15 Days Before Hearth’s Warming
Trixie didn’t usually like spellbooks. Many were written in a deliberately cryptic way to make the author seem smarter than they probably were. Those who resisted that urge still used such dry, clinical language that they sucked all the wonder out of magic, leaving nothing but equations and diagrams that worked better as aids for sleep than study.
But she had a goal to pursue, and the only way to see it through was to tough out the kind of thing she’d expect from—
“Print Run’s Typographie for Wizzerds?”
Trixie felt an eyebrow twitch. Strictly speaking, Namepending Castle wasn’t a residential building. Strictly speaking, Trixie’s place of residence was still the caravan, with all the tax credits that that implied. Strictly speaking, the library was open to the public.
She was only a year and a half into her career as a school counselor, but she'd learned long ago that when somepony was speaking strictly, they were usually full of horse apples. This was her home, these were her books, and she expected some degree with privacy with them.
Unfortunately, strictly speaking, the mare who’d snuck up on her was the one who’d bought most of those books.
“Sparkle,” she muttered, not looking away from Print Run's crime against comprehensibility.
“Trixie." Sparkle audibly forced some false cheer into her tone. "Need any help?”
“Trixie is fine, Sparkle.” Trixie also resisted the urge to turn the book upside down. And possibly shake it until some of the verb tenses decided to cooperate.
“Just asking." Trixie was well familiar with the sound of savoring another pony's humiliation. That only made her hate it even more when it came from somepony else. "This is advanced stuff, even before working through the misspellings.”
That got her to look up at Sparkle, who at least had the decency to police her expression, if not her tone. “If Trixie wants your help, she’ll let you know.”
Sparkle's ears folded back. “Trixie, I spent the last five moons doing more political maneuvering than I want to for the next five years, all so I could spend a Hearth’s Warming in Ponyville. Can we at least try to get along?”
“Exactly. It’s Hearth’s Warming." Trixie spread her hooves to take in the tinsel along the top shelves. "It’s practically tradition to have two members of the family who don’t talk to one another, even in found families.”
"Come on, it'll be fun." Sparkle plopped herself down next to Trixie at the reading table, grinning ear to ear. "I hardly ever get to help somepony expand their magical horizons."
Trixie stood, book in telekinetic tow. “No means no, Sparkle.”
"I'm just trying to help." Vastly more powerful magic effortlessly pulled the tome out of Trixie's grip. "Here, I can—"
“Twilight."
Everything in the library went still. Even Sparkle's field bubble seemed to slow down.
Trixie continued. No sense in letting that kind of attention grab go to waste. "I will say this as clearly as possible: I am working on something. I want to do it on my own. I need to focus. You don’t have to try to fix our nonexistent friendship." She glared at her best guess of where the map room was in the eternal jumble that was Namepending. "And that goes double for any bright ideas your old coffee table might get.”
“Fine," said Sparkle, an equally acidic glare seeping through her princessly facade as she shelved Typographie for Wizzerds. "Don’t blame me if the Map does try to take matters into its own hooves.”
Trixie smirked. “Not that it has hooves.”
“Good luck with your research,” said Sparkle, composure restored, though one corner of her mouth still twitched.
Trixie couldn't say if it was out of fury or amusement, and didn't feel like hanging around to find out. She just dipped her head, said “Thank you” as neutrally as she could manage, and got out of Dodge.
13 Days Before Hearth’s Warming
The Canterlot Archives were hailed as the most comprehensive collection of knowledge on every subject known to ponykind, and those known to several other species besides. Rumors spoke of secret reading rooms filled with information lost to Equestria, or too dangerous to find in the first place. The right route through the wrong aisles was said to lead beyond space, time, and the Dewdrop Decimal System; beyond lay a realm of innumerable books smelling faintly of bananas, where there still wasn’t enough shelf space.
Trixie had spouted enough hype to know when to ignore somepony else’s. Right now, she just needed the main reading room and an unexpurgated edition of Black Powder’s Rapid Scheduled Disassembly. It was a much more engaging read than anything Print Run had ever put out, not least because it had been written after dictionaries had made some effort to standardize Equish spelling.
Besides, the scorch marks added character and a lovely bit of nostalgia.
The cleared throat behind Trixie brought up much less pleasant memories. She tried to focus on enjoyably irresponsible things one could do with nitrogen. Maybe the noise had been directed towards somepony else.
“A-hem.”
Nope, said Trixie’s demeanor, radiating innocence and inconspicuousness. Nothing wrong here. Just a mare with a healthy interest in rapid oxidation.
“Miss Lulamoon.”
“So much for that,” Trixie muttered. She looked up to see a bespectacled green unicorn mare glaring at her, a scroll by the other mare’s side in bright turquoise magic. “Can I help you?”
The other mare turned the scroll, letting Trixie see her own, much younger face, her cutie mark, and a paragraph of trumped-up charges that nopony could actually prove. “Miss Lulamoon," the mare said quietly but sternly, "what exactly did you think the term ‘lifetime ban’ meant?”
No use denying it with the documentation in her face. That left pure chutzpah. “The lifetime of the mare who banned Trixie. Or at least the lifetime of her career." Trixie leaned on the table, her smirking face resting on a forehoof. "How is Dusty Pages?”
The librarian—had to be, nopony else could manage that level of Sparklish self-importance around books—thrust a hoof towards the huge double doors. “Get out.”
Trixie blinked, nearly falling off her seat at the refusal to play the game. “But I was just—”
“Out,” the mare somehow shouted without actually raising her voice.
That left Trixie's ace in the hole. “It’s a friendship—”
“If you do not begin leaving this library in the next ten seconds, I have the authority to eject you by force, magical or physical.”
That left Trixie's other ace in the hole. She drew herself up with all the heckler-honed self-importance she could muster. “Trixie will have you know that she is a close, personal adversary of Princess Twilight, and she—”
Which was when the librarian teleported Trixie to just outside the main doors of the Archives.
Upside-down.
"Oof!"
And three feet above the ground.
*DISCONTINUITY* Days Before Hearth’s Warming
As was the case in so many other ways, the library of Canterlot High was a pale reflection of its equivalent in Equestria... on the surface. As with its analogue, it held a far vaster invisible library, this one far more than rumors spread by bleary-eyed undergrads.
But Trixie had no need for such power, not today. A dusty copy of Turnip Test's Principles of Machine Logic would suffice. The electric thinking machines of this world operated similarly enough to magic at their core that the same principles could apply to spell arrays. It was just a matter of transposing the fundamentals from one to another, the bizarre mini-legs forced on her by this world proving helpful for taking notes—
"Trixie?"
—or pinching the bridge of her absurdly shortened muzzle. "What. Is it. Snips?"
"What're you doin' here, eh?" drawled this dimension's even lankier answer to Snails.
"We thought you graduated!" added Snips, whose growth spurt seemed to have gotten lost in the mail.
Snails gasped. "Did Principal Celestia really hold you back after you set off the fireworks at the ceremony?"
"It was so awesome, though!" It truly was amazing how Snips's gushing could go from endearing to aggravating to endearing again multiple times in the same conversation.
"Even if your robe caught on fire."
"What do you mean, 'even'? That was the best part!"
Trixie took a deep breath. "Look, you two, Trixie is doing some very important work here—"
"The day before Yuletide break?" Snails whistled, which Trixie didn't think his pony analogue could manage. "Wow, you really did get held back."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, sure, whatever. Just let Trixie focus on this before—"
A shadow loomed over Trixie, cutting her off. Part of her noted that it didn't really make sense given the overhead lighting. The rest was just trying not to scream. "Miss Lulamoon?"
Screaming was one thing. Slamming the desk with her face out of frustration, Trixie could live with. "Before anyone else notices."
"Snips, Snails?" said the dreadfully familiar voice. "Some privacy, please."
Two "Yes, ma'ams" preceded the hangers-on shuffling away.
That just left Trixie and her latest audience. "I distinctly recall a certain young woman declaring that she would never again set foot in this... how did she put it? 'Temple to witless mediocrity and stifling banality'? Something along those lines."
"That may or may not have been something Trixie said," said Trixie, who had definitely said that, if in a different so-called school. She finally looked up at the human Luna's glaring face, only slightly less terrifying than its equine counterpart. "But as it happens—"
Human Luna shook her head. "Don't bother, Miss Lulamoon. While I can't claim we have been entirely free of magical incidents since Sunset Shimmer and company graduated, they have been blessedly less frequent. Some have even been open to negotiation."
Trixie quirked an eyebrow. "Your point being?"
"The holidays are approaching, and I would greatly appreciate it if I didn't have to spend them filling out the paperwork for whatever you have planned."
"I'm not even planning anything in this stupid universe!" Trixie cried, jumping to her feet. The librarian wisely acted like she didn't notice anything. "I just need to study something you jumped-up monkeys do better than us. Isn't that what a school is for?"
Luna looked thoroughly unimpressed. "A school is for its students, Miss Lulamoon. People are discussing procedures for visitors from and perhaps even to Equestria, but they have yet to settle on any course of action. Speaking personally, I am immensely grateful that I'm not involved. For now, I ask that you return to your world." She glanced at the book still on the table. "Preferably without knowledge it may not yet be ready for."
Trixie crossed her mutated forelegs. "And if I refuse?"
It happened faster than she could track. One moment she was looking up at the Vice Principal of the Night. The next, she was face-down on the carpet, one foreleg bent behind her and one of Luna's pressing against her windpipe.
"Hey!" cried Trixie, though it came out more as "Grkl."
"Some of our recent magical incidents were open to negotiation," Luna said far too calmly. "Many more were open to my self-defense classes."
Trixie managed to wriggle enough to free up her breathing. "You are so lucky I don't have a horn right—" Luna pulled a little tighter on her foreleg. "Ah! Uncle, uncle!"
The hold relaxed, but still remained. "Yet another strange parallel between our worlds. I trust we have an understanding?"
"Yes, yes, I get it!"
Only then did Luna let her go. Trixie stood shakily, rubbing her fetlocks and shooting a sour look at the librarian who still hadn't gotten involved. "Yeesh, and I thought our Luna was creepy."
That got an eye roll. "At least you haven't had to deal with horse-Celestia crashing on your couch because she got bored in her own world. No idea how she learned how break a full nelson..."
8 Days Before Hearth’s Warming
The School of Friendship's library wasn't quite on the same level as the castle's, but it was close. The biggest difference was that the school library lacked the kind of tomes that could reduce the whole building to smithereens, insurance claims, and an insufferable "Told you so" op-ed from Neighsay on how this never would've happened if he were still chancellor of the EEA.
Trixie had to admit, in the rare moments when Sparkle indulged her pettiness, she did so with style.
In any case, with the more volatile texts unavailable and underground access to the Tree of Harmony's regrowing root system requiring a signed permission slip from the headmare (for both the visitor and the Tree,) Trixie focused on reviewing the fundamental aspects of spellcraft that would bind together her project. That kind of tedious abacus-and-protractor work made Trixie want to break off her own horn, but she knew it would all be worth it.
"Trixie?"
Trixie had never thought she'd grow tired of the sound of her own name. Getting into education truly had broadened her horizons.
"What. Is it. Sunburst?"
To her astonishment, he stood firm. The assistant headstallion usually cowered before Trixie, but now he just looked unimpressed. "We need to talk."
Trixie blinked. "We do?"
"Yes." Sunburst gave a meaningful look around the room and the friendship students who had paused their own studies to watch the spectacle. "And I think you'd prefer this conversation in private."
After a moment of considering his expression, the most serious Trixie had seen him since Flurry Heart's last visit, she sighed and nodded. "Fine. Just let me check this out. Sparkle will never let me hear the end of it otherwise."
Somehow, that only seemed to make Sunburst angrier. Trixie couldn't make sense of it. He was the resident bookhorse on the staff with Sparkle gone. Surely he'd appreciate that kind of commitment to protocol.
His office only underscored the point once they arrived there. The place practically had more shelves than the library itself, some almost audibly groaning under the sheer mass they had to support. Yet the sight of so much to read brought Sunburst no apparent joy. He just sat behind his desk, tented his hooves, and scowled at Trixie like she refused to be filed correctly. Light reflected off his glasses, leaving him an unreadable pillar of frustrated authority.
She rolled her eyes. "Save me the theatrics, Sunburst, we both know I'm better at them."
"Fine. I've been getting complaints from some of the students about how you've been handling their sessions."
Trixie flinched back. "You have!?"
"You've been dismissive. Distracted. We have young creatures going through some of the roughest parts of their lives here, students who depend on you as their emotional rock." Sunburst nodded to the book still in Trixie's magical grip. "You're not the only pony who'd rather curl up with a hot cup of cocoa and Quincunx's Auspicious Arcane Geometry, but we both have jobs to do here."
Trixie gulped. "Have you told Starlight?"
That got an incredulous stare. "Trixie—"
"I'm not just trying to cover my tail here. And I really didn't mean to blow off any of the students. I've just been trying to perfect Starlight's Hearth's Warming present."
Sunburst tilted his head. "Didn't you get her a gift certificate last year?"
"Exactly!" Trixie cried, starting to pace about the office. "She gave my life meaning beyond a cheering crowd, and all I got her in return was fifty bits she could only spend at Barnyard Bargains."
"She loved that gift certificate. Starlight hates ponies trying to tell her what she wants."
"Look, I haven't put this much effort into something since my last royal pardon. This spell has to be perfect. It's for her!" Trixie's head dipped. "I just... don't have everything I need. Not yet."
Sunburst drummed his hooves on his desk. Trixie looked up to see him staring at the ceiling in thought. After a few moments, he nodded to himself. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"I can help—"
Trixie shook her head. "No, this has to be from me. If I can't do it... Starlight's actually great and powerful, Sunburst. If I can't pull off something to amaze her, what's the point?"
He smiled. "I can help you get what you need in order to do it yourself."
"What do you mean?"
Sunburst just kept smiling, inscrutable as the Pink One. "We're very lucky that Spike's in Ponyville. I'm not sure if we'd have the time to make this work otherwise."
Trixie reared up, slamming her hooves on his desk. "Sunburst, I've been playing up the wise, enigmatic angle for some of the students, and I can pull that off a lot better than you too. Tell me what you're planning."
He rolled his eyes. "No, please, no need to thank me. First off..."
5 Days Before Hearth’s Warming
Trixie had never been to the Crystal Empire before. Walking through frozen tundra for days on end had never been an option, and even if she could have fit a train ticket into her budget, the train wouldn't have been able to fit her caravan. Besides that, an act built around the glorious exploits of a grandiose unicorn probably wouldn't go over well in Sombra's old stomping grounds.
Technically, she could've gone as a tourist in recent moons, but Trixie did not gawk. Trixie caused gawking. It was the principle of the thing. She certainly wasn't gawking at the shelves of the Imperial Crystal Library or whatever it was actually called; the name was engraved on the door, but Trixie couldn't read Crystalese.
The thought occurred that that might be an impediment in a library. Especially one with at least three stories of translucent blue shelves stuffed to the gills with Cadence-knew-what.
Trixie turned to Princess Cadence, who hopefully knew what. "Uh, about that writing over the door."
"Ancient yak runes," the alicorn said with an easy grace that Twilight Sparkle could only dream of. She went further into the library, Trixie trying to keep up with that longer stride without looking like she was hurrying. "Nopony's entirely sure why they're there, but there's no need to take them down. Especially when Ambassador Horwitz says they're an ancient benediction praising those who smash ignorance."
Trixie nodded. "I've heard the same sort of thing from Yona." She glanced at the mare who, again, was the model of casual elegance and comfort in her own coat that Sparkle could only aspire towards. "Are you sure you have the time to help me personally?"
"I know you and Twilight have had your differences, but Sunburst had nothing but kind words for you in his letter." Cadence smiled in a way that made Trixie immediately want to like and trust her. Trixie hated that and kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Besides, I can feel the love driving you. The moment you showed up in my throne room, I knew I had to see to this personally."
"Um, well..." Just for a moment, Trixie considered that she might have become a bit jaded during her time on the road. "Thanks." She browsed unfamiliar titles and authors for a few moments, which was all her curiosity could tolerate. "What does my love feel like, anyway?"
Cadence shrugged her wings. "I've never been able to explain it properly to another creature, not even changelings." She took in Trixie, narrowing her eyes and humming to herself. "You have this... strawberry luminescence to you, with warm, crunchy flashes in a major chord around the edges."
At this point, Trixie remembered that this was the mare who'd married Sparkle's brother, and thus was likely insane. "No offense, but I'm just going to chalk that up to alicorn weirdness."
That got a chuckle. "That's how I deal with it." Cadence began to look about the library. "Now, Sunburst said you had this mostly figured out. Everything in his collection that he didn't bring to Ponyville ended up here, so you should have resources both ancient and modern at your disposal. And me, for however much help I can be."
Trixie's pride wanted to insist she do this on her own. The rest of her had its attention stolen by the put-down. "But you're an alicorn."
Another wing-shrug. "One that used to be a pegasus. Back when I foalsat Twilight, she was the one giving me pointers."
"Of course," Trixie grumbled. "Because Sparkle's just that amazing." She narrowed her eyes at Cadence's pitying expression. "I know that look."
"What look?" It might have sounded disingenuous from other ponies, but Cadence didn't seem to have a disingenuous bone in her body.
"The 'friendship problem' look. Sparkle has it whenever she thinks I'm not looking." Trixie nickered in frustration. "I'm not a pony to her, I'm a box on a checklist. An equation to solve. A challenge to her stupid title. She doesn't actually like me, she just tells herself she should." She glared at Cadence. "And don't you dare tell me it's actually a love problem."
Cadence shook her head. "It isn't. You two do have a lot of baggage to sort out, but now isn't the time, and it's not my place to do so. Why don't we focus on who you're doing this for?"
"Right." Trixie took a deep breath. "Right. Starlight. It's..." She imagined the mare, and her patter ran dry for a moment. "I need to make this work. To put in even one tenth as much effort as she has with me. To show her I'm worth it."
"Love isn't transactional, Trixie. You're worth it to her because you're you."
"That sounds nice on a greeting card, Your Highness, but it's not enough for me. I need this to be perfect." Trixie trotted to one of the study tables. Paper and some kind of crystal stylus were already there; she grabbed some and began drawing out the parts of the diagram she'd already figured out. "I should have all the pieces. I just need to bring them together into something I can actually cast."
Cadence said nothing for a while, just watching Trixie work. Though half the time, she was watching Trixie herself. Cadence's ears twitched, her nostrils flared, her horn lit up a few times with no sign of any spells. In time, she smacked her lips, nodded to herself, and grabbed a book off of the second-floor shelves without even looking. "I have an idea," she said as the tome hit the table.
"The Manifold Symmetries?" said Trixie. "Never heard of it. Or this 'Princess Amore.'"
"That's a long story," said Cadence, expression unreadable. "Right now, all you need to know is her research into the Crystal Heart, and how other crystals resonated with emotions."
Trixie blinked as she flipped open the book. "Wait, so—"
"If you're going to say this right, you'll need to say it with love."
Hearth’s Warming Eve
The only books in the caravan were a ledger, a few cookbooks, last year's nationwide weather schedule, and a saddle-ripper in a hidden compartment that Trixie would deny owning to her dying breath. There were usually a few pop-arcana books she kept for casual reading, but tonight, even those got left at the castle. Tonight, it was just her, Starlight, a thermal flask full of Starlight's empathy cocoa, and the winter stars. It was peaceful. It was beautiful.
It was almost midnight and Trixie was trying not to squirm.
"I hope you didn't ask me out here to try to capture the spirit of Chancellor Puddinghead," Starlight said with a smile.
Trixie scoffed and had to stop herself from turning it into a Rarity-level event out of nerves. "Trixie isn't that immature."
"Good. He made me promise to stop after I almost leveled Sire's Hollow when I was seven."
"Wait, what?"
"Oh, look at the time!" Starlight clinked her mug of cocoa against Trixie's. "Happy Hearth's Warming, Trixie."
"Happy Hearth's Warming, Starlight." Trixie threw back her mug and set it down.
"Easy there. There's plenty left."
Trixie took a deep breath and shut her eyes. "I need to focus."
She could still hear the concern in Starlight's voice. "On what?"
But Trixie paid that no heed. She focused on the staged charges, the way charged thaums would need to move from moment to moment, the mind-strainingly complex processes that were still simpler than trying to plot out every second of what was to come in one go.
"Trixie?"
Most of all, she focused on the warmth of the mare sitting next to her, the trust they had in one another, the burning need to make that mare smile. Heat built in Trixie's heart as much as her horn, and she imagined a thread connecting them. Her body went rigid from horn to tail, and the rest of the spell flew into place like it was casting itself.
"Trixie?" Out of the corner of one shocked-open eye, Trixie could see Starlight standing, her own horn aglow. "I'm not sure what you're doing, but—"
The spell launched from Trixie's horn to the mortar she'd loaded on the roof before setting out. The charged firework launched with a piercing whistle, screaming up into the sky and fading like a star at dawn. Her thoughts raced as she tried to figure out what went wrong.
A moment later, the answer turned out to be "Nothing."
Explosions filled the sky with sparks, first displaying Trixie's own shimmering wand cutie mark before the trail of sparkles shifted and wove themselves into Starlight's falling star. Another wave of bursts captured scenes from Trixie's memories: The first time they met, the Moonshot Manticore Mouth Dive, the raid on Chrysalis's hive, one after the other until it settled on the two of them moments before, sitting beside one another and looking up at the sky, cocoa in tow.
Finally, one last burst captured Starlight's amazed face as it was at that very moment, framed in a heart, down to her blinking and darting eyes as she tried to figure out how it was working. But it faded a few seconds later, leaving a message written in glitter across the sky:
STARLIGHT GLIMMER,
WILL YOU MARRY ME?
Trixie finally dared to turn to Starlight, who still stared up at the message in wonder. A few moments later, that wonder gave way to confusion, then amusement. She turned to Trixie, whose stomach was doing flips all the while.
And the love of Trixie's life said, “Trixie, we’ve been married for two years.”
Trixie threw up her forelegs. “And it’s not fair that you proposed first! By just asking!”
“I thought if I got it out of the way, I wouldn’t overthink it!” Starlight cried on the verge of laughter.
“A marriage proposal isn’t something you just get out of the way!" Trixie thrust a hoof at the fruit of her labor. "It’s a production! A presentation! A chance to show your special somepony everything they mean to you!”
Starlight smirked. “You still said yes.”
“Of course I did; you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me." Trixie immediately resumed her righteous indignation. "But where was the grandeur? The showponyship? The greatness and power? We deserve better than that." She settled back down, resting her head on Starlight's withers. "You certainly do.”
“So you did all this?" Starlight looked up towards the roof. "I admit, it is an impressive bit of spellcraft.”
“It wasn’t easy. Trial and error wasn’t an option, not if I wanted to keep this a surprise. I had to do a lot of research to make sure everything would actually work.”
Starlight blinked. “You actually hit the books?”
“It was for Trixie’s Great and Powerful Assistant. More than worth it.”
“I love you too, Trixie.”
They kissed, savoring the other's presence and the magical, harmonious thrum of the holiday.
A short while later, Starlight looked at the marriage proposal still hanging in the air overhead. “So… Not to sound ungrateful, but how long will this last?”
“Trixie’s wondering that herself," wondered Trixie, pouring herself another cup of cocoa. "Like I said, I never actually tested this spell.”
Starlight's ears folded back. “You..." She gulped and, in the far too familiar tone she used when one of her own spells went awry, said, "You don’t think it’s permanent do you?”
“Mrs. Lulamoon!”
Both mares turned to see an irate Mayor Mare tromping through the snow, quite a feat given that Trixie had taken them a ways away from Ponyville specifically because of the untested spell... though not that far in terms of airspace.
“Let’s hope it isn't," said Trixie. "After all that research, I never had time to clear this with Town Hall.”
Author's Note
We're going with the idea from the comics that Trixie attended Celestia's school, however briefly.
The pony kicking Trixie out of the Archives is the librarian seen in "The Point of No Return," dubbed "Bellflower Blurb" by the folks at Derpibooru.
Horwitz is likewise from the IDW comics (specifically issues #61 and #62 of the main FiM line,) and one of the few canon yak characters whose name doesn't begin with a Y.
Amore is mentioned in several secondary sources and strongly implied to be Cadence's ancestor. Possibly even her mother depending on one's fanon and taste for timey-wimey shenanigans.
Merry Jinglemas, all. Hope you had someone to celebrate it with, family or otherwise.
