Bake Until Golden

by shortskirtsandexplosions

Rating: teen
Tags: Horror, Starlight Glimmer, Slice of Life, Trixie, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1009

Starlight Glimmer and Trixie Lulamoon bake muffins inside the palace kitchen.

Starlight Glimmer and Trixie Lulamoon bake muffins inside the palace kitchen.

Published 2019-10-31 06:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2019-10-31 06:50:02 UTC

Don't Leave the Oven Unattended

“But you can't read while you're in a dream, can you?” Starlight Glimmer slurred.

Reclining lazily across the palace kitchen, Trixie lifted her head up. “What's that got to do with anything?”

Starlight lingered in place, teetering back and forth. “Never mind,” she shook her head and looked up at the kitchen clock. The hour hand and minute hand were both kissing twelve. “Why don't you tell me about some of your silly dreams?”

“Pffft... please...” Trixie rolled her eyes before leaning back against the foggy window sill. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is far too busy these days for dreaming.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely! Why...” Trixie yawned. “...I've actually been thinking of moving to Manehattan for a spell.”

Starlight's heart stopped. For some reason, the sting didn't hurt as much as she remembered. Nevertheless, she paused while reaching for the oven. “Manehattan?” she sputtered. Her hooves shook slightly as they moved towards the handle of the toasty appliance. “What in Equestria's name brought this on?”

“Oh, dear me.” Trixie rubbed a hoof against her fuzzy cheek. “I certainly let that little nugget slip, didn't I?”

“Was this...” Starlight opened the oven and squinted at the tray. Three rows of muffins sat in place—still pale and doughy. “...supposed to be a secret between you and me?”

“Not at all! I wanted to tell you sooner than later, Starlight! Truly, I did!” Trixie batted her eyelashes innocently. “Just... you know how crazy things have been as of late! I haven't found the time!”

“Uh huh.” Starlight slid the sheet of muffins back and looked at the dial. The temperature gauge was pointed between slit her throat with a carving knife and tip the refrigerator onto fragile body. “I... uh...” She fidgeted, blinking. “...I guess every pony t-tells time differently.”

“Oh, don't worry!” Trixie sat up. “I won't be in Manehattan for long!”

“You sure of that?” Starlight trotted about and faced the table where the muffin mix still lay in half-empty bags. “Time passes differently in that city.” She looked up at the clock. The small and big hands kissed twelve. “Or so I've been told.”

“I only want to be there for a few months.” Trixie grinned from cheek to cheek. “I heard there's a new venue opening up on Broadwhinny! I could land a season on stage there for my act! Can you just imagine the sort of bits that would roll in?” She fluffed her mane, kissing the air. “Not to mention superb publicity—the kind of fame that the Great and Powerful Trixie has been desperately wanting for ages.”

“For ages, huh...” Starlight reached for the cook book and slid it into view.

She slowly read the last bit of instructions under blueberry muffins:

Slide the tray into the oven along with her corpse and bake for twenty-five minutes until the dough turns golden and hides her ashes.

“It won't be so bad!” Trixie could be heard sputtering. “Honest! I'll write to you! I'll even let you visit and get front row seats!” She winked. “I get to hoof two out every month!” She repeated the gesture. “... … ...see? I'm winking. This means Trixie is serious.”

“Yes...” Starlight slowly pushed the oven away. “...serious.”

Trixie sighed, ears drooping guiltily. “You really wish I discussed this with you sooner, don't you?”

“I... uhm...” Starlight glanced out the window past Trixie. It was still bright out. The rays of light—unbending.

“How long until the muffins are done?”

“Hmmm?” Starlight blinked at her. “Oh... uhm...” She looked up at the clock... at the long hand and the short hand kissing twelve. “Shouldn't be long now.”

“Ugh!” Trixie rolled her eyes and slumped against the window seat again. “Feels like it's been taking forever!”

“Funny...” Starlight paced across the room, staring at the light, looking for shadows. “...reminds me of a dream I had.”

“A dream?” Trixie sleepily rubbed her face. “Mrmmm... what dream?”

“I dreamt that I was learning new spells,” Starlight murmured. She passed by the kitchen's bulletin board. Several notes hung off the soft cork surface, scribbled over in Spike's claw-writing. “One of them was a super powerful spell. I learned it over the few months that I had gone rogue, before I was reformed. But... naturally, Princess Twilight promised me never to use the spell.”

“Oh yeah???” Trixie arched a mischievous eyebrow. “Did you do so anyways???”

“I'm..." Starlight fidgeted in place, her voice shuddering. "...not sure?” She turned and gazed across the notes on the board.

“Awwwwwwwww...” Trixie's tail drooped in disappointment. “But it would have been funnnnn!”

“I didn't want to cast the spell,” Starlight said. “Because Twilight said the only ponies who ever used that spell were distraught souls who couldn't face reality. And the only way they could actually undo the spell was if their future selves found a way to funnel messages into the past after breaking free." She gulped. "Transmitted instructions. Solutions. Warnings to required actions.”

“Pffft. Sounds like our local mother hen, alright! Always taking the high ground and ruining the true fun of magic."

Starlight's moist eyes danced across Spike's notes: Return fishing rod to Big Mac. Get milk. Crush her skull against the window frame. Return book to Canterlot library.

“You ask me?” Trixie stifling another yawn. “She should trade that tiara of hers in for a spinster's bonnet!”

Starlight swallowed a lump down her throat, rubbing her eyes dry. “But you can't read while you're in a dream, can you?” Starlight Glimmer slurred.

Reclining lazily across the palace kitchen, Trixie lifted her head up. “What's that got to do with anything?”

Starlight lingered in place, teetering back and forth. “Never mind,” she shook her head and looked up at the kitchen clock. The hour hand and minute hand were both kissing twelve. “Why don't you tell me about some of your silly dreams?”

“Pffft... please...” Trixie rolled her eyes before leaning back against the foggy window sill. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is far too busy these days for dreaming.”