Even A Princess Needs A Break
"Okay, that's good… but how do I follow up on it…? C'mon, filly, don't begin with the climax…"
Trixie Lulamoon, traveling showpony extraordinaire and part-time troublemaker (although she'd insist that she didn't so much start it as just had the misfortune of getting into it all the time) stared at her notes, chewing absentmindedly on the pencil nub in her mouth. A fat wax candle cast a warm glow over the room from its mount at the ceiling.
Coming up with performance routines was a challenge. True, she could improvise like nopony's business if she needed to – her longest routine to date had lasted from dusk 'til dawn, and she had been beyond exhausted afterwards – but she liked to plan ahead and prepare when she could. It was better that way; lining up acts so they flowed properly, one leading into the other and keeping the audience's excitement steady and rising. Inventing new acts, too. Stale acts were dead acts, and dead acts put you out of the business.
She spat out the pencil and pushed the papers aside, the motion making her single candle flicker. Most of it was illegible scrawls, ideas and brainstorming notes like "Fly!", "Fireworks that look like dragons!" and "Death-defying stunt!"; not so much a complete plan as just a lot of fun ideas, which she'd then (figuratively) throw at the wall to see which ones stuck. And she wasn't really getting any further right now, anyway. Time for a break. Or possibly turn in for the night, since it was getting late. She wasn't really tired yet, but she didn't like running herself into the ground. That's how you got early wrinkles.
There was suddenly a knock on the door of her wagon home. She looked up. Another, and another. Heavy, tired strikes. Familiar. It seemed she'd get her break after all.
She walked over and swung the door open on well-oiled hinges. As expected, the pony outside was familiar indeed. "Twilight." It might have been a greeting, or an observation, or just a word.
The lavender alicorn looked tired. Haggard. Worn out. Definitely getting early wrinkles. She stared with bleary eyes at the azure magician, up on her elevated position. "Trixie," she said in return.
Wordlessly, Trixie stepped aside and allowed Twilight in, shutting the door while her guest shook the evening cold from her coat. Twilight stalked further into the cozy living space before unceremoniously collapsing on Trixie's bed. She buried her head in the pillow and let out a pained groan.
"Rough day?" Trixie asked wryly.
Twilight sighed. "Try rough week. No, rough month."
"Mm-hm," Trixie hummed. She picked up her notes and stationery and put them away in a drawer; she wouldn't get more work done tonight anyway.
"It never stops," Twilight lamented. "It's always 'Princess, do this', 'Princess, do that', 'Princess, sign this', 'Princess, approve that'. 'Decide this for us', 'settle this for us', 'solve this for us'…"
"Mmm-hm," Trixie hummed. She sat down beside Twilight and pulled the other mare's head in her lap.
"If it's not friendship problems, it's diplomatic matters," Twilight continued as Trixie cradled her head in her hooves. "If it's not that, it's legal decisions, or zoning debates, or bureaucratic nonsense, or… other stuff."
"'Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown'," Trixie noted. "Sharp Spear, King Cobalt IV." She ran a hoof along Twilight's neck, prodding at it gently and seeking out the tight knots of tense muscle.
"Yes… ooooh…" Twilight let out a deep moan as Trixie began rubbing her neck. The young alicorn slumped further as she relaxed and the tension drained out of her. Trixie's hooves were strong, but far from rough. Just right. "Oh, that's good, that's so good… oh… I don't regret becoming a princess, Trixie. I have… ah… a lot to give Equestria, and it feels good…" She rested her head against Trixie's belly, sighing. "You know, to help others. To know that I've done something to make their lives better."
"Doing good can feel good, yes. But it gets a bit much, doesn't it?" Trixie said softly. She planted a light kiss on Twilight's forehead. "You're so very… you. You take on every burden, no matter how big, even if it breaks you."
"Yeah…" Twilight moaned, her words taking on a drowsy undertone. If Trixie hadn't known better, she'd have guessed that Twilight was getting drunk. Or maybe in a way she was. "I don't want to. But I have to. Sometimes it feels like everypony else stops thinking just because I'm there to do it for them…"
"What about your friends?" Trixie asked. She gently stroked Twilight's long, slender horn, tracing the ridges with her hoof.
"They're… better," Twilight admitted. "They're my friends, they're always there for me… but they still look up to me. I'm the smart one, the one who knows what to do, the one who never fails." She let out a snort that sounded far less ladylike than her station would require. "'Since when does Twilight Sparkle ever fail?'" she sang. "Rainbow Dash said that one time. Gee, how often do I fail? I could make a list. She should know better."
"Yes, she should," Trixie said. She suddenly hugged Twilight tighter, surprising the bigger mare. "After all, you're just a pony, just like the rest of us."
"I wish more ponies realized that…" Twilight breathed. This close, her heart could be felt beating right into Trixie's chest. It was almost musical. "I wish…"
Trixie nuzzled her softly, her warm breath steamy against Twilight's neck. "You don't have to," she said. "Tonight… here… you can be just a pony with me. Would you like that?"
Twilight said nothing, but her silence spoke a book's worth of words. With an wan smile, Trixie snuffed out the candle.
A gentle prod shook her awake. "Breakfast is ready, sleepyhead."
Twilight blinked the last of the sleep out of her eyes, taking in the sight of the wagon home. With morning sunlight streaming through the windows and illuminating everything, the place looked so different from last night; less mysterious and ambient, and more like a regular home. It was still cozy, though.
A greasy smell hung in the air. "Pancakes?" Twilight asked hopefully.
"Pancakes," Trixie said, floating over a plate with the golden-brown treats, slathered in jam and whipped cream. "Enjoy." She sat down on the side of the bed with her own plate.
"You don't have to serve me, you know," Twilight said as she sat up in bed, taking up a fork and digging in with gusto. She was surprisingly hungry.
"Eh, breakfast in bed is a nice treat," Trixie said. She took up a morsel from her own plate and swallowed it. "The Gracious and Hospitable Trixie enjoys treating her guests when she can. Coffee?" She floated over a steaming pot of liquid wakefulness.
Twilight smiled. "Well, if it's for your own enjoyment…"
They continued eating in silence, enjoying the meal and the peace. Finally Twilight broke the silence again. "Thanks for last night."
"Anytime, Twilight," Trixie replied casually. "After everything I've put you through, it's the least I could do."
"No, the least you could do would have been to tell me to leave and slam the door in my face," Twilight said. "You don't have to put up with me and my problems and my stress and… everything."
Trixie shrugged. "Maybe I like to put up with you. Maybe I like to be reminded of who you really are, despite everything. Maybe I like being the one you turn to, over all your friends and princesses." She sighed and smiled wistfully. "Maybe I like to show this side of myself once in a while."
"It is a good side, Trixie," Twilight said. "You could use it more often."
Trixie shook her head. "No. I'm a performer, and my audience wants to see the Great and Powerful Trixie, not… this one. Once in a while, with you, is enough."
"So I'm not the only pony here who needs a bit of relief?" Twilight suggested.
Trixie let out a sharp laugh. "Hah! Of course not! What, you think you're some kind of unique and special case?"
Twilight laughed in return. "No, I suppose not." She finished off the pancakes, carefully scooping up the last dregs of jam and cream and swallowing it. Rarity would say something about how a… pony of her stature should watch what she ate, but Trixie didn't so much as bat an eye. "I need to get going. Sorry." She climbed off the bed and stretched her legs tentatively. She could feel where the usual aches and twinges would be, but for now, a night of tender care had wiped them away.
"Equestria calls, and you answer," Trixie said. "Will you be okay?"
Twilight stalked over to the door and was about to push it open when she paused. "…Yeah. For now. But I can see you again if I need to, right?"
"Of course," Trixie said. "Anytime."
Twilight smiled with relief. "Then I'll see you again… anytime." And with that she pushed the door open, and Princess Twilight Sparkle headed out into the world.
