“The court will now come to order,” said Princess Celestia. She didn’t shout or bang her gavel, for while both options were open to her she commanded authority without them. All it took was her soft command, and the level of chatter in the courtroom abruptly diminished. Ponies started to find their seats, and the last few spectators piled into the back.
At the table for the prosecution, Long Arm looked back over his shoulder and paused briefly to take in the crowd. The courtroom was packed, with standing room only for spectators, and even a few pegasi hanging up in the rafters for a better view. He wasn’t surprised. This was going to be the trial of the decade, if not the century, and he wouldn't have missed it for the world either.
Turning back ahead, Long Arm glanced up at the judge—Princess Celestia. It was rare she held court in person, but this trial warranted it. There wasn’t another judge in Equestria the defense couldn't intimidate, and half the ponies in Equestria wouldn't vote to convict if the defendant ate a puppy in front of them. Long Arm had made his career fighting Equestria’s best connected and most influential criminals—ponies who believed they were above the law. This case would be the height of his career, and if he failed, the end of it.
Eventually, silence came to the courtroom, and Celestia spoke again. “The trial of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza will now begin.” At the defendant’s table sat Cadence, Ruler of the Crystal Empire, Ambassador to Cloudsdale, Princess of Love, and now, defendant in a trial that could put her away for a very long time indeed. “The defendant,” continued Celestia, “faces twelve counts of Abuse of Magic, Unlawful Use of Mind-Altering Magic, and Reckless Negligence Leading to Gross Personal Harm, as well as one count of Assault. How does the defense plead?”
Cadence’s lawyer was a weasely little pegasus named Loop Hole—a grey pony with spindly wings and a shock-blonde mane and tail. Long Arm had faced him in court multiple times and lost to him twice, but as he watched the little stallion clear his throat and collect himself, he was more curious than hostile. He didn’t begrudge another lawyer for knowing their trade, and Loop Hole was very good at what he did, but Long Arm didn’t think even he could get Cadence out of this one. The evidence was too strong, and there was no way that Celestia would be seen letting her own niece off serious changes on a technicality.
“The defense,” Loop Hole finally spoke, with his reedy little voice, “moves for a dismissal.”
“On what basis?” Celestia demanded.
“The jury,” he gestured at the box of ponies across the room, representing a random assortment of all races, occupations, and genders, “is biased against my client. In the weeks leading up to this trial, they have been bombarded with media claiming that my client has ‘Gone mad with power,’ as well as sensationalist stories presenting unfounded claims of further offenses. My client has a right to an unbiased jury of her peers, which this courtroom clearly cannot provide.”
“Movement for dismissal is rejected,” Celestia said curtly, giving a small shake of her head. “While I appreciate your concern, the jury has been kept well insulated from the stories you describe.”
“Equestria has spoken of little else for the past several weeks,” Loop Hole tried to press his point. In Long Arm’s opinion, it was somewhat foolish—never argue with the judge—but he couldn't blame the little grey lawyer. The evidence was so stacked against his client that a dismissal was likely his only hope. “How could you possibly have found a jury that doesn’t read the papers, listen to criers, or participate in gossip of any sort? It would be easier to find ponies who still don’t know about Princess Twilight’s coronation—”
“Dude!” snapped an angry pony on the jury—a dark blue stallion with a starry mane. “Spoilers!”
“Oh,” said Loop Hole. He shuffled the papers in front of him.
“Indeed,” said Celestia. “Continue, council.”
“In that case.” Loop Hole cleared his throat. “We move for a dismissal on the basis that my client has a right to a jury of her peers. The jury contains neither alicorns nor crystal ponies, and thus cannot be said to contain peers of my client in any social, cultural, or legal sense.”
“So you suggest that the Princess of the Crystal Empire be put on trial by a jury of exclusively crystal ponies?” Celestia asked, her normally sweet tone turning icy. Long Arm flinched. “Or perhaps the council would prefer a jury consisting of the defendant’s aunts and former child ward?”
Loop Hole glanced at Cadence, who rolled her eyes and gestured him on. He swallowed. “A mix of the two would also be acceptable, Your Highness.”
“And if such a jury was assembled, would you then move for a dismissal on the basis that they were biased by virtue of their strong cultural or personal ties to the defendant?” Celestia asked, her icy tone growing no warmer.
“Well, I, uh...”
“Movement for dismissal is rejected.” Celestia’s words came quick and sharp, prompting a low murmur of conversation throughout the courtroom. “And if you attempt to avoid entering a plea again, I will hold you in contempt.”
Cadence sat back against her chair, seeming more annoyed with the proceedings than actually worried. Loop Hole glanced at her but she only shrugged, and after a moment he nodded to Celestia. “Not guilty.”
“Is the State prepared to make its opening statement?” Celestia’s gazed turned upon Long Arm, who quickly rose to his hooves.
“Yes, your Highness.” He bowed his head low to his Princess, and stepped out from behind the table. Turning to the jury box, he spoke, “Assembled members of the jury. You have been gathered here today for a historic task. Here, today, is your duty to prove that nopony is above the law. The defendant, as you all know, is a Princess of Equestria, a pony who some would say is beyond—”
“Tl;dr,” said one member of the jury, shrugging.
“Opening is weak. It lacks a hook,” agreed another.
Long Arm froze to the spot, bewildered that a member of the jury would interrupt the opening statement. He looked to Princess Celestia for guidance, but she merely gestured for him to continue. Long Arm straightened his tie and turned back to the jury box, but when he spoke again, he felt significantly less confident than he had a moment before.
“—beyond any reproach.” He swallowed. “But today, in this court, you will see overwhelming evidence of her crimes. With mountains of material evidence and hundreds of witnesses, there can be no doubt of what occurred. The defendant, Princess Cadence, recklessly and willfully discharged her love magic into a crowded marketplace, striking almost a dozen ponies. Their lives have been upturned, their old relationships ruined, their very spiritual integrity shattered. There can be no doubt as to the magnitude of her crimes, or of her guilt. The only question that remains is if you have the courage and the strength to do your civic duty and vote to convict. I urge you to do your civic duty here today, and to show that the law still rules Equestria.”
Whispers ran through the courtroom as Long Arm took his seat again. The jury looked distinctly unimpressed, with expressions ranging from bored to irritated. Now it was Long Arm’s turn to look down at the table in front of him, nervously shuffling his briefs as he pretended to read them. He’d gone into this case assuming the jury would be at least mostly fair, but he didn’t know what to make of this.
“Is the defense prepared to make its opening statement?” Celestia asked.
Loop Hole nodded, and then slowly lifted one of his papers in front of him. Without getting up, he cleared his throat, but before he could read, Princess Cadence reached out and touched his shoulder. He paused, and she leaned over, whispering intently into his ear. His already grey face turned even paler, and with trembling hooves, he returned his brief to the table. Without picking up another sheet, he spoke.
“Juror #6 has the cutest coat/mane color pattern,” he said, “I ship you with my OC. Or maybe the redhead in the background.”
An explosion of chatter filled the courtroom, and Celestia banged her gavel. Juror number six held his hoof to his chest and grinned, while the redheaded pony behind him looked like she’d eaten a bad lemon. “Jury intimidation!” cried somepony in the stands, while others shouted “OTP!” or “Background/Main!”
Behind the table, Long Arm let his face sink into his hooves, wondering just what he’d gotten himself into.
“The prosecution calls Trixie Lulamoon to the stand.”
From the crowd in the packed courtroom rose a cyan unicorn with a silvery mane, a cape clasped around her neck with a jeweled collar. She slowly walked to the witness booth, her head held high as over a hundred ponies stared at her. She showed no fear and never lost her dignity as she quietly ascended into the witness stand. Long Arm didn’t envy her—nopony deserved to have these sorts of secrets aired in public.
“Ms. Lulamoon,” Long Arm began. “Could you please tell the court what you were doing in the Ponyville marketplace on July the 5th of this year?”
“I was shopping for a new clasp for my cloak,” she said. She did not elaborate, and her words were clipped. A slight narrowing of her eyes at Long Arm told him all he needed to know about how she felt about him and the witness box. He’d known that was coming, but it still frustrated him to see it.
“Were you there with anypony?” Long Arm asked. Of course, he already knew the answer from the deposition.
“No,” she said. Again, her words were blunt, and her tone unfriendly.
“Please describe what happened at 2:14 that afternoon,” Long Arm asked. “Be specific—what were you doing, and what was the first thing you noticed that was amiss.”
“Trixie,” the witness began, “was haggling with a merchant over the price of a new clasp chain when she heard loud conversation. Trixie does not recall what was said. But when Trixie turned to look, she saw Princess Cadence, Twilight Sparkle, Princess Luna, and Prince Armor emerging from the new wine bar up Ponyville’s main street. It was Princess Cadence who was speaking, quite loudly, and she seemed to have had a few too many drinks.”
“Objection: speculation,” chimed in Loop Hole.
“Sustained.” Celestia coughed. “The jury is instructed to disregard that comment.”
Trixie snorted, evidently caring little for Celestia’s thoughts on the matter. “She was speaking much louder than one normally would, was laughing profusely, and seemed a tad unsteady on her hooves.”
“Go on,” Long Arm urged. “What happened next?”
“Her horn started to glow a particularly unpleasant pink color,” Trixie continued. “Twilight bravely attempted to push her head to one side, but before she could, a bright pink beam of light shot from Cadence’s horn.”
“And the beam passed through Twilight, is that correct?” asked Long Arm.
“Yes.”
“And the beam passed through you as well, is that correct?” he continued.
“Yes.”
“And then what happened?” Long Arm asked, turning to glance back at Cadence. She was scribbling on her legal brief, though he had no idea what she might be writing.
“Nothing happened,” Trixie answered, with a small shake of her head. “The spell didn’t do anything.”
Of course, Long Arm knew she would say that, and had his next move prepared. “And what happened immediately after that?”
“Trixie approached the group, and demanded to know what that awful witch Twilight Sparkle was doing ruining Trixie’s day, and why she had to bring her stupid Princess friends with her!” Trixie upturned her nose, giving a little toss of her mane. “Twilight may have all the glamor and status, but Trixie has true talent.”
“So you verbally confronted her,” Long Arm pressed.
“Obviously!” Trixie hissed, her stoic act starting to show cracks.
“And then what happened?” Long Arm slowly wheedled, keeping the pressure on.
“Twilight had the audacity to assert that I—that Trixie was nothing more than a petty showmare!” Trixie’s tail lashed sharply. “I had no choice but to defend my honor, and so I challenged her to a magical duel!”
“Lame. Episode rehash,” said one member of the jury.
Long Arm glanced at the jury box, and then back at his witness. “And how did that duel end, Ms. Lulamoon?” Trixie paused, turning her head to the side and saying nothing. “Ms. Lulamoon, answer the question.”
“Trixie... may have won by unorthodox tactics,” she said slowly. “When Twilight attempted to cast a spell negating all of Trixie’s magic, Trixie lept forward to engage her in melee like the proud adventuring wizards of old.”
“And then?” Long Arm said.
“Trixie pinned her, obviously!”
“And then?” he rose his voice slightly, drawing the response out of her. Finally, Trixie snapped.
“And then Trixie kissed her!” she blurted out. “Because of her stupid wings and stupid crown and stupid training and stupid friends and stupid smile and her stupid sexy rear!”
A gasp ran through the courtroom. The jury sat up and looked interested. In the front row, Twilight Sparkle blushed, looking down at the floor and folding her wings about her.
“Did you then go home with Princess Sparkle?” Long Arm asked. Trixie only nodded. “And that doesn’t strike you as odd in any way? That so soon after getting hit with an unknown spell you would assault and then go home with a pony from the marketplace?”
“Trixie’s feelings on Twilight have always been complicated!” Trixie hissed. “She humiliated Trixie in Ponyville, and then again with the Alicorn Amulet! Trixie has true talent, but all ponies can ever do is compare her to the new Princess. Twilight ruined Trixie’s life and Trixie hates her for it!” Trixie’s voice rose, and she belted out the last few words in a harsh snarl.
“But...” she paused. “Twilight also showed Trixie mercy after the Alicorn Amulet, after Trixie had been so terrible to her. And there’s just something about her. She has inspired Trixie to work harder than ever studying magic, and... and well. You can’t deny she has a certain...” Trixie flicked a bit of her mane with her hoof. “Physical appeal.”
“I think you’re cute too, Trixie,” Twilight whispered.
“Trixie doesn’t care what you think!” Trixie shouted, her voice rising over the sudden wave of whispers and speculation that ran through the courtroom. “Not even one bit! At all!”
“So you two have maintained a relationship since then?” Long Arm asked, his mouth twisting into a frown as he watched the two of them.
“We do not have a relationship.” Trixie shook her head. “We merely encounter one another on a regular basis on the magical field of honor. Wizard against wizard!”
“Do you go home with her after?” Long Arm asked.
“Trixie only does it because Twilight makes those cookies she likes!” Trixie insisted. A few ponies in the courtroom raised their hooves to their faces in shock, or turned away. “Trixie would never... like, such an irritating creature as Twilight Sparkle!”
“No further questions,” Long Arm shook his head, returning to his table. Quietly, he pitied Trixie, forced into denial by magic and then forced again to reveal that shame in front of a crowd.
“The defense may now cross examine,” Celestia said. Again, Cadence whispered into her lawyers ear. Slowly, he rose from the table, approaching the witness box.
“Ms. Lulamoon,” he opened slowly, “how would you describe Twilight Sparkle’s tail?”
“Like a wet dish rag somepony glued to her butt!” Trixie growled. Loop Hole said nothing, and after a moment she relented. “Though it is a bit... lustrous. When she flicks it just so. Trixie could never seem to keep her tail so bright.”
Cadence let out a high-pitched squeal, the pace of her writing increasing. Loop Hole shook his head. “No further questions.”
