The Sun and the Moon

by Brony_Fife

Rating: teen
Tags: Sex, Sunset Shimmer, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Trixie
Length: 8630

Trixie tries to cast a spell, but everything goes wrong... in all the right ways.

Sunset Shimmer is training the Great and Powerful Trixie in an attempt to make her Greater and Powerfuller. When Trixie attempts a shapeshifting spell, she ends up casting it wrong...

...but she can't deny that the end results are gorgeous.

Published 2014-01-13 19:40:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-15 18:09:07 UTC

Moon Follows Sun

“Ugh! Not again!”

Trixie growled as the orange returned to being an apple. No matter what she did, it seemed that stubborn little apple would assert its anti-citrus form. She’d tried the same formula Sunset Shimmer had shown her, demonstrated for her—and when it didn’t work, Trixie had tried layering it with other, related spells in the hopes of making the spell last longer or just generally be more effective.

Yet, nothing. The apple would not yield.

Trixie knocked on the apple. “Why won’t you become an orange?!” she demanded. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is the spellcaster. You are the spellcastee. YOU. WILL. O. BEY.”

Her lungs filled up then let out, removing the growing frustration and anger that was bubbling inside her. Deep breaths, Trixie, deeeeeeeep breaths. Trixie looked to the books on her table—the ones Sunset had recommended she borrow from the library—and moved one over to her with only a thought.

She held the book in mid-air, flipping it open to the shape-changing section. There had to be something she was missing. Something that she couldn’t go to Sunset Shimmer for—knowing her, she’d probably laugh her ass off first. “The Great and Powerful Trixie having trouble with simple fruit?” she’d scoff. “Maybe you should try eating the damn thing! At least then, you could change its shape from apple to turd.”

No doubt, Sunset was the best magic mentor Trixie could ask for, but at the same time, she was so tough on her student that Trixie often entertained the thought of just kicking her out of her travel wagon. Still, there was much Trixie could learn from Celestia’s talented former student, and she got the odd feeling they both needed the company anyway.

Imagine how much better Trixie's show would be if she could actually live up to her title! Crowds would gather by the millions! Millions watching the Great and Powerful Trixie perform live and on stage, transforming a fearsome tiger into a docile kitten! Setting herself on fire with no ill side-effects! And for a finisher, she’d vanish in a puff of smoke—instead of faking it like she always did, it’d be bona fide teleportation.

But before any improvement could be made on her act, Trixie would have to improve on her magic. She waved her hypothetical future farewell for now and returned to her study.

The book claimed that to transform objects, one must imagine the desired end result as vividly as they can. A little bit under the text, in smaller font, revealed that visual cues helped.

Visual cues.

Trixie put the book down and looked at the apple, pressing a hoof against her lips. Visual cues, for an orange… maybe if she placed the apple on an orange-colored towel, it’d help her focus.

She placed the book back on her desk and exited her wagon. The warm weather slunk all about her like a nice thick coat as a cool wind brushed playfully at the grass around her hooves. The sun beamed down from above, with cicadas singing their ballads from the nearby trees. From here, Trixie could see Canterlot’s tall and phallic spires climbing towards the sky.

Trixie blinked. Did she really just think of Canterlot’s towers in Freudian terms? She let out a small sigh, her train of thought careening towards a self-deprecating direction. How long had it been since she’d had sex?

She thought about it more and more, not really wanting her train of thought to go there, but it chugged along until it arrived at its destination. As of two weeks ago, it had been three years. Another sigh slid out her nose, this one cold and lonely. Had it really been that long?

Travel was fun, and one of the best parts of it was meeting new ponies. There were quite a few stallions who captivated her so completely, they'd meet up later and… well, they did just what came naturally. And Canterlot—oh boy—Canterlot had the best stallions she'd ever had. But those days were gone.

Her reputation had seriously gone to shit since the Ursa Minor incident, and attempting a hostile takeover of Ponyville didn’t exactly help that very much. She was a laughingstock in the former situation, made out to be the fraud she, admittedly, was. But the Ponyville Takeover?

It didn’t take long for sensationalist newspapers to stretch certain elements of what really happened. While Twilight Sparkle, her friends, and even much of Ponyville were kind enough to forgive her, the rest of Equestria didn't share their opinion. The mean things they said about her when she was a fraud quickly mutated into downright cruelty. She could still see the estranging, judicial looks in their eyes as she’d walk by—even from the stallions she’d been with before.

Before she met Sunset Shimmer and began to finally get back on track with her travelling magic show (And magic in general), there were many a lonely night in which the only thing Trixie looked forward to was weeping silently into her pillow.

But that was then, wasn’t it? Trixie was taking steps to improve herself—and she’d prove herself to the world. But first, she’d have to prove it to herself.

Her ego coddled for now, Trixie walked around the wagon and finally found the supply box on its side. She undid the special lock with her magic (a handy-dandy spell for the unicorn with secrets worth keeping), and looked inside for an orange towel. “Where’s…? I thought I had one in here!” Trixie said after rummaging for a bit.

She thumped either side of the supply box’s open mouth with her hooves in frustration and harrumphed. Glancing aside, she found out where it went.

There, on the green grass, was Sunset Shimmer lying on the orange towel, taking a nap outside. Trixie had to admit, the girl had an eye for color theory: the orange accented her fireball color scheme beautifully, her red-and-yellow mane and tail curling about her every curve.

If it was one thing Trixie was totally jealous of, it was Sunset Shimmer’s stunning good looks. Her slender figure, piercing green eyes, the curly mane. Everything about Sunset's appearance was captivating. Maybe that was why she was so abrasive towards others. She’s such a hot piece she thinks she can get away with it… and likely did on a regular basis.

Trixie trotted over to Sunset, unsure if her mentor was truly asleep. When she was a few feet away, Trixie leaned forward a bit to watch Sunset’s side rise and fall in peaceful rhythm. After a second, she heard a quiet snore. Sunset’s hind leg twitched, then her ear. She was out like a light.

Trixie got The Notion. Not a notion. Not just any notion. The Notion. A wide and mischievous smile took snaked from one end of her face to the other as she slowly crept up on her mentor, intent on shaking her awake suddenly and screaming in her ear. She was now two feet away, squatting like a jungle cat about to pounce.

The moment Trixie shot forward to complete her prank, her face connected with something hard as ass. The force of the impact nearly knocked Trixie out, splitting her vision and mind in multiple directions. Everything went quiet for a second, then came back in a warped hum. When she came back together, Trixie realized she was on her back, facing the sky. She pulled herself back up to her hooves, and looked over to Sunset.

Still sawing logs. Her tail flicked adorably in her sleep.

Trixie knocked on the invisible shield Sunset had apparently put up around herself. Was it sound-proof, too? She never knew Sunset to be a heavy sleeper. Her knocks became a frantic waling on the shield’s walls—as if Trixie thought it would give out if there was enough force brought on it. She punched it. She bucked it. She chewed on it. She jumped on it. She sat on it. It just wouldn’t give, and Sunset wouldn’t wake up.

Trixie groaned and gave up, heading back to the wagon to look for something else that could also be orange.

Just as she was halfway to the wagon, she heard a theatrical yawn. She turned around to see that Sunset had just woken up, and had sat up to stretch. Trixie turned around and walked back, dead certain that Sunset had been awake the whole time.

“That wasn’t funny, Sunset,” Trixie glowered.

“Was for me,” Sunset countered, her red curls bobbing as she giggled. “What’s so important that you needed to interrupt my nap?”

Trixie sighed. “The Great and Powerful Trixie—”

“You don’t need to use your whole title around me,” Sunset interrupted.

Trixie scowled. “The Great and Powerful Trixie was trying to get that transformation spell right, and so Trixie needs the beach towel you’re sitting on.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie was supposed to turn an apple into an orange. Why does Trixie need my towel?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie needs the blanket as a focus because it’s orange,” Trixie said quickly. “And it isn’t your towel to begin with.”

Sunset Shimmer cocked an eyebrow as that wicked smile of hers painted her face in explicitly unfriendly colors. “Ooooh, the Great and Powerful Trixie needs a blankie. Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“Get off the towel!” Trixie commanded.

Sunset, who’d been sitting up on the towel this whole conversation, rubbed her butt on it in self-satisfaction. “Nope,” she said. “This towel is now officially property of my cute little bottom.”

“Trixie’s little hoof would like a word with your little bottom!” Trixie said as she shook a threatening hoof at Sunset Shimmer.

Sunset folded her forelegs and smiled smugly. “You want the towel, you’ll have to take it from me.”

A few seconds of silence. Then, Trixie’s horn glowed. Sunset winked one eye and suddenly, the glow around Trixie’s horn turned from her usual light blue to a bright green. Sunset’s color. A the same time, Trixie felt a sensation in her horn—it wasn’t unlike being rudely pinched. Trixie yelped as she recoiled.

“Trying to magic my towel away?” Sunset said. “You upset my bottom. My bottom is angry.”

Trixie then reached down to grab the towel with her teeth, intent on flipping Sunset right off it. Unfortunately, Sunset saw it coming and swatted Trixie away with her magic, sending her back a few good feet onto the grass. Trixie sat up. “Is this another one of your stupid lessons?” Trixie shouted. “Because all Trixie has learned today is that you’re a bitch!”

Sunset laughed haughtily. “No argument there,” she said. “But there’s still the matter of this towel. I’m still sitting on it.”

Trixie sat there, her lips downturned in a power-frown. She snorted as she got back up. It looked as though Trixie would have to use some guile here if she wanted the towel. She thought it over for a minute or two before thinking something up.

And when the idea hit her, Trixie smiled so sinisterly, Sunset’s own smug smile dropped for a moment.

Trixie then trotted to the wagon. She removed the brakes on the wagon’s wheels. She walked over to the front of the wagon. She yoked herself. Then she began to move the wagon away.

“H-Hey!” Sunset shouted. “Where are you going?!”

“You want the towel so much, you can keep it,” Trixie called over her shoulder. “Everything else inside the wagon belongs to Trixie!”

Sunset then got up and used her magic to stop the wagon’s rear wheels from turning. Just as the wagon was jerked to a stop, Sunset felt the towel underneath her give a dangerous lurch. With a blue glow, the towel flew out from under her, sending her spinning through the air, then landing on her cute little bottom with a thud.

The towel flew over to its master, who shook it free of stuck grass, then rolled it up midair. Trixie unyoked herself and walked around the wagon, where she was met by a scowling Sunset Shimmer. They shared some seething silence before smiles tugged at their faces, gradually pulling their scowls into smirks. Then they snickered. Then they shared a laugh.

Sunset Shimmer threw a hoof around Trixie’s withers as they walked back into the wagon. “You little shit, you got me good.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie never disappoints!” Trixie chirped as they entered the wagon.

The clean air and warm sunlight now behind them, the two walked over to the table where the stubborn apple sat. Trixie folded the towel up into a square shape, then picked up the apple and placed the towel beneath it. She backed off a bit, readying herself to try again.

Sunset got up on her hind legs, leaning against the wagon’s wall to the left of the apple's stand as she folded her forelegs. This should be fun to watch.

Trixie squinted as she focused on the idea of the orange. Its weight. Its taste. Its smell. She took a deep breath as her horn began to glow. She focused on the towel beneath the apple, the idea of the orange becoming stronger in her mind. The orange was practically in her mouth already, its juices spilling with every bite. This was it. The moment of truth.

Trixie’s squinted eyes caught something else. There, on the wall behind the apple, next to Sunset, was a poster of Canterlot. Her eyes transfixed on the spires—those phallic spires—all those amazing stallions—her concentration getting interrupted and jumbled at the very last second.

The apple glowed, and as it did, Sunset felt herself get a little warm. She raised an eyebrow as Trixie gave a shout and finished casting the spell.

Then everything went white with a poomph.

Sun Follows Moon

There was white, and there was warmth.

The two danced together for a few seconds—or maybe minutes—or maybe an eternity or two—then they gradually faded away like a receding tide. Her other senses came back slowly, with tingling sensations up and down every inch of her body. The wagon around her began as a wet, warped image, gradually evolving into more definite shapes. A sound chirped from a million miles away, rushing toward her ears until it grew into Trixie’s voice.

“Oh Trixie’s gosh!” she exclaimed. “Trixie is so sorry! The Great and Apologetic Trixie is sorry!”

Sunset tried to say something, but it came out as a gurgle. She coughed, clearing all the phlegm and spittle. “Shut your stupid mouth, you—”

Sunset fell silent. Trixie did likewise.

Why does my voice sound funny? Sunset wondered with some worry. Her original voice was like honey, dark and sweet—or at least, that’s Flash Sentry told her when they first met. The voice that grumbled out of her just now was hardly any of those things: it was more of a sultry tenor seasoned with a bad attitude.

Sunset then sat up, swinging her forelegs in front of herself. She looked down at them, and gasped at the noticeable change in their shape—no longer slender, but sturdy. Strong-looking. She moved one foreleg, watching and feeling the swell of its bicep. Her forelegs were so much fuller than they were before.

She stood up then, noticing that she was a bit taller now, too. Her dread quickly reaching a boiling point, Sunset snapped her eyes to Trixie.

Trixie’s blue face was frozen in a stunned expression, her cheeks a-blush, an enchanted, captured look in her eyes.

“I NEED A MIRROR!” Sunset bellowed. “GET ME A MIRROR!”

Trixie snapped out of her stupor. “Uh, s-sure!” She scrambled about at first, then made a quick glance-around of her wagon’s interior…

…only to remember that she always had mirrors around. But they were the types she used in her magic tricks, and totally not for any purpose of vanity or self-fulfillment whatsoever, no-sir-ree. Trixie grabbed the nearest one with her magic and floated it over to Sunset. “I-It’s not as bad as it looks, really!” she assured her mentor.

The mirror was rudely ripped from Trixie’s grasp by a light green glow. Sunset floated the mirror over and was stunned by what she saw.

A handsome, boyish face looked back at “her”—his eyes exactly the same color as “hers”, his coat the same color as “hers”, his mane the same color as “hers”. Her full lips were replaced by a pair of masculine chops, crowning a cute chin and fetching jawline. He looked like the kind of guy Sunset Shimmer would want to date.

The mirror dropped onto the ground. “Oh, shit,” Sunset murmured, his face crumpling into sheer panic. He winced. He gulped.

Then he dunked his head down low and looked between his legs.

There was a cringe-inducing silence as Sunset's eyes widened.. Slowly, he raised his head back up, holding his breath with an angry snarl that caused Trixie to take a cautious step backwards. His nostrils flared as he growled, “Change me back. CHANGE ME BACK. RIGHT. NOW.”

Trixie gulped. She had just turned her mentor into the cutest colt she’d ever seen, without knowing how she did it. Was there any way to explain it to this very angry, very-experienced-in-horrible-kinds-of-magic mare-turned-stallion?

Probably not.

“Th… The Great and Powerful Tri—”

“Great and powerful, nothing!” Sunset spat as he took a menacing step forward. “You were supposed to change an apple into an orange, not give me a dick! How did you even manage to cast a genderswap spell in the first place?! That's a Class SS spell! That's like, magic's Legendary Mode! You can barely manage C-Class!”

Suddenly, Trixie dropped her most fan-endearing trait. “I don’t know how!” Trixie shouted, throwing her forelegs into the air. “I don’t know how I turned you into a stallion! And I don’t know how to undo this!”

Sunset had become used to Trixie’s histrionics, her exaggerated claims and body language, her inability to cop to her mistakes. So he believed her now—everything she just said and did was just as much dropping her act and cutting the crap as it was a terrible implication of their current situation.

They stood there, glaring at one another for a few seconds before Sunset finally huffed and settled himself. “Well then, we need to look for a cure. And by we, I mean you.”

“But Trixie doesn’t understand how Trixie even DID this!” Trixie reminded him, once again referring to herself in third person. “How is Trixie supposed to undo this if Trixie doesn't know how it happened to begin with?”

Sunset’s lips pulled into a scowl that turned up the heat in Trixie’s face. That look of teeth-grinding angst. He then reached over, his hoof touching her shoulder, sending electricity all throughout her body. He impatiently spun her around, then pointed at the books on her desk. “Your answers are in those,” he said impatiently. “Just take a look. It’s in a book!”

He was so… close to her now. Trixie bit her lip, that electrifying feeling still tingling from the tip of her horn to the bottoms of her hooves. She breathed in deep, and got a big whiff of pure, undiluted male—a scent that peeled the sweat out of her pores. And then, there was Sunset’s voice.

His voice wasn’t sexy. His voice was sex. Plain and simple. He could be rattling off the nutritional values on the back of a can of peas and she would still be enraptured by that beautiful tenor of his. She didn’t notice she was leaning into him with a dreamy smile on her face until Sunset backed away.

“What are you doing?!” he demanded.

“N-Nothing!” Trixie lied, gulping. “Anyway! Trixie has this. Books. Answers. Cure. Yes!”

Trixie stumbled to the table, picking up books and going through them. She set them back once she realized they weren't about shapeshifting magic, then went for the ones that were. A few suddenly glowed bright green and floated to Sunset, who’d walked over to the desk with this look of duty on his face. His jaw steeled, his eyes piercing. Trixie liked that face. This was the look of a stallion in a missionary—excuse me, a stallion on a mission.

They flipped through some of the books in silence for a small while. From the corner of her eye, Trixie watched him as he studied with her, admiring his form from different angles. His chest was broad, but not intimidating; his legs were strong-looking, but not rippling with muscle; his flanks were taut, but not—

Oh. Oh no.

His flanks. They were powerful, chiseled objects designed by clever goddesses who knew exactly what their subjects wanted. Trixie licked her lips nervously, imagining all the things that a stallion with flanks like those could do to her.

She clenched her teeth and shook the perverted thoughts out of her mind, picking up other books on shapeshifting and flipping through them, searching for any clue as to what to do. But no matter what she did, this stallion next to her was driving her crazy with lust.

Trixie couldn’t believe she was getting so excited over Sunset’s new form. Besides the fact that he was hot. And right next to her. And hot.

But he was her mentor, for Celestia’s sake! Not to mention originally a girl! This teenage filly act was beneath her—as well as annoying, if Sunset’s reactions were any indication.

On the other hoof, how long had it been since she’d been with anypony? Had it really been three years since the last time she tasted what really made a stallion a stallion?

Trixie gulped nervously, bullets of sweat riveting down her face as heat built up in her ears. Finally, he rested a book down. She thought he’d finally found what they were looking for, only for Sunset to groan and facehoof. “Something wrong?” Trixie asked.

“What are we doing?” Sunset asked rhetorically. “This is a genderswap spell you cast on accident. You couldn’t even hold an apple’s transformation into an orange for longer than four seconds.” He laughed into his hoof, then looked at Trixie with those magnificent sparkling green eyes of his. “We just need to wait for it to wear off.”

Trixie caught herself getting lost in the universe behind those eyes and shook her head slightly, as if trying to cast away her out-of-control perverted thoughts. “W-Well, uh… okay then!” She smiled insecurely. “That sounds good to Trixie.”

So they sat and waited. Sunset Shimmer drummed a hoof on the table lazily. He clicked his tongue. Swallowed. His eyes floated around the wagon a little. Trixie shyly placed her hoof on a book and moved it up and down the desk. She looked away, her eyes landing on the apple from before.

“Well, this is boring,” Sunset Shimmer declared.

Trixie shrugged, bringing her attention back to her mentor. “OK then. What do you wanna do?”

Sunset shrugged. “I dunno. What do you wanna do?”

A million situations crossed Trixie’s mind. Some of them involved more conservative positions. Some of them were a little more adventurous. All of them colored her face from blue of limelight to shade of beet.

“Could, uh… could… maybe we…” Trixie shyly shrunk down while nervously clapping her hooves together. This was a dumb idea. It would be the most terrible thing to suggest in a situation like this, but… come on, mare! It’d been three years!

“…Could we make out?”

“No,” Sunset said flatly and without a hint of hesitance.

“I thought so,” Trixie sighed as she looked away.

Sunset scoffed. “What? Is it because I'm a dude now?” A snicker wormed its way out of Sunset’s mouth from behind his hoof. His laugh was the most wonderful sound that had ever tickled Trixie’s great and powerful ears. It was Sunset’s original snicker, but at this masculine pitch that played Trixie’s spine like hooves on ivory keys.

“Or,” Sunset teased, “were you… were you into me even before?”

Deeply embarrassed, Trixie drooped, now on her rump, her head lowered. She looked like a puppy whose master just chastised it for taking a piss on the rug.

“…Trixie?” Sunset asked, this time in genuine concern. “You okay?”

“No,” she said flatly. “I’m not.” She looked away. “You’re being mean to me.”

“So?” Sunset said with a shrug. “I’m always mean to you. In fact, we’re both kind of mean to each other. What’s your point?”

Finally, Trixie threw her hooves into the air again. “For Pete’s sake, Sunset! When was the last time either of us had sex?!”

The question had taken Sunset Shimmer off-guard. “He” remembered the last time she had sex—it was about a year and a half ago. A few weeks before Flash Sentry dumped her. Her time with him felt like the best days of her life: that feeling of togetherness, of two becoming one.

Of course, the sex was sex between teens. They didn’t really know what they were doing. It was less sex and more like two pieces of kindling awkwardly rubbing together to start a fire, only to sputter and spark and... not much beyond that. So it wasn’t exactly a great experience, and Sunset was clumsy at it (not that Flash was any better).

But still, Flash was a cute guy—in fact, a great guy. Sunset could tell, simply because at the end of every day she spent with him, she'd be left wondering what she did to attract a guy as thoughtful and romantic as he was.

...So, what happened?

“Well, uh,” Sunset began.

“Three years!” Trixie said. “Three years of sexless humiliation and degradation!” She stomped about her wagon angrily as she continued her rant. “I was somepony once, you know! Maybe I wasn’t as important as Princess Celestia’s own personal protégé! And maybe I wasn’t this talented spellcaster! But I was somepony!

“I got up on that stage, and ponies cheered! I threw fireworks and told stories about big adventures that were so well thought-up, I got swept up into them and thought they were real myself! And everypony loved it! Everypony loved me!”

She stopped. Her back was to Sunset now, and upon closer inspection, Sunset caught the glimmering of quiet tears. “…They loved me,” she said weakly. “I used to be wanted. I’d meet some nice stallions. We’d get together for some fun when I was in town. But now, I think about it and I realize, it wasn't anything to them anyway. They abandoned me like everypony else did.”

Her back shuddered. “…I just wanna feel wanted again…”

Much of this was a story Sunset had heard before. The humiliation at the hooves of their mutual object of frustration, Twilight Sparkle. The years of embarrassment and spiraling into obscurity and irrelevance.

But this was a new development. Trixie had just opened up to her.

And Sunset… actually felt bad for her. It wasn’t something like pity (which the old Sunset Shimmer would have given like she gave so many). It was more empathic. It was that kind of feeling you get when you get kicked out of your house, spend a year on the streets, depend on the kindness of strangers—and when you finally get back on your feet, and you see a homeless guy on the corner holding a sign that says “HOMELESS, HUNGRY, ANYTHING HELPS”, you give him as much as you can part with because you’ve been there before—and you know how bad he has it—and you know how tough the world is—and you know how much it sucks.

You know all this just by looking at him, because even though you weren't there when his life went to shit, you were there. You had been hurt, too. You had been stepped on and cast aside. You were there.

Silence. Sunset got up and trotted over. “Hey,” he said quietly.

Trixie dared to look at him, her eyes swimming with tears. He gently wiped them away. “Look,” he said. “I know how you must feel, Trixie. I’ve... I’ve been there too, you know. Not feeling wanted. That pain of deep rejection that poisons you and your opinion of yourself.”

Trixie listened to his voice with rapt attention, looking into his stark eyes, drinking in his genuine empathy and warmth.

“Back before…” Sunset gave himself a once-over. “Well, before we even met, there was this guy I dated. I think you know the type. Cute guy. Big heart. Nice ass.”

Trixie giggled.

“No, really, it was. Anyway, he and I got together. But it wasn’t long until his patience with me and my bad attitude wore out. So he threatened to dump me unless I shaped up.” He breathed a wistful sigh. “I guess you know how well that turned out.”

Trixie was reluctant to say it, but… “He dumped you?”

Sunset paused. Sighed. Nodded sadly. “Yeah. Yeah, he did. I’m the type who wears her opinions, no matter how ugly or biased, on her sleeves. So even when I tried—and I mean, really tried—not to be such a bitch to everyone, I still slipped up and eventually he finally had it with me. We broke up, and he never so much as said hello to me ever again.”

His eyes looked to his hooves. Sunset shook his head and walked back over to the desk. “And you know something?” A small, miserable chuckle escaped him as he reached the desk. “I don’t think he ever really believed me when I told him I loved him. In retrospect, I... don't believe me either.”

Trixie’s heart sunk.

Sunset opened a book, lazily flipping its pages. “So yeah, I might have been under the tutelage of Princess Celestia and know a lot about magic, but I’ve never lived the experiences you have. All the fame and attention and travel. But I still lost the best things I had." He closed his eyes and breathed wistfully. “In the end? ...Maybe feeling wanted is just a dream for both of us.”

Trixie’s heart broke. It was the flatness of his delivery more than the words themselves. The idea that confident, bratty Sunset Shimmer really felt unloved deep down inside?

That… That just wasn’t right.

Trixie trotted over to Sunset. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“Don’t be. Like every other terrible thing in my life, it’s mostly my doing anyway.”

Trixie huffed. “Come on, stop being so depressing!” She paused. “Well, on the other hoof, you are cute when you brood.”

Sunset smiled sadly and chuckled. “You’re just saying that because I have a dick now.”

“A dick, and taut muscles, and a sexy voice,” Trixie said, throwing a wink. “And a nice ass, if I may add.”

Silence. Sunset hissed a sigh from a pained smile. “This is just getting weird.”

Trixie nodded, a bewildered look in her eyes. “Yes,” she agreed. “Yes it is.”

Awkwardly, the two went back to just being quiet. Finally, Trixie clicked her tongue. “So, uh… the spell hasn’t worn off.”

“I noticed.”

The awkward silence pursued until Trixie chased it off with a cough. “Sunset, I, uh…”

“Yeah?”

“...I’m sorry. I’m already sorry for the spell, and for your ex. But I meant… just now, that whole story about my not feeling wanted?” Trixie sighed. “That was all bull.”

Sunset cocked an eyebrow. “You mean, you were lying about wanting to make out?”

“No,” Trixie said, shaking her head. “Not that. I mean, kinda. I was trying to manipulate you. Turning up the waterworks was… uh…” Trixie chuckled nervously. “That was my surefire method of getting guys to bed with me.”

Sunset stared at her dumbly. Then he suddenly smiled and laughed again, his beautiful snicker sneaking about from behind his hoof. “Are you serious?”

Trixie nodded, a dumb smile kidnapping her lips. “Yeah. Kinda pathetic, but it works. Well, usually.”

Sunset facehoofed, his laugh bouncing merrily all over the wagon. “Why didn’t I think of that?! The whole ‘poor, vulnerable girl’ act, playing on their misplaced chivalry?” His voice began to rise in its pitch, his laughter overtaking him completely. “And I fell for it! Me! You little shit, you got me good!”

Trixie joined in the raucous laughter. It really was kinda funny, honestly. Mostly stupid, but stupid enough that it tickles your ribs with how unfair life can be sometimes that you have to cheat to stay on top. It was a few minutes until the laughter finally died.

Interestingly, the starved feeling in Trixie’s loins had subsided. Well, almost. Sunset still made for a hot guy, but now Trixie was more focused, less controlled by her lust. Maybe it was the laugh they shared. Or—and this might be a real shocker—maybe it was because they just shared some of their darkest secrets.

Or—and this might be an even bigger shocker—maybe it was because she was now thinking of Sunset as more of a friend than a mentor/lust object. It was like a foggy haze dispelled by a ray of light. She could see clearly now.

Clearly.

“The shapeshifting spell,” Trixie said in sudden stark realization.

“Yeah?”

“It’s mostly based around the desires of the caster,” she declared, combing her memory of the passages she’d studied. “I wanted that apple to become an orange, but it didn’t work because I couldn’t visualize the orange well enough.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow. “…Go on.”

Trixie paced the length of the wagon, going from one end to the other, explaining her thoughts. “I visualized what I thought I wanted—the orange—but my spell went out of control because I saw Canterlot’s spires and thought about stallions instead, and that coupled with my own loneliness made me want a stallion so much more than I wanted an orange, but the apple couldn't become a stallion because there wasn't enough mass, so the spell redirected to you so you’d become a stallion!”

Sunset slowly raised his other eyebrow, his face colored a shade of worry by the rambling madness he’d just heard.

“That’s what must have turned you into a stallion!” Trixie concluded. “My want for sex far outweighed my want for the orange.” She clicked her tongue, settling back into character. “...That and Trixie’s aim was off.”

A pregnant pause. “EeeeyyyYEAH!” Sunset Shimmer said unsurely. “So how will you undo this?”

She magic’d over the orange towel. “Here, hold this.”

“…Why?”

“Just trust Trixie on this one,” she said, backing away as Sunset held the towel in his forelegs. She stopped, then assumed her stance. Her eyes fixed on that handsome stallion, then on the towel he held. She settled her eyes on that towel, ignoring how handsome the stallion holding it was (Much harder to do than you'd think). Her horn began to glow.

She thought of that morning. Sunset took the towel. Trixie’s botched prank. The battle for the towel.

Sunset cleared his throat, hoping against hope this would work.

And then, even long before that. Their boisterous clash of egos when they’d first met. The heated words of their argument over who was better at magic. Sunset embarrassing Trixie in front of her small crowd by showing her up with better magic. Sunset helping Trixie fix her wagon’s broken wheel while it rained later that same day. Their mutual apologies. The long months afterward training Trixie to be a better spellcaster.

Sunset began to feel warm, like before.

And then, just everything in general about Sunset. All the things Sunset taught her. All the things Trixie admired and envied about Sunset Shimmer—her good looks, her smarts, her past.

The warmth inside Sunset began to grow.

Please, Trixie asked nopony in particular as her horn’s glow intensified. I just want my friend back to normal. I want my friend.

It was like making a wish.

There was white, and there was warmth.

Author's Note

Wow, Sunset's chock-full of references and shout-outs today. Did you catch em all?

Eclipse (The End)

They dined that night on the finest Canterlot cuisine—well, the finest Canterlot cuisine they could afford, anyway. Any money the two had earned from their occasional odd jobs was usually quickly eaten by the wagon’s upkeep, ingredients for the more difficult spells Trixie was learning, and other necessities.

But tonight was a special occasion. It was time to splurge a bit; crack open the champagne and live a little!

The restaurant itself was like its own cramped little kingdom. Ceiling lamps cast dim light onto the patrons below as they sat at their tables, feasting on food and spinning yarns. Night Guards about to clock in were steadily leaving the diner before the Royal Guards just getting off work came in for their regulars. From outside the windows, the moon looked on in jealously as the whole restaurant ignored its presence.

Where she was seated, Trixie found the diner to be a ballroom of different smells and sounds. The cologne from some of the patrons, the baked goods, the steamed vegetables—all smells of all kinds twirling and waltzing through the air. They became dance partners under the music of the chatter of patrons and the band playing on stage, a song of hatred slowly becoming love humming over gently-stroked guitars and softly blowing horns.

“You like this place, huh?” asked Sunset—now in her glorious regular form—from the other side of the table.

Trixie was snapped out of her thoughts. “This your first time here?”

Sunset shrunk in her seat shyly as she nibbled her smoked onion and potato shish-ka-bob. “Well, yeah. You know I lived in Canterlot for a while, but I never even knew this place existed.”

“You only lived in the Castle, right?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

Trixie chuckled, then took her fork and jabbed it into a fried artichoke ball, greedily horking it into her mouth. She swallowed before continuing. “Looks like somepony’s gonna need a tour of Canterlot.”

“Well, you’ve been pretty much everyplace in Equestria, right?” Sunset said before taking a bite from her shish-ka-bob.

Trixie shrugged. “I’ve been everywhere, mare. Performed in Hoofington, Baltimare, Ponyville, Whinnyapolis, Manehatten—” (she clapped her hooves together and snorted a laugh) “—oh-hoooo, shit, Manehatten!”

“I’ve read about Manehatten,” Sunset said as she took another bite of her shish-ka-bob. She chewed quietly, as if in contemplation, then swallowed. “Casinos, theaters, first-class hotels and restaurants. Lots of entertainment venues there.”

“No kidding! The lights, the crowds. The roar of applause at my Manehatten show was so loud I went deaf for a day!” Trixie laughed as she finished her bowl of artichoke balls. She eyed the half-slice of orange she’d ordered as a side. After a few silent seconds, she looked up to Sunset with a smirk.

“...I bet I can do it.”

Sunset rolled her eyes as she finished one ka-bob and went for the second. “Here? Now? Seriously?” she asked.

“Sounds like we have a neigh-sayer in the audience,” Trixie said, drawing out the neigh.

“An audience, huh?” Sunset grinned. She took another bite of her ka-bob and chewed slowly, eyeing the half-slice of orange on the table. Her eyes flicked back up to Trixie, who was leaning forward on the table, her elbows propping up her smug, challenging face.

Sunset swallowed, then placed her ka-bob back on her plate. She leaned back with her own smug smile. “Entertain me.”

Trixie made a mock bow in her seat. Then she eyed the orange with intense concentration as both her horn and the orange began to glow with blue light. Sunset observed closely—and only now did she realize the tablecloth was a deep, healthy shade of red, like the skin of an apple. On top of that, the dish the orange rested in was white, like the flesh of an apple.

Visual cues. Good.

With a muted pop of pure blue light, the half-slice of orange became a delicious half-slice of apple. The two watched it closely for a few seconds, as if it was going to come alive any moment. The half-slice was then plucked up from its dish and brought over to Sunset Shimmer.

She carefully put it into her mouth, one edge of the apple fit between her pearly whites. Slowly, her teeth closed around the small bit of apple in her mouth, breaking it off with a crunch. She chewed. Swallowed.

Sunset closed her eyes and nodded approvingly. “Pass,” she said.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie never disappoints!” Trixie chirped. She lifted her glass of water—since the food was so expensive—and took a drink.

Suddenly, the chair behind Trixie scooted right into hers with a jarring clack, pushing her forward and knocking the glass out of her telekinetic grip and clattering onto the table, dousing the tablecloth with its contents.

“Oh! So sorry!” came a merry voice.

“So sorry!” joined another.

“We’re so sorry, Miss!” they both said in unison.

The two skinny unicorns stood up from their seat suddenly, revealing their impressive height. Their blue-and-white striped clothes, straw hats, black bow ties, and ruddy mane colors made them resemble vaudeville showmen. They both looked similar enough to be identical twins, had one of them not grown a moustache. “I didn’t know you were there,” said the clean-faced one as he placed a hoof on her shoulder in apology.

Trixie coughed and sputtered, the water she’d tried to drink coming up through her nostrils. Sunset got up from her chair. “You okay?!” she asked with some alarm.

“Tr-Trixie is fine,” Trixie replied, gulping a desperate gasp of air. Her eyes—howling with anger—flicked to the two who’d so rudely knocked her chair too far forward.

The two stallions winced, as if expecting to be on the business end of a lightning bolt. “W-We said we were sorry,” said the clean-faced brother.

Trixie brushed at her barrel nonchalantly. “The Great and Powerful Trixie has no time for your—”

“Trixie?!” said the other brother, his moustache bouncing with surprise. “The Great and Powerful Trixie?”

Trixie stopped, stunned. Her reputation was well-known, yes, but these days, for none of the reasons she’d like. She and Sunset had already been accosted numerous times before by ponies who still remembered the Ponyville Takeover. Was this going to be another confrontation?

Before Trixie could say or do anything, Sunset Shimmer took a step forward. “Yeah, that’s her. Got a problem with that?”

By now, the other patrons had stopped to stare. Sunset’s choice of words evidently wasn’t for the best, as some of the Guards fidgeted in their chairs, preparing for a brawl to break loose.

The clean-faced stallion removed his straw hat, placing it against his chest demurely. “No problem at all, Miss,” he said. “We’re just…” He blushed as his voice trailed off, his roasted-green eyes darting away from Trixie’s inquisitive stare.

“We’re big fans,” his brother finished with a nod.

“Are you, now?” Trixie said with some reservation.

Both nodded. “We saw your show in Manehatten,” said the demure one. “The pyrotechnics you used were nothing short of inspiring. The act finisher in particular?” He made a popping motion against his head with one hoof. “Mind-blowing.”

Trixie remembered her one show in Manehatten, and that the pyrotechnics she’d used then were faulty. The act finisher the clean-faced twin mentioned didn’t go exactly as planned—exploding and sending waves of fire down all over the stage. Trixie put them out with twirls of magic that hushed them like strong winds slapping at candles. It was one Tartarus of a fiasco, but the audience loved it.

“How rude of us!” exclaimed the mustachioed brother. “All this talk, and we’ve yet to introduce ourselves!” He elbowed his brother.

“R-Right!”

The two then started their introductions in an odd sort of song. It was charming, fast, tongue-twisty. The kind of ditty that bores holes in your ears and lays eggs that hatch into never-ending stanzas of its parent. The clean, baby-faced one was Flim—the mustachioed one was Flam—they were the Flim Flam Brothers, travelling salesponies nonparei!l

Nonpareil. Traveling salesponies they may be, but nonpareil? Somehow, Trixie and Sunset Shimmer doubted it.

But their act, impromptu song number as it was, was definitely solid. Sunset found herself tapping her hoof, keeping the beat to their lilting, barbershop-quartet-styled singing. The other patrons settled back into the lively atmosphere, with many of them getting into the song as much as Trixie and Sunset were.

The band on stage even got in on the act, their guitars and drums and horns and bass barking discordantly, trying to find the exact rhythm of the Flim Flam Brothers’ song. It was like listening to something fall apart, then come back together gracefully. Soon, the entire restaurant was alive with the sound of song.

Suddenly, everypony was singing the stanzas, clinking their mugs of whatever drinks they’d ordered, having fun. Trixie, showpony she was, became swept up into the song—literally. She’d taken Flim by his skinny foreleg and the two cut a rug during the bridge, the patrons cheering them on.

Sunset glanced aside at an expectant Flam as the song continued without them. He wiggled his eyebrows and held out a hoof. He didn’t have the jawline, the cute chin, the eyes, the build, or the overall design of a guy she’d want to date—or fuck, if she was in the mood—but dammit, he was handsome in a way that felt... mature. Confident. Masculine.

She smirked, rolled her bright green eyes, and took his hoof. Together, they joined the other two in their dance number—spinning here—trading there—a jump—then a twirl. Their unrehearsed dance certainly showed their lack of practice, but it was so sudden and so damned fun that nopony really minded.

The patrons of the restaurant began stomping their hooves to the beat, chanting the word “dance” as if it were a command to these four unexpected entertainers. The dancers' movements graduated from graceless to fluid as they became more comfortable with their partners, growing more and more kinetic as their nervousness with one another was shed.

The Flim Flam Brothers then began their refrain, this time met by stanzas made up by Trixie and Sunset—who were returned with crazy, clever, on-the-fly rhymes from the brothers. Trixie's place countered with Flim's face, and Sunset's shame for Flam's name. Their crisscrossing lyrics ended up changing the tone of the song from an introductory proclamation to a story of learning from one's mistakes and moving on, their soulful voices dancing with one another just as much as they were themselves. The patrons went wild at their performance.

Finally, their song came to a close just in front of the exit. The four bowed as the entire restaurant shook with cheers.

“Thank you!” Flim called over the clamor. “Thank you very much!”

With that, all four filed out of the restaurant to applause that could be heard three blocks away. Doubtlessly, it was a night that the patrons were going to talk about for a long time.

The excitement died down a little bit afterward, the patrons returning to their meals now that the entertainment portion of their visit was over, murmuring about the marvelous performance. Suddenly, realization smacked the face of one of the waiters. He quickly turned to his manager. “I don’t think those guys paid for their meals.”

The manager’s squinty eyes shot open.

“This is a cider-maker?” Trixie asked incredulously.

Wheels both big and small spinning round, bells ringing, gadgets buzzing, spokes spewing steam—if it really was supposed to be a cider-maker, it sure as shit didn’t look it. It more closely resembled the head of a train. All four rode this beast of a machine as it chugged and rolled along Canterlot’s main street, the moonlight above peeking shyly from behind Canterlot's phallic spires, bathing them in a ghostly glow.

“That’s what we tried selling it as for a time,” explained Flim. “But thanks to some setbacks, we’ve been working on putting it to different uses.”

Sunset cocked an eyebrow. “So, same machine, different applications?”

“That’s the idea!” Flam declared.

Trixie tsked, smiled, and shook her head. “So you’re salesmen, singers, dancers, and inventors?” She looked aside the next street. "Hey, down this way; we parked near the gates."

The brothers laughed. “Well, we’re hardly magicians,” Flam said with a shrug.

Trixie shrunk a little in her seat. “Um… truth is, neither is Trixie.”

Flim and Flam eyed her with looks of disbelief. All that big talk, that flair for the dramatic—even her performance in Las Pegasus—and she didn't consider herself a magician? Flim seemed ambivalent to say something, but before he could, Sunset Shimmer reached over from her perch on the machine and placed a hoof on Trixie’s shoulder. “But she’s getting better!” she offered in defense. “I’ve been teaching her better magic.”

Flam’s moustache twitched as he turned to look at Sunset. “So wait a moment; you’re a magic teacher?”

Sunset saw that look sparkling in his dark-green eyes. It was there when he offered her a dance, and now it was back, stronger than it was before. That look of intense interest, the kind a stallion makes when he’s found a mare he knows is worth keeping.

She gave him a teasing smirk. “Not officially,” she said, electing to not mention her tutelage under Princess Celestia. “But I’m good enough, don’tcha think?”

Silence. Flam then sported a daring smile as he leered at her. “...Don’t suppose you could... teach me some tricks?”

“I can teach you how to play dead,” Sunset said not unkindly.

Flim let loose a laugh that sounded more to Sunset and Trixie like a chicken clucking. “Looks like you need to work on your pick-up lines, brother!” he said.

Flam hurrrrrmmmphed and sunk in his seat, earning a laugh from the machine’s other passengers. Sunset gave his shoulder a playful punch. “But seriously, you guys are pretty awesome,” she said. “And I take it you’re travelers?”

“Wherever the wind takes us!” Flim said with a dramatic wave of his hoof.

Trixie laughed. “We’re a whole group of travelling entertainers!” she said. Her eyes widened in realization. “Hey! That’s it!”

“What’s it?” asked Sunset.

Trixie turned in her seat, facing the other three. “The way we played up that restaurant? The applause? The cheering? We led that crowd! We should be a travelling vaudeville show!”

She let the idea sunk into her three comrades. Flam, wide-eyed with realization, gave an approving nod, but said nothing. “That’s a GREAT idea!” Flim declared. “Your magic show, coupled with our singing and dancing—”

“—and this hulking beast of a machine,” Sunset added with a knock on the machine’s chassis.

Trixie’s hooves were shaking with barely-contained energy. “—We’d be an unstoppable show! We’ll have ponies talking about us to their grandkids! Ponies naming their pets after us!”

“Gee,” Sunset said flatly, “I’ve always wanted a slobbering Rottweiler named after me.”

“And think of the merchandising opportunities!” Flim joined in. “Posters, coffee mugs, t-shirts...”

Sunset laughed. “Imagine me, on a t-shirt...”

“I'd totally wear a t-shirt with you on it!” Trixie said.

Sunset made a deep gasp, her smile wide and her bright green eyes twinkling. She reached down and gave Trixie a hug. “Best friends, foreverrr!”

“I can see it now!” Trixie said, deliberately ignoring Sunset’s half-sarcasm. She lifted her eyes to the starry sky as if her following headline were written there. “The Great and Powerful Trixie performs alongside the Flim Flam Brothers, travelling entertainers nonpareil!”

“So what does that make me?” Sunset asked with a scowl.

“You get to be the coffee girl,” Trixie said quickly.

Sunset broke her hug and playfully smacked the back of Trixie’s head. All laughed. The four ponies rode down the street, out of Canterlot, and into their future.

And for the first time in a while, everything looked bright.

THE END.