles and squirms, trying to turn her head away. “Ah-ah, Sparkle,” I say as I hold her muzzle in place with another field of magic, “You’re not getting out of this.” She gives me the cutest moan as I bite down softly and flick the tip of her ear with my tongue.
I let go of her jaw, nose aside her mane, and move down her neck, returning the trail of kisses she gave me earlier. Slowly, I draw a hoof down her front until I reach her chest. Her whole body shivers under me and she gasps, “T-Trixie.”
My chest touches Sparkle’s back as I nip at her neck. Her muscles ripple under my lips. “Mmm, I like it,” I whisper, “You’re more athletic than I would have thought you’d be.”
“Thanks. Every morning, I go running with RarITYYYY--” The white one with the green mane? Either way, my distraction worked. While she’s talking, I get to one side, grab her barrel between my hooves, and turn her on her side. “Aaaaooohwhatareyoudoing?” She looks up at me with her cannons pulled up to her neck, her eyes wide with surprise -- or fear.
I grin down at her and start pulling my cloak off. “Oh, nothing, dear Sparkle. You were telling me about your runs with Rarity.”
Her lip quivers delightfully for a second before she continues. “W-well, she says it’s important...” She trails off as I use my magic to make my cloak dance in front of her, quick flourishes confusing and misdirecting, hiding me from her. “It’s important for a lady to exercise to keep her figure...” I crouch down, putting my face just in front of hers, as the cloak slowly winds around her forelegs. “I-It’s also part of keeping a healthy body,” she finishes weakly, “I read that.”
“And you’ve done a great job with it,” I whisper into her ear, running a hoof along the center of her chest, down to her belly, “Your physique almost rivals that of the Great and Powerful Trixie.”
She smiles, even as the purple cloth starts knotting itself in front of her. “You are much stronger than I would have expected. Does a showpony do much physical labor?”
I turn Sparkle on her back and step over her, biting my lip in appreciation of the way her flanks spread wide, revealing the glistening plum lips of her marehood. “Don’t you remember my wagon? I hauled it for years, before it got destroyed.” She frowns and looks away. “You do remember! That’s another thing I need to punish you for.” That gets her attention. As she looks up at me, I let myself down until I’m pressed against her. “Do you want me to be gentle -- or rough?”
Her big, violet eyes meet my gaze every few seconds before darting away. She presses her bound forelegs against my chest and murmurs, “Maybe -- maybe both?”
I kiss the crook of her neck. “I like it, Sparkle. Maybe just a little of both,” I smirk and brush her cheek, “or maybe I’ll just leave you like this for little Spike.”
She smiles up at me. Her eyes never leave mine. “No, you won’t.” Oh, she’s bold. Her voice gets deeper, hoarser. “You’re as aroused by this as I am.”
Aroused? Aroused!? Laughter spews from my lips and I fall onto my side, landing with one leg over Sparkle’s chest. “Pffft, Sparkle, you’re priceless. ‘You’re as aroused by this as I am!’ Ha ha ha ha!”
She’s silent for a moment. When she speaks, she sounds upset. “I -- I’ve made a fool of myself, haven’t I?”
My laughter dies to a little smile. “No; well, maybe a little, but it’s cute.”
She looks away and quietly says, “I wanted to get it right. I wanted my first time to be -- right.”
That’s a bucket of cold water. “Your first time!? You -- you chose me to be your first? You’ve never had a coltfriend or fillyfriend before? You’ve never made love before?”
“I don’t know; I was never concerned about it before. But, after I got the amulet from you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And after you helped me with the show for Princess Celestia, you seemed like a different pony than when I first met you: kind, remorseful, humble, but still -- so proud.” She laughs and turns to me. “And after all of your magic with the amulet -- I started having these fantasies where -- you’d -- you’d ...” She squeals and blushes. “Oh, I just can’t tell you!”
I put my forelegs around Sparkle’s neck and pull her close. “You chose your first amante well, Sparkle,” I whisper, “Anypony should be so lucky as to have the Great and Powerful Trixie for a lover.”
“I am lucky.” Her forelegs bump my chest as she turns and reaches out. I pull back. We look at eachother and start laughing.
I smirk. “You forget?”
She smiles back, teary-eyed. “Yeah. I’m -- I’m sorry, Trixie. I’m just weird -- rushing into this with you.”
I can’t let that stand. I pull her in again, close my eyes, and kiss her slowly, letting my lips explore hers. Like before, they’re soft, supple, smooth, but instead of frantic and grasping, they’re now slowly, intensely alive, sucking and caressing in time with my own. It’s overwhelmingly immediate. With one last suckle on her lower lip, I open my eyes and break away. Writhing, she rubs her forelegs against me and looks into my eyes, pleading. “You aren’t weird.You’re just powerless to resist the allure of Trixie. Everything will be fine, if you listen to your Great and Powerful Trixie.” I hesitate for just a second, then boop her nose. “It seems like you’ve become my number one fan, so I won’t disappoint you.”
She giggles, at last giving me a beautiful, unhesitating grin. “Then what is your command, O, Great and Powerful Trixie?”
“Hmm...” I know what I want, but I make a show of considering her, eying her and pursing my lips. Finally, I smirk. “Tell me about those fantasies of yours.”
She blushes adorably. “Nononononono, I -- I can’t .”
I smile at her and light my horn. Her eyes pop open as I whip her flank lightly. “Who’s in charge here, Sparkle?”
She winces and puts her hooves against my chest. “No, please. It’s so embarrassing.”
I jerk my horn as I whip her again, harder, on the other flank. “You’ve already begged me to punish you. You smiled while I tied you up. What could you possibly want to hide from your Kind and Beneficent Trixie?”
She leans her face against my neck and quietly whines, “But -- but it’s different, saying it out loud -- to another pony.”
I switch flanks again and lash her cutie mark hard enough to make a loud smack. She whimpers and buries her nose in my neck. Celestia! She’s so cute with her ears down and her eyes shut tight. Putting on my sweetest voice, I whisper, “If you don’t tell Trixie your dirty little fantasies, she’ll have to get serious. Do you want that, Sparkle?”
She tilts her head up to look at me with a smile and rubs her nose against my chin. “I do. Harder.”
I give her a smile of my own as I let my horn dim, roll over, and stand. “Well, too bad.”
Sparkle’s lips shrink to a line as she puts her chin to her chest and stares at me with lowered eyebrows. I can’t stop my smile as it gets wider, which just makes her madder -- and more adorable; I haven’t even been close to mean enough yet.
“Don’t worry, Sparkle” I say, walking around her to her splayed flanks, “I’m not done with you: I’m just not going to give you what you want until you give me what I want.”
She grumbles and raises her head to look over her forelegs at me. “But -- Trixie -- please?”
I lay down and rest my chin between Sparkle’s legs, right above her marehood. I almost forget to keep teasing her, I’m so busy inhaling her scent, wet and racy and maybe -- sweet? -- almost like lilacs... It smells amazing and beautiful, but not overwhelming. Somehow, it’s just like the rest of Sparkle. I just have to lick her. I move my lips down to hers and stretch my tongue... “Trixiiiiieeee.” I look up as Sparkle’s moan snaps me out of it.
My eyes meet hers as she strains to look at me over her forelegs. In the smallest, most pitiful voice I’ve ever heard, she says, “Aren’t you going to punish me more?”
I huff and look away. How can anypony can be this adorable? She may even be nearing Great-and-Powerful levels of cuteness. I stand, and when did it get so hot in here? And why are the breezes so cold under my tail? Somehow, I’m as excited as Sparkle -- and -- and it’s all her fault for being so stupidly cute. I step over her hind legs and straddle her, putting one hoof down beside her head. “All of your whining and moaning has me in a self-gratifying mood, so I think I will punish you some more, but first, tell me something:” I lean down, putting my nose against hers, “A little filly as naughty and desperate as you must have a toy or two, hmm? Something long and thick? Come on, tell Trixie the truth.” When she tries to look away, I hold her muzzle in place. I whip her flank and shout, “Answer me, Sparkle!”
She whines, “I -- I do. But -- it’s upstairs -- in my room -- under my bed.”
“Not a problem,” I say, turning, “Stay right there and keep it hot for me.”
She squeals and thrashes, trying to right herself. “No! No, don’t! I’ll go get it!”
Smiling, I press her down with a spell, then walk up the stairs. As amusing as it is to think about Sparkle hobbling up the stairs and then coming back down with her dildo in her mouth, I don’t have time to waste. Luckily, there’s only one room on this floor. I go inside and, with my horn glowing, root around under the bed. Oh, she really is naughty! Behind a big wooden box, I find a pile of magazines with mares on their covers, tied up with ropes, drooling on ball gags, collared and chained. Behind those, I find it: a black dildo, as long as my cannon and almost as thick. Its ring and flared tip shine dully as I pick it up with my magic.”I foooouuuund it, Sparkle,” I sing as I canter down the stairs, “And it is nice and big.” It wobbles stiffly as I wave it in her direction.”I found your reading materials , too. And there were quite a few. How long have you had this little bondage fetish, Sparkle?”
With each word, her blush grows and grows. Looking away, she whispers, “Not long, but -- my research was very thorough.”
I stand by her head and murmur, “Mmm. If there’s anything else you want to say, now’s your chance.”
“W-what?” She asks, looking up at me with wide eyes.
I just laugh as I step over her. “Too late. Now,” I say as I sit, lowering my rear to her face, “Get to work, my little pony. If you want this ,” I thump the toy against her stomach to give the proper emphasis, “You’re going to have to earn it.”
She doesn’t hesitate. Her horn digs into the back of my flank as she thrusts her muzzle against me and starts licking. Her tongue, soft and rough and insistent, draws shivers down my spine. Just as nice are the sounds, embarrassingly, deliciously loud in the silence of the library: the quick intake of breath as she pauses for a second; the hungry little moans she makes with each stroke; the quiet slurps as she changes direction. Just as I start moving my flanks in time with her tongue, she changes the rhythm, pushes the tip of her tongue inside me and starts circling, straining against one lip, then the other. A tingling heat bubbles up through my core, frothing over into my flanks, boiling up into my head. A moan escapes my throat, borne on an ecstatic, determined updraft. “Aaahmmm -- keep it up, little Sparkle,” I say, whipping one flank, then the other, pausing a second to let her squeals echo up my body, “and I may just reward you.”
I put the toy between her legs, gently pushing against her lips, nudging her open. She doesn’t miss a beat; Her tongue keeps going deeper, whirling and wiggling, making me clench and twitch and pant. “Ah -- keep it -- ah -- keep it up, Sparkle. Just like that; just like that.” I’m babbling, inane, stupid, unworthy of my power and majesty. My forelegs collapse, slowly, gently, but inexorably, dumping me on Sparkle’s soft, furry belly. How is she so good at this? How can she so easily reduce the Great and Powerful Trixie to this pitiful wreck? How!?
As I nestle my head into the welcoming crease of her flank, her excitement washes over me. Drowning in that rich, sweet, fiery scent, I feel it: quaking, moaning exuberance, surging through me, forcing my muscles straight, turning my body into a wobbling, kicking wail. The world is warm air, a hot body, thrashing limbs, and a wet fire between my legs. After a moment, far too soon, the fire hesitantly ebbs, licking only fitfully now and again with Sparkle’s tongue.
For a few seconds, I can only pant. After one last swipe, Sparkle quietly asks, “Did I do well, m-mistress?”
It’s a real effort, a swaying, noble, effort, but I manage to stand enough to turn, and then plop back down on top of Sparkle, nose-to-nose, her violet eyes soft inches away from mine. “You did alright,” I say, and press my lips against hers, “You did very, very alright.” I smile and close my eyes. Mistress. My Great but Muddled brain takes a second, but once I get it, I chuckle. “I will graciously accept the title of mistress. And you will be my little Twilight Sparkle.” The words are candy, made even sweeter by their unexpectedness. “My -- little -- Twilight ...” I repeat, rolling the words around on my tongue, caressing them with my lips.
“Your Twilight.” She giggles, her grin wide, her ears tense and quivering with delight. After a second, she pushes her forelegs against me. “So -- am I still going to be rewarded, mistress?”
I throw a field of magic behind us and close it, eventually grabbing the toy from where it landed, cocked on Twilight’s rump. “Of course.” I push the dildo against her lips again. Pinning her with a stare, I fight stagefright worse than anything I ever felt in front of a crowd. “I’m going -- I’m going to f-fuck you so hard you’ll -- you’ll scream my Great and Powerful name to all of Ponyville!” It seems like all I can feel is my heart thumping. Twilight’s cheeks look as red as mine feel.
She snickers, then starts laughing outright. I join her. When she quiets down, she looks into my eyes, kisses me, and moans quietly. “Do it. Please?”
My eyes locked onto hers, I give Twilight an evil smirk. “I like that. Since you’re being such a nice, polite little filly,” I say, slowly invading her, “I will.”
She sighs roughly and puts her hooves against my chest.
I can feel the pressure of Twilight’s inside, smooth and taut, as the toy’s flared tip slips inside of her, wrapped in my magic. As I push deeper, she slides by, tight, but giving way before me. Even as she moans demurely, I can’t focus, or enjoy it. The feeling of Twilight pressing on me -- well, the toy -- is distracting, like some huge, far away buzzing, pressing against the back of my eyes.
I shake my head and snap, “Sparkle!” As her eyes widen, I dip my head, putting my glowing horn to her lips. “Suck it,” I whisper, unable to stop need from coloring my voice.
Her lips brush it, a little tease, as she quietly asks, “W-what? Your horn?”
I groan at her naivete. “It’s called a hornjob; a virgin like you wouldn’t know.” I weave my head, rubbing the tip of my horn against her lips. “It’s one of the many perks of being a great and powerful unicorn like myself -- or you. I’ve even heard some unicorn stallions say it almost rivals having a -- you know.”
“Hmm...” She murmurs. Celestia! Her voice -- rumbling up my horn -- it’s almost enough -- almost. “If the innate magic in a pony’s body interrupts the local side of the aura feedback, the superposition could cause a very powerful sensation, depending on the intensity of the remote feedback. Of course, the stronger the feedback...”
“Sparkle!” I shout, relishing the squeal that shivers up my horn as I thrust the toy deeper inside her, “Less talking, more sucking!”
Her mouth isn’t as quick to start on my horn as it was on my marehood, but after a few seconds, her lips close on it and her tongue creeps along its underside. A cold, sharp quiver trickles down its length, dripping on my brow, tickling my cheeks, making my muzzle tingle, turning my scalp and the back of my neck into one continuous frisson. The buzzing friction of Twilight’s inside becomes a tide, locked to the motion of my thrusts, flowing in bright, shuddering waves from my horn, down my neck, into my withers and back.
“Yes -- that’s much better,” I whisper, “and don’t you feel privileged to humble yourself at the source of Trixie’s magnificent magical might?”
I punctuate the question by pulling the toy back, and stabbing it in until it hits her deepest parts. She gasps, her whole body bucking under me, her lips squeezing my horn. I chuckle and settle into a rhythm, steadily filling her, letting the tide slowly ebb and flow.
“You like this, don’t you, Twilight?” I murmur, before nibbling her throat, “Letting someone as majestic and awe-inspiring as Trixie have her way with you? You like being tied up and ridden and having my horn in your mouth.” I giggle and nip her again when I feel her clench around the toy. “No need for words; a simple moan will do.”
Moan she does, right into my horn, and squeezes me with her flanks. I pick up the pace, pounding her. Each thrust forces a gratifying little sigh from her. Specks of light fill my vision, like tiny stars, sparkling brighter with every stab. Blinking away the fluff forming in my forehead, I say, “Don’t be shy; Trixie wants to hear her glorious fanfare.”
As her sighs turn to whimpers, I pull my horn from her lips. “So, Twilight -- who’s the greatest unicorn to have ever graced Equestria?”
Her reply is a brilliant swell, the crowd’s pleading wail. “You are, Trixie!”
“And the most powerful?”
“Trixie is!”
I stretch my neck and put my mouth next to her ear. “And the sexiest ? Let all of Ponyville know, Twilight; make it loud!”
“Trixie is!” She screams, her back arching, her flanks extending then clamping onto mine, her forehooves digging into my belly. Her voice is the piercing call of an ecstatic fair barker, unable to but exclaim my grandeur ! “The Great -- nnnaaaagh -- and Powerful -- Trixie!”
Twilight saying those words, in that helpless wail, does more for me than anything else she’s done tonight. As I push the toy inside her one last time, stinging light fills my eyes; a treacherous warmth floods my horn and slowly rolls down my muscles, turning me to jelly. The light clears, and Twilight’s face fills my view, her eyes closed, her lips slightly apart. I shudder again as Twilight and the library are suddenly cast in a noisy red pop. I shudder again, this time followed by blue, then green, then purple, then red again.
Finally, my horn stops shivering, letting me laze on top of Twilight in the sudden silence, surrounded by a twinkling snow of white cinders. I close my eyes and let out a breath.
Twilight laughs. I open one eye and mumble, with all my strength, “What?”
She smiles at me, eyes wide open. “Fireworks! Those were fireworks! Do you always shoot off fireworks when you get a -- a h-hornjob? Is that a common response?”
I close my eyes. My cheeks heat up. I swear that’s never happened before, and I certainly didn’t mean for it to happen this time. “N-no, not usually. T-Trixie put on this performance especially for her most important fan.”
She giggles again. “You were really cute -- when you were doing it. Your face -- sort of -- compressed each time -- like you were deep in concentration.”
I lift my head and grin. “I only put on -- the finest...” I sigh and lay my head on Twilight’s throat. “Ugghh. No. Just -- just bask in it, Twilight. The Content and Exhausted Trixie demands it.”
“Um, Trixie? Could you untie me? And -- and take the toy out?”
I sigh again. She’s so demanding. I roll off of her and shuffle onto my legs. I light my horn to unknot the cloak around her legs and pain shoots down it. A cry slips out of me as I let go of my magic. The pain dies down to a dull throb.
“Trixie!” I feel Twilight’s hooves on my chest and her muzzle against mine. “Are you okay? I tried to tell you something like this might happen.”
I rub my forehead, angry that I should be so painfully betrayed by my own horn. “What do you mean?”
“Earlier, I was saying, before you interrupted me, that too much feedback could damage your ability to do magic.”
Damage -- my magic? “What... But -- this never happened before. I -- I need my magic.” My stomach is a pit. I can feel my eyes getting warmer. “Is -- is there any way to f-fix it?”
She kisses my nose. “Don’t worry, it’s just temporary. Right now, your magical system is too sensitive to handle the energy you’d need to do anything, even simple telekinesis. You should be back to normal in the morning.”
I bite my lip as a few tears escape my eyes. “G-good. I can’t bear to imagine how sad the world would be without the Great and Powerful Trixie. Here.” I shuffle over to her and bite a corner of the cloak that sticks out of the knot. With one pull, Twilight’s legs are free. "I-it's a good thing I learned to do knots without magic."
She giggles as she flexes and kicks her forelegs. “Like an earth pony? You’re just full of surprises. Maybe you can get under my tail next time.”
I sniff, then put on a little smile. Reaching a hoof, I pry the ring from her horn. “Are you looking for an encore, Twilight Sparkle?”
“I might be,” she says as her horn lights up. After a second, she sighs and her horn dims. “That’s better.”
I close my eyes and direct my face to the ceiling. I have to take a deep breath and blow it out slowly before asking, “Does -- does that mean this is more than a one-time thing?”
“Of course, silly!” She puts a foreleg over my barrel and pulls me into a gentle embrace. “I -- I’m interested in more than just this; I want more than sex. I told you I wanted to be your friend, and I meant it. Well?” She gives me a quiet, confident smile. It’s like a stage light, casting its dim light and hazy warmth on me.
For a second, I can’t say anything; maybe it’s the aftershock of that awesome hornjob, maybe it’s the scare with my magic, or maybe it’s the amazing mare holding me. I don’t know why, but I can’t hold my voice steady and, just when I thought I was done, a few more tears spill from my eyes. “I’m -- I’m not used to having friends. Are you sure -- I mean, after everything I did?”
“Everything you did -- well, everypony gets lost sometimes and needs a friend to guide them home.” She nestles her head into the crook of my neck. The little furnace puffs of her breath on my coat and the easy pressure of her muzzle feel wonderful. “Can I be that friend for you?”
“A friend, huh?” I put my forelegs around her neck and gently squeeze. “I guess I wouldn’t mind that.” I squeeze tighter and nuzzle her forehead. “ Actually, I’d really, really like that. The Great and Powerful Trixie and the Extraordinary Twilight Sparkle, lovers.” I kiss her forehead, letting my lips linger as long as they want. “And friends.”
She giggles and snuggles closer. “Lovers and friends.”
“So,” I start, with just a hint of worry, “How did I compare to those fantasies? Which, by the way, you still haven’t told me about.”
She holds me closer. “They were no match for the Great and Powerful Trixie. Nothing I fantasized about was ever so fun, or so sweet.”
Fun. Sweet. The words are like a blanket, warm and fuzzy and comforting. “Well, do you want to move to your bed?”
She laughs. “I don’t think I can walk that far; you were pretty rough. But -- I installed a lock on the door, once I started on this endeavor.” She lights her horn and I hear a click from the front of the room.
“Ah. I guess it wouldn’t do for Spike to see you like this.” I can’t help letting a big yawn out. “Well, Trixie has slept on harder surfaces,” I say. With a hoof, I shake my cloak out and pull it over us. “Good night, my little Twilight Sparkle.”
She giggles and kisses my neck. “Good night, my Dear and Beloved Trixie.”
As I lay there, Twilight gently stroking my chest, the ache in my horn starts spreading behind my eyes and into my cheeks, replacing the lovely tingling from before. I just wish it would stop, but in lieu of that, I’ll take nuzzling the softness of Twilight’s forelock with a pained groan. “This stupid horn,” I can't help whispering.
“Oh,” Twilight says, brushing my cheek, “Is it bothering you, sweetie? You know, I could take your mind off of it.” She giggles, then runs a hoof over my teats. The resulting quiver does distract me, but only for a second. “Maybe it would help you sleep.”
After a second, I get my aching foreleg to grudgingly intercede. “I’m tired, not horny, Twilight.” I shiver as I manage to replace her touch with my own. After a second looking down at her grin, I can’t take it any more. “W-well -- maybe one more time.”
I dare another look as she presses against me; her grin is even wider. “That’s more like it.” With a tinkling of her horn, I feel something broad press against my flanks. “Just relax; I’ll be gentle.”
Somehow, it seems like it's going to be a long night.
For a few minutes now, the patch of sky framed by the window has been getting brighter, purple steadily giving way to cerulean, then a grey cyan, then taking on a color that can only be described as bright as the sun peeks over the sill. Except for the impending threat of being blinded, I wouldn’t even take notice of it. I have something much more important to watch: Twilight’s side, rising and falling slowly; a few locks of her mane draped over her neck, including the better part of her rose stripe; her ear twitching every so often in the most distracting way. For a moment, I can feel a ray of sunlight warmly caressing my ear. When the sun finally makes its way down my forehead and shines directly in my eyes, I give Twilight a squeeze as I shove my head into her pillow, letting her mane fall onto my face to protect me from the vicious light.
Twilight lifts her head and starts turning over. “Muh -- Trixie?”
I press down on her and muster my most pitiful voice. “Noooo -- don’t turn around; just stay there.”
A little laugh shakes its way out of her as she puts her hoof on mine. “You can’t be feeling shy, especially after last night. I thought you wanted to hear all of my dirty little fantasies!”
I push my face deeper into her mane and point at the window. “No, I just need you to protect me from that evil sun. Please?”
She gingerly lifts my foreleg and, against my protests, turns over. The sun flashes in my eyes for a second, and then she pulls my head into the crook of her neck, resting her jaw on my horn. “There, now it can’t get you; better?”
For her trouble, I give Twilight a nuzzle and an appreciative groan. It’s the least I can do.
As I close my eyes and breathe in her scent, she brings out her come-hither voice again. In our short time together, she’s gotten a lot better at it: I don’t laugh any more; instead, I feel the sudden urge to rub my flanks together and find somewhere private. Well, she has been learning from the best. “So, where did we leave off last night? If I recall correctly, you were threatening to tickle my last, biggest fantasy out of me. Want to keep going?”
This time, the groan isn’t quite as positive. “Can we just skip the tickling? The Great and Powerful Trixie woke up early to watch you sleep, and now she needs some beauty sleep of her own.”
“That’s both adorable and kind of creepy. But...” She trails off and inches her head back. “Well, I stayed up late to watch you sleeping, so -- I guess we’re even on that.”
A smile forces its way onto my lips. “Then am I as beautiful by moonlight as you are by daylight?”
She presses against me. “Much more, I’m sure. I’m always such a mess when I wake up.”
I can’t let Twilight think that, even if it is a little true. What can I do but grunt softly and press my lips against her throat for a little kissing and murmuring? “Impossible! You’ve been granted the honor of sleeping beside the Great and Powerful Trixie. Anypony with that level of prestige must be beautiful, even first thing in the morning.”
“So I have to be beautiful for you?”
What!? I wiggle my horn out from under Twilight and look up at her, my cheeks and eyes tight with panic. “No! That’s not what I meant! I just meant that you’re...”
“Shh” Twilight whispers as she kisses my muzzle. “I know what you meant. I was just playing.”
Hmph. I lower my head, turn away from her, and cross my forelegs. Twilight will know my displeasure. “Well it wasn’t funny.”
Her breath hits my ear before her low, certain voice. “Have I been a bad pony?”
I close my eyes and smile. “Clever, but Trixie is not so easily baited. I’ve been drawing crowds since before I spoke my first words. I know about getting a reaction out of a pony.”
Her lips get closer, making my ear hot and wet and slightly uncomfortable. “What if I say that, in the moonlight, your mane is like a river of the softest, smoothest silver? What if I say that the only reason I didn’t kiss you while you were sleeping you was because you were so perfectly adorable? What if I say that I know every ridge of your horn, the curvature of your chest, the swell of your flanks, the way your tail falls, delicately veiling your --”
With every word, my cheeks get hotter and hotter. Finally, I have to roll over and press a hoof against Twilight’s lips. “T-Twilight! While all of Trixie’s fantastic and awe-inspiring features are undoubtedly worthy of admiration, do you,” I cough and pause for a second. What am I thinking, protesting such well-deserved praise of my obvious beauty? “I mean, I didn’t think you’d be one to put it so -- poetically -- not that I mind. Have you been reading Lord Byrein or something?”
“No. I tried once, but he was so flowery.” She grins and sticks her tongue out for a second, then the small, quiet smile I’ve come to love takes her face over again. She rests her forehead against mine and whispers, “Maybe I just couldn’t understand it until I felt it myself. Also,” she hesitates and drapes a foreleg over me, “I’m sorry about being so pushy, it’s just -- after doing so much with you, telling you about my fantasies, just thinking about telling you my last one makes me so -- hot. I want you, and knowing that you want me, want to know about that part of me...” She shivers against me with a little coo. “Do you know what I mean? How good it feels to feel wanted like that?”
How good it feels to feel wanted like that. The words make my heart flutter. My breath catches before I can say, “Yes, Trixie knows it: the glory of the stage; the fascination of the crowd; being the center of everypony’s world.” I give Twilight a pointed look and kiss her cheek. “Being the center of one very special pony’s world.”
Twilight sighs, her closed eyes and drooping lips disappointing and tired. After a second, she smiles and wiggles down to rest her head on my chest. “That too, but I meant... If I told Fluttershy some of the things I wanted you to do, she’d probably faint. Rarity and Rainbow and Applejack would think I was crazy. Pinkie Pie -- I don’t even know what Pinkie would think.” She sighs again and runs a hoof along my belly at a deliciously slow pace. “But you -- you listen to my crazy fantasies, and you don’t even do it to be nice or friendly, you want to hear them -- you want to be a part of them! You want to get into the deepest parts of me -- the things I wouldn’t show anypony -- and I love that.”
I stroke Twilight’s mane and murmur, “Only an ignorant foal wouldn’t want that. I mean, isn’t that what this kind of relationship is about? Being the audience at another pony’s personal stage? Seeing how all of their inner workings play out? And with you, who wouldn’t want to?”
She giggles and gently jabs my chest. “Hey, my friends aren’t ignorant -- at least, not that ignorant!” With a grin, she locks her eyes to mine, playful defensiveness draining away to let something more tender in. “It has to be more than that,” she whispers, putting her lips to my coat, “I mean, if this is a play, then we both have leading roles. In fact,” she starts, looking up at me with accusing eyes,”You haven’t told me about what you want.” She starts kissing my belly, wriggling lower and lower. “Tell me, Trixie. Come on, tell Twilight your darkest fantasies.”
I smile down at her. “Looking for a little role-reversal, Sparkle?”
“No, but I do want to hear about your inner thoughts, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.” With a little grin, Twilight puts a hoof on the inside of my flank and pushes gently.
I give in and roll onto my back, exposing myself to her; at this point, I don’t think I’ll be getting back to sleep any time soon. “Just be gentle; Trixie doesn’t feel like getting wild right now.”
Twilight hops off the foot of the bed and then jumps back up, putting her forelegs between my thighs. It’s too early for her to be so energetic. “Don’t worry, I’ll take it nice and slow; I want to savor this.” She moves her muzzle forward slowly, putting her lips to my marehood, audibly sniffing it. “So, how do I get you wet? Tell me what gets you going.”
Twilight sniffing me makes me look away and blush and tense my thighs a little. For some reason, I feel more like hiding my face in my forelegs than talking dirty to her. I guess I don’t feel like putting on a show right now. Maybe I should try a little humor? “Well -- Trixie has always dreamed of sleeping with herself; after all, Trixie is the sexiest pony in all of Equestria. Two of me, getting all hot and sweaty together -- imagine how amazing that would be!”
I hear the quiet tinkle of Twilight’s magic for a second, then silence for a second before feeling her kiss my sex. Once she starts talking though -- at least, I hope it’s her -- my body tightens and I have to throw my head up to look at her. Twilight is staring between my flanks, the same purple coat, the same indigo and rose mane, but a different voice coming from her lips: mine. “Hmm -- Trixie truly is the most beautiful mare in all of Equestria! Just look at this perfect flower, this soft, supple rear. I almost envy the ponies who’ve -- Trixie!” Her eyes bat up for a second, then she raises her face to look at mine before looking to one side, agitated. “The illusion doesn’t work if you look at me! I can’t change how I look!”
It’s actually pretty impressive -- and kind of kinky, but -- it’s a little unsettling. “But -- what about your voice!? Why do you sound like me? I’ve never heard of a spell like that.”
Twilight grins and puffs her chest out. “That’s because I created it! I was actually putting the finishing touches on it when you first came to Ponyville.”
Celestia, that’s too creepy! The words and the rhythm and the emphasis are Twilight’s, but the voice is mine. I look away as I ask, “Well -- could you stop it? It’s kind of weird, hearing -- seeing? -- my voice come out of your mouth.” I look back at her and try an encouraging smile. “Sorry. I know you were doing it for me, but it’s just -- kind of creepy. Also -- that wasn’t really a fantasy I’ve had before, either. I just thought it sounded kind of hot, though I’m not so sure now.”
Twilight lights her horn for a second and her voice is back to normal when she nuzzles my thigh and says, “It’s okay; Spike said the same thing when I was practicing it -- about it being creepy, not the fantasy thing.” She giggles. “That was actually one of the best ways to get him to do his chores if he was feeling lazy. Hearing a little ‘Oh, I hope Twilight doesn’t find me over here slacking off,’ in his own voice would get him going.” She sighs. “It’s a shame he made me agree stop using it.”
“Well, I can understand. Even Trixie’s beautiful and mellifluous voice should only come from one place: here.” I point at my lips.
Twilight flashes a wide grin. “I agree! Well, until you tell me about a real fantasy, I think I’ll just go exploring.” As I watch, she dips her head between my flanks and starts nibbling a teat. She squeezes my nipple hard with her lips, sending a spasm up my leg and a billowing warmth through my belly. After she’s done running her teeth along the mound and pulling so, so softly and insistently, I’m like a dog in the throes of a belly-scratching. I whine when she stops and looks up at me with an smug grin. “Oh ho! Have I found Trixie’s weak spot?”
A leg-twitching moan holds me for a second before I can reply. “I don’t -- Trixie has no weak spots; some pleasure centers are just stronger than others! Besides -- most ponies don’t focus on my teats.”
“I don’t know why,” Twilight says, nuzzling the small rises between my flanks, “They’re so cute.” She presses her lips into the one she ignored earlier. “And soft.” A warm shock hits my skin as Twilight opens her lips and nips the mound, sending a pulse of pain and pleasure up though my hips. As the twinge settles down, Twilight’s tongue, warm and vaguely rough, starts pressing into it, circling the nipple, then running from the peak to the base. My leg twitches in time, and as she keeps licking it, I can’t help but buck a little. She stops and looks up with a deliberate slurp. “And tasty. How is it?”
I can only look at her self-satisfied grin for a few seconds before I have to look away. It’s hard to answer with my breathing all disrupted. “What -- what do you think -- Twilight?”
I can hear the smugness in her voice. “I think that this won’t take you all the way.”
After a second, my cheeks heat up as I realize what she means. “You wouldn’t!”
“I would! You aren’t going to come until you tell me something juicy.” She bites me again softly, forcing a little moan. “You’d better hurry.”
With the waves of pain and pleasure shimmying up my body, making me waste all my breath on moaning, keeping my mind in constant a boiling upheaval, I can’t think. Fantasies? I’ve always -- Celestia, those teeth! She said she’d be gentle -- I’ve always lived out in the open; I don’t keep much inside. There might be one thing. “I’ve -- I’ve always wanted to do it in front of an audience. That’s one thing -- gah! Twilight! Not so hard!”
When she looks up, I give her my best wrathful stare. She comes back with that same smug grin from earlier. After dipping back down for one last, gentle kiss, she says, “That’s so like you! A performer, even in love. So, who would you want to watch us?”
“I don’t know! Although…” I might have an idea, something that Twilight will appreciate. “How about your friends? Rarity and Rainbow and the others?” The way her eyes widen and her face pales is totally worth the suffering I’ve had to endure at her mouth. “What do you think Fluttershy would do if she actually saw us playing out your fantasies? Do you think any of them would get wet? How many fantasies do you think our bold display of unbridled sensuality would inspire? Well, Twilight?”
Now she’s blushing as she stares down at the foot of the bed. “W-well. It would certainly be...”
I chuckle. She’s playing right into my hooves. “I know what you mean, Twilight. All five of them would be overcome, driven to the extremes of lust. My beauty and your enthusiasm would trigger an unparalleled orgy. Why, if any other ponies wandered into the library -- it’d be like a ‘Want-it, Need-it’ spell of sex.”
She giggles with a little grimace and lays her head on my flank, hugging my leg. “I have some experience with that spell. The results were -- unpleasant. That would be even worse.”
I laugh with her. “I know. I tried using it once, when I started performing. It didn’t go well.”
“Oh no!” She’s looking up at me, eyes like plates and mouth wide in a toothy grin. “Princess Celestia had to fix what I did personally; how did you stop it?”
“Simple!” I toss my forelock. “I out-performed it!”
Somehow, her eyes get wider. “But -- that’s impossible! All of Ponyville was fighting over my doll when I cast it!”
The whole town!? Hmph. Mine only affected a crowd of twenty or so. “Maybe that was just your strength -- sweetie. Mine wasn’t quite that powerful, but I was able to distract the crowd with a story. I cast the spell on the gem on my cloak’s clasp. To stop them, I regaled them with the tale of how I stole it from a giant who lived in a volcano.”
Twilight blushes, looks down, and says quietly. “Sweetie?” She looks up and smiles. “Well, it must be some story; do you want to regale me with it?”
“I can later, but for now…” I light my horn and gently pull her head down. “You have some business to take care of."
Without another word, Twilight gets to work. Her tongue slides into the folds of my flower, sending sweet shivers up my spine. When she pushes it inside, a sudden breath becomes a moan. “Now you’re finally -- putting that tongue to good use! Keep going Twilight!” After a moment, something starts tugging on both of my nipples, gently pulsing over my mounds. slowly milking me, despite my feeble protest. The skin on my belly crawls in the best possible way. My legs are quickly becoming waving, wobbling, and totally useless. My breath is galloping and every exhale is a moan.
Twilight doesn’t stop when the door slams downstairs, but my body tenses and I suddenly don't feel like moaning, not that I can quite stop. Twilight’s tongue and the tug of her magic aren’t luxurious waves anymore, but bright, burning distractions.
Twilight still doesn’t stop when Spike cries out, “Twilight! Where are you? Twilight!?”
I can hear another pony’s voice with him, high and reedy. I can barely make out the words over my breathing. “Man, it looks like this place was hit by a hurricane!”
Yet another pony joins them, her voice soft beyond hearing. I manage to make out the last word of her statement: alright.
“Twilight!” I whisper, her continuing ministrations making my voice crack helplessly. When she doesn’t respond, I say louder, “Twilight! Somepony’s downstairs with Spike!”
“Hey, I think I hear something upstairs.” The reedy voice again. The creaking of the bedframe is suddenly no longer just a part of the beautiful things Twilight’s doing to me; it’s a dangerous signal to the ponies downstairs.
Even as the clop of hooves and the patter of Spike’s little claws sound on the stairs outside, Twilight doesn’t stop licking and tugging. Now I’m almost yelling as I back away, “Twilight! Stop! Spike--” As the door starts opening, I light my horn and press against it. Unfortunately, a lick from Twilight and a shove from whoever’s on the other side overcome me and the door slams open.
“Twilight?” The poor little dragon’s voice dies to an uncomprehending whisper, understandably. When I look over, his eyes are fixed on Twilight, his arms are hanging at his sides, limp. Two ponies stand behind him, one with a cyan coat and rainbow mane, the other a yellow coat and pink mane. Thanks to all of Twilight’s chatter, I have little doubt as to who they are.
“S-Spike! Come here, poor baby!” Fluttershy says after a second of silence, rushing forward and pulling Spike onto the stairs, safely out of the room. At least he won’t be here for whatever happens next.
Rainbow Dash takes a step forward, her brows lowered and her jaw slack as she asks, “What. The. Hay?” When she finally realizes what’s happening, her wings fly open to stand behind her like a war banner. She looks back and says quietly, “Fluttershy, take Spike outside.” She turns back to Twilight and me and yells, “Trixie! What the hay did you do to Twilight!? I swear, if you hurt her, I’ll make all that stuff you did with the amulet look like the very definition of love and kindness!”
“It’s not like that!” I shout. As Rainbow Dash takes a step forward, I turn away from the door and clamp my thighs closed. Looking over my withers, first at Twilight, then at Rainbow Dash, I say, “Twilight! Help! Please!?”
As I pull away, Twilight looks up at me, her face empty and confused. When she turns to Rainbow Dash, the look sticks -- for a second. After that, she sucks in a breath and jumps behind the bed, looking like she’s just stepped off of the highest cliff in Equestria. With just her eyes above the level of the sheets, she half-shouts, “Rainbow!? What are you doing in my house!? Can’t you see that I’m kind of -- busy?”
“Busy !?” Rainbow Dash’s eyes narrow and her frown deepens as she glares at me. She turns to Twilight. “What do you mean, busy !? Twilight, what’s up with all this? You aren’t, like, sleeping with this sleaze -- are you ? Like, of your own free will?”
Sleaze!? Moi?
“What? How dare you!” Twilight stands and walks around the bed, her hooves striking the wood floor vindictively. “Trixie’s my marefriend!” For a second, she falters and looks down. When she continues, her voice is a little less forceful. “I know she’s done some bad things in the past -- and that she’s not the most honest or thoughtful pony -- but that doesn’t make her a -- a sleaze!” What? What does that mean? Does she believe in me, or not? Even with how tense the situation is, I’m a little scared of the answer.
Rainbow Dash takes a step forward and folds her wings to her sides. “Twilight…” She says quietly. Her jaw tenses as she looks at me and lets out a breath. She turns back to Twilight, puts a hoof on her shoulder, and whispers, probably thinking she’s avoiding my keen hearing, “Listen, Twilight, I don’t know what’s going on, but getting mixed up with her just can’t be a good idea. I mean, all she does is lie, she only cares about herself, and she hates you, just for being better at magic! She had to have obsessed over you for like two years, just to get that amulet! It has to be some kind of trick; she’s just trying to get close to you so she can stab you in the back!”
Twilight leans forward and puts a foreleg around Rainbow Dash’s neck, pulling her into an embrace. “Listen, Rainbow, I’m glad you’re concerned, but I called her here, and she’s had plenty of chances to hurt me, if she wanted to. Trixie’s a different pony; she’s grown a lot since she was here last, and I want to be there with her as she keeps growing.”
Rainbow Dash steps back, her face twisted into a lemony grimace. “‘She’s grown a lot since she was last here? ’ Twilight, it’s only been like six months since she kicked you out using her cheater magic, put Ponyville in some kind of fishbowl, and made everypony in town her slave! How can you defend her after that!? I mean, how much can a pony really change over a season or two?”
Twilight looks back at me, eyes somewhere between a smile and a glower. “But -- she said she was sorry -- she helped fix everything she did -- she learned from the whole thing with the amulet…”
Rainbow Dash snorts. “I bet she did; she learned she’ll never beat you at magic, even with that stupid amulet, so she found another way: through your heart.”
As heartwarming as Twilight’s attempts at defending me are, they’re feeble and only feeding Rainbow Dash’s doubt; Twilight’s no spokespony and it shows. Still -- that last line. I can’t stop the laughter from getting out of me. Both of them look at me, Rainbow Dash with dull annoyance and Twilight with something like fear. “Hee hee… Sorry, it’s just -- that line’s like something out of a bad drama. Trixie would have expected something cooler from you, Rainbow Dash.”
Rainbow Dash steps forward past Twilight and growls, “Oh yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?”
It’s -- hard. I want to keep going, rile up this stupid, feeble-minded blue pony and put her in her place, but -- I guess her place isn’t that far below mine. Instead of replying, I roll off the bed and walk to Twilight’s side. Rainbow Dash’s eyes follow me the whole way. “I mean that it sounded corny in the most hilarious way, but -- that’s okay. You’re one of Twilight’s friends -- one of her best friends, which means -- you’re a great pony, probably as great as the Great and Powerful Trixie.” Beside me, I hear Twilight take a breath. Rainbow Dash stares without saying anything, eyes narrowed. Her stunned silence gives me the opening I need. “And -- and you’re both right. What I did was horrible, and I do have trouble telling the truth, and thinking of other ponies, but I’ve gotten better.”
I hold Rainbow Dash’s gaze, letting my lips clench and thinking of the time I was playing with my dad’s big, jewel-adorned top hat and tore it, losing a bunch of the gems. I can still remember the way his eyes tightened, the way he sighed before saying it was okay; it wasn’t. We could barely afford to keep the wagon rolling, much less buy a new hat or more gems. It’s just enough to make my eyes water. “I mean -- I’m the same pony; I still need to perform, to look good in front of a crowd, but I don’t humiliate ponies to do it any more; I know how awful that feels. Now, I do light shows, animated stories, amaze them my powers of prestidigitation, I even teach the foals magic tricks. And -- I’m no princess, but I try to make sure my show leaves the places I perform a little better than they were before.” Here, I finally let my flushing cheeks overcome me and look to the floor. A few tears fall. I’m not sure if it’s the memory, or -- how true it all is. “I just want to say that I’m sorry for all the horrible things I did. I hurt you and Twilight and everypony else, and -- there was no reason for it. Getting my revenge -- hurting you ponies -- didn’t make me happier -- not really, but helping the ponies I’ve met has. So -- can you forgive me? Can you give me a chance to prove that I’ve become a better pony?”
Rainbow Dash squints at me and hmms. “I don’t know, you seemed pretty happy at the time. Twilight, do you really buy this? I sure don’t.”
Twilight covers her face with a hoof and shakes her head. “Rainbow! We all make mistakes! That’s how we learn where we’re deficient.”
In response, Rainbow Dash nibbles her lip for a second and mouths, “De-defish -- ent?” Apparently giving up on that the same way she must have on vocabulary, she shakes her head and looks at Twilight. “Well, I don’t! Didn’t? I stand by my friends; I always have and I always will!”
I like the way Twilight rolls her eyes; few things feel as good as having a pony think you’re more right than another pony. “Like you’ve never learned a valuable lesson by making a mistake.”
“Well, yeah.” Rainbow Dash starts, inspecting her hoof with a grin, “I mean, name one time.”
In a wry voice, Twilight says, “The Running of the Leaves.”
Rainbow Dash looks down and scuffs her hoof along the floor. “Well, that’s one, but…”
“Mare-Do-Well,” Twilight cuts in.
“Alright, alright, I get it! Nopony’s perfect.” Rainbow Dash looks at me with a frown. “I’ll forgive you -- but don’t think I trust you. And you ,” She pokes Twilight in the chest, “I want you to keep an eye on her and make sure she isn’t up to anything. I can understand if you like her, I guess, but after what she did, I just can’t trust her. I don’t want you or anypony else getting hurt.”
“Don’t worry Rainbow, everything will be fine. I’ll stick to her like glue.” The warmth and joy in Twilight’s voice -- I envy it. How can she be so happy after all of this? I mean, her -- her friend is trying to pit her to against me , her marefriend, and she’s as chipper as ever.
Rainbow Dash grimaces. “Eww -- Twilight! Watch the wordplay! It’s going to be hard enough to forget you muzzle-deep in this -- er-Trixie’s thighs without you reminding me.” This? This what? I bet she’s glad she realized how bad an idea it would have been to keep going.
Twilight rolls her eyes again. “Well I’m not sorry! You were the one who invaded my house, remember? Why do you think the door was locked? In fact, how did you get in!? ”
Now it’s this stupid blue filly’s turn to look down blushing. “We -- uh, I -- might have kicked the door in.”
“What!?” Twilight is livid, her eyes crunched into dangerous slits, her lips a hard line. She hardly seems like the pony I’ve passed so many wonderful hours with. “The door was there for a reason! The lock was there for a reason! Why in Equestria would you break my door down!?”
Rainbow Dash brings her eyes back up and throws her hooves in the air. “‘Cause nopony’s heard from you in like a week, Twilight, and we were worried about you!”
Twilight’s angry face is snuffed in an instant, leaving only wide eyes and timid lips. “What? A-a week?”
Rainbow Dash keeps on, almost yelling at my Twilight. “Yeah, Spike’s been locked outside and he didn’t know where you were or what was up. He’s been staying with Fluttershy and coming over here every day to try and find out where you were. Since he knew Trixie got in a few nights ago, he got worried, so then he came and got me, and I wasn’t about to let some crazy, jealous showboat hurt my friend, even if it meant I had to force my way in!” She looks down again, her anger doused just as quickly and completely as Twilight’s. “I mean -- I never thought you two would be doing -- this .” After a long, awkward pause that has us all trading little frowns and worried glances, she ventures, “I’ll, uh -- I can help fix it.”
“Alright,” Twilight says, voice like a popped balloon, “Thanks.” She meets my eyes and the need and confusion there… For a second it’s like I’m looking down all the roads I’ve ever travelled, through all the dark, looming pines, across all the soft, endless plains, up all the cold, raw mountains. We’re between here and there and neither of us know where we are, or where we’re going. When she turns back to Rainbow Dash, the feeling disappears, knocking my head off balance. “I -- I didn’t realize… I didn’t think about it. I’ve been having so much fun with Trixie, I just didn’t… I’m sorry Rainbow. Was everyone else worried too?”
Rainbow Dash drags her hoof across the floor again. “Well, everypony’s been pretty busy, and you do kind of hole yourself up in here sometimes, but after Spike told us about Trixie, yeah, definitely.”
Finally, a little color creeps into Twilight’s voice as she quietly asks, “After?” She sighs and looks from Rainbow Dash to me. She lets out the fakest laugh I’ve ever heard and gives me a nervous smile. “Well -- it’s not like we can just stay in here forever. Why don’t we head over to Sugarcube Corner and see who’s around? Huh, girls?”
In contrast, Rainbow Dash seems to regain her poise, or what passes for it, almost immediately. “Yeah! I could go for some cake, y’know, after all that action.”
Twilight gives Rainbow Dash a wan smile. “Heh, yeah. Would -- would you mind waiting outside for a second, Rainbow? I’d like to talk to Trixie alone.”
Rainbow Dash stares at Twilight for a second, then slowly turns away, her wingtips slanting up, away from her flanks. She’s a little quieter when she speaks into the library downstairs, “Sure, Twi -- just don’t take too long, alright? I’ll be waiting.”
As I listen to the clop of Rainbow Dash’s hooves recede down the stairs, Twilight steps over to me and puts a hoof on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Suddenly, my legs are shaking -- at least, I think it’s suddenly. The way she’s looking at me makes it hard to think. Her eyes are so strong and relaxed, her smile so soft, that I could just fall into her. It’s like I’m a little filly standing on her doorstep, soaking wet from the rain. I can barely speak. “O-of course. Why wouldn’t I be -- okay? Whatever would you think is wrong with Trixie?”
Twilight steps forward and hooks a foreleg around my neck and pulls me into her, my chest against hers. I swear I can feel her heart in her throat, like a nervous little bird. “It’s just -- Rainbow wasn’t exactly kind. I mean, it’s not really her thing, but still -- she was so mean. You’re not a sleaze, Trixie, and you’ve made up for what you did.” She pulls me closer and nuzzles my ear and whispers. “Trust me. You’re a good pony, a Grrr eat and Powerful one, even.” That little roll on the r -- I barely manage to choke back a sob.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I step back. “Twilight -- can I have a second alone? You know, to make sure I’m ready.”
“Ready for what? We’re just going to Sugarcube Corner.”
I just can’t look at that smiling face. I need to get away for a minute, just practice a few tricks to calm my nerves. “Ready for whoever might be there; for -- for your friends.”
Twilight gives me a little kiss on the nose. “Don’t worry; I’ll be right there with you. Just give them a little time -- once they see that you’ve changed -- once they get to know you, we can all be friends.”
“It’s not that, I just -- I need a minute to pull myself together; I can’t let your friends see me like this.”
Twilight flashes a grin. It’s like -- is she trying to mock me? It can’t be; Twilight wouldn’t do that. “What do you mean? You look great, as usual. If anything, I’m the one who needs a minute to brush out my mane.”
For a second, all I can do is stare at her. I don’t need to brush my mane! I need to make sure I’m not going to snap at all of her idiot friends and -- and just make things worse. Her grin sours when I look down, face quivering, silent for a few seconds. I manage to look up and get my mouth working just as she starts opening hers. “Twilight -- it’s not that! It’s just -- I’m -- I’m afraid.”
This time, she doesn’t grin. Quietly, she asks, “What of?”
“I’m afraid that…” I have to pause and push out a deliberate breath. “I’m afraid that I’ll --
“Hey, Twilight!” Rainbow Dash calls from downstairs, “What’s taking so long? Do I need to come back up there?”
Twilight rubs her face with a hoof. “Ugh. She’s so impatient.” She turns to the door and shouts, “We’ll be down in just a minute Rainbow!”
As Twilight turns away, I just keep mouthing I’ll I’ll I’ll I’ll … I can’t help it. I let my head droop. What was I thinking, telling Twilight I’m afraid of her friends!? That’s impossible. The Great and Powerful Trixie can’t be afraid of something like meeting her marefriend’s friends -- even if they do hate her -- with reason -- and want to keep her away from Twilight -- and probably Ponyville -- forever.
“Trixie!” My head snaps back up to find Twilight staring at me, frowning.
I mumble, “W-what?”
That little smile again. Celestia, I love that! “I just asked what you were saying; what you were -- afraid of.”
“Well…” I can’t look at her. “Trixie said afraid, but she really just meant nervous. I mean, why would someone as charming as Trixie be afraid of meeting anypony, especially with a pony like you to back her up? That would be like being afraid to go out on stage.”
“Are you sure? I can understand some trepidation, given everything that -- happened.”
I give her my winningest grin. “Yes, Trixie is sure. Now, we can head to Sugarcube Corner and you can get me some cupcakes to make up for not taking me all the way.”
With a matching grin, Twilight punches my shoulder. “That’s not fair! We were interrupted! And besides, you barely told me anything.”
“Au contraire ,” I murmur as I slowly spin around, holding Twilight’s gaze over my withers. “Sometimes what you hide,” I leave a little pause and, for just a second, flick my tail up and spread my hind legs, presenting myself to Twilight. As I turn back to her, I finish, “Is just as important as what you show. When we get there, just look at Rarity, or Pinkie Pie, or Rainbow Dash and think of them watching us -- imagine the look on their faces as you put your mouth under my tail and make me moan and quiver.” Twilight’s blush is the best; maybe I can get her to feed those cupcakes to me. Err… Though, looking behind Twilight…
“Trixie!” Rainbow Dash shouts from the doorway, “Come on! I don’t need you flashing me! I just want to go to Sugarcube Corner and try to forget the things I’ve seen today.”
Twilight squeaks and spins around, her tail clamped between her legs. I think my own tail is doing the same.
Rainbow Dash grins as she turns to the stairs. “Come on, you horndogs, I’m not going to leave you two alone in here again! And Twilight,” her voice drops to a bare minimum of mirth, “You need to apologize to Spike. and -- and talk to him about all this. You’re supposed to take care of him! He counts on you and you need to be there for him, understand?”
Twilight looks back at me with an apprehensive smirk before filing out behind Rainbow Dash, quietly saying, “You’re right, Rainbow. What -- what do I say? Do you think I have time to read something? Maybe just a pamphlet?” Well, I guess I’d better follow.
“No. Maybe. I don’t know! Just tell him that you like Trixie or whatever and that, you know, she might be around, and you girls might need some alone time, whatever that might mean to him.”
“But -- but -- should a baby dragon know about something like that? I mean, he’s so small and young and innocent… What will that do to him? I need a dragon parenting book! When would a dragon teach her child about that kind of thing? What if he hates me? What if he gets jealous and grows into some kind of giant dragon and tries to hurt Trixie? What if --
Rainbow Dash stops and puts a hoof over Twilight’s mouth. “I don’t know, Twi, but give him a little credit. I bet he’ll understand; after all, he’s got a thing for Rarity, right? If he got with her, you wouldn’t be mad, right?”
“Of course not! Well, once he was a little older, that is. It would be kind of weird, with him being so much younger, not to mention a completely different species, but if they both wanted it -- I would be happy for him.”
“Yeah! So -- I mean -- I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Without saying anything, Rainbow Dash starts out again, and with Twilight and I following.
As we cross the library in another awkward silence, I can hear Fluttershy talking outside. It may be kind of weird, but I actually find myself kind of liking her soft, quiet voice. “And I think that’s it,” she says with a little quaver, “D-do you have any questions?”
“No -- I guess that makes sense.” Spike says, his goofy voice a bit more subdued than usual.
As the three of us walk out the front door into the bright Ponyville morning, Fluttershy and Spike turn to face us. Fluttershy smiles nervously and blushes as her gaze roams among us. Spike looks at Twilight, then at me, then back at Twilight, then to the ground a few feet in front of us. “Oh, Spike!” Twilight says as she rushes to throw her forelegs around Spike’s neck, “I’m so sorry! I never meant to lock you out, I just got a little -- preoccupied. I’m so sorry; I’ve failed you as a caretaker, and a parent, and a friend, but I promise I won’t do it again! I’ll put you at the top of every checklist! I -- I love you, Spike. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course, Twilight.” Spike almost blubbers out as he returns the hug; it’s actually kind of adorable, in a childish way. “I mean -- I was more worried about you! I thought Trixie had done something to you…” He clears his throat and brushes one of his little shoulders off. “But -- y-yeah, don’t worry; we’re cool.” As he pulls back, he stares into Twilight’s face, then his eyes flick to me and back to the ground. “So, uh, I heard you and Trixie are together and -- like, getting intimate ? Is she going to be living with us?”
“G-getting intimate?” Twilight sputters. She looks at me, her eyes bulging and cheeks pink. I shake my head; I guess even the inimitable Twilight Sparkle can be wrong about some things. A hint of anxiety colors her voice. “You heard ? From whom?” Spike doesn’t say anything, but his eyes betray him as he looks to Fluttershy with a little grimace. Twilight follows his gaze and frowns at Fluttershy and sighs. “Well, I wanted to be the one to tell you, but if you and Fluttershy had a talk -- that’s fine. We can talk about it later,” she says with a rigid, almost creepy smile, first facing Fluttershy, then turning to Spike. She stands and turns back to Rainbow Dash and I. “Well,” she starts, encompassing us as well as Spike and Fluttershy with a sweep of the hoof, “Shall we head over to Sugarcube Corner?”
“Yeah! Come on!” Rainbow Dash jumps into the air and does some kind of flying trick, turning above us in a tight circle with a little roll. It’s not too bad; in fact, it’s almost cool. “So,” she says, looking at Twilight and slowly flapping backwards, “So, Is Trixie going to start living with you?” What!? Does she think Twilight owns me or something?
“We -- haven’t talked about the future yet. We’ve been busy with other things.” Twilight says with an admirable amount of mischief. She looks over at me with that little smile. “Well, would you consider settling down here, Trixie? I know that I would enjoy having you around.” She looks at the other two ponies. “What about you girls?”
Rainbow Dash turns away and shrugs, her forelegs crossed under her chest. “Eh, whatever.” What a harpy! It’s like she just can’t be nice. How is she Twilight’s friend!?
Fluttershy smiles at me before hiding her face behind her forelock. She raises a hoof and paws the air, almost like she’s beckoning me. In her quiet, halting voice, she says, “Well, wouldn’t it be -- nice -- to have a showpony in town? I-I mean -- I didn’t see your show, but I’ve heard it’s -- nice. And -- and if Twilight enjoys being with you, then -- I mean -- I think it would be a good thing -- as-as long as you don’t do anything to make me wear the dangerous mission outfit again...” Her voice tapers off; it’s like she’s scared of her own opinion. Dangerous mission outfit? Even with her weird mannerisms and her inability to assert herself and this -- dangerous mission outfit thing, she is a little charming. I wouldn’t mind having her as a fan.
“Hey, what am I, chopped liver!?” Everypony else turns with me when Spike cries out. “I have feelings about this too, y’know!”
Twilight grimaces, then smiles at Spike. Ugh. Having to take care of someone, especially a child; I feel for her. “I’m sorry, Spike. I want you to know that, despite my desire for Trixie to live with us, if you don’t feel comfortable with it, then she won’t; isn’t that right, Trixie?”
Hmph. Trixie has enough dignity that she would take the road over begging someone to take her in. “Of course not! If Trixie isn’t wanted, she doesn’t stay. After all, she has all Equestria at her hooves.”
Twilight gives me a little laugh and an excited smile. “So, what are your feelings on it, Spike?”
Apparently he’s following Rainbow Dash’s lead, crossing his arms and blowing his lips and putting on a snide tone. “I don’t know , Twilight. I’m not sure. I might not feel comfortable with her around. I mean, think about what happened the last time she was here, and -- and even just the past few days.”
“I know you’re uneasy about it, but at least give Trixie a chance. Please, Spike? She’s changed.” When the pesky little dragon mumbles a half-hearted agreement, Twilight spins around and stomp a hoof on the ground. “Alright, let’s head to Sugarcube Corner, everypony!”
“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash whoops, “Enough standing around! At least walk while you’re talking!”
Walking behind everypony else, I have some time to think. I guess I’m going to be staying here, at least for a little while, which isn’t too bad, and I guess I’m going to be seeing a lot more of Twilight’s friends, which I can handle, but I also guess I’m going to hear a lot more of that , which I’m already getting sick of, even from Twilight. She’s changed. From what? A Great and Powerful showpony into -- a nobody? Twilight Sparkle’s little pet? A whipping pony for all of these backwards Ponyville hayseeds? All I can do is sigh; at least there are cupcakes.
“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.”
“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.
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-hither ing 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.
