Great and Powerful Comeback Tour, One Night Onlyby BandyChaptersChapter FourChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourWhen the griffon guards finished peeling prince Pelayo off the wall, when the Equestrian colors once again flew over the castle, when the holes in the throne room ceiling had been repaired, Twilight and Trixie sat down on the steps to the throne and did something they hadn’t done in years: had a chat. “The Humble and Penitent Trixie would like to formally apologize,” Trixie said. “She was being a touch pigheaded.” “I would also like to apologize,” Twilight replied. “If I hadn’t assigned motives to your actions, we could have saved a lot of money in repair costs.” She paused. “And I was really mean to you, and that wasn’t very friendship princeessly of me.” They shook hooves and shared a smile. It felt nice to be back on solid ground. “So what do we do about the picture?” Trixie asked. “All of Canterlot thinks we’re dating again.” “We counter the narrative. We can say the image was a marketing stunt for your show here.” Trixie gave her an inscrutable look. “Nothing more?” Twilight smiled. “Nothing more. Getting married to you was one of the most interesting moments of my life, but it was also one of my biggest mistakes. We are deeply flawed as a couple.” Twilight took Trixie’s hoof in hers. “I hope I’m not breaking your heart a second time by saying that.” “Actually? All this adventuring we did today led me to the same answer. Our marriage was ill-informed. Life-affirming. But ill-informed.” They shook hooves again, and the smiles on their faces were deeper this time. Their eyes radiated a newfound sense of respect that hadn’t existed between them, even in marriage. “So,” Trixie said, “I don’t know if you noticed, but our little marketing stunt got quite popular.” “I did notice that.” “This might be the kick the Great and Powerful Trixie needs to come out of retirement in a more meaningful way. I’m thinking comeback tour.” “That sounds amazing. Do you really think you can pull it off?” “Puh-lease. You couldn’t buy this kind of marketing if you had the keys to the castle treasury. And speaking of treasure, I have fallen on a sudden unexpected windfall of liquid cash, and I know exactly the kind of tour cart I want to blow it on." "Cash? Did you steal Pelayo’s wallet while we were beating him up?" Trixie chuckled. She pulled from beneath her cape a bulging leather coinpurse with prince Pelayo’s seal stamped on the side. “Thank our northern friend for his generosity.” “You're kidding. You actually robbed him?” “Trixie is above common thievery. She was paid in full in advance.” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You mean...” “I lied! My secret benefactor was no more a secret to me than all your disgusting habits were a week after we were wed. Pelayo hired me as a distraction. I was paid to waltz in, be myself, and then throw you in the wood chipper for real.” The pleasant smile on Twilight’s face slowly melted away. “For real,” she repeated slowly, her jaw moving as if chewing on something bitter. “As in—” “As in, no portals, right into the blades. But I didn’t! Despite it all, Trixie is no murderer. She decided it would be much more beneficial for her mystique to be a double agent. So I portaled you out, faked both of our deaths, and singlehoofedly saved the day.” “You...” Twilight rubbed her temples. “You could have just told me he was trying to coup me. I put a hole in a twelve hundred year old roof. I almost broke several priceless stained glass windows. I broke every bone in prince Pelayo’s body and set pony-griffon relations back fifty years.” Trixie squinted at Twilight like she was the stupidest mare alive. In a slow, teacherly voice, she explained, “It does not suit the Great and Powerful Trixie’s career comeback to be conventional. I could have tattled, and that would have achieved the same goal. But now every newspaper in Equestria is going to be writing about the ex-lovers reunited in a die-hard race against time.” Trixie winked. “The tickets basically sell themselves.” Twilight let out a long sigh. “I wish I could divorce you twice.” Chapter OneThe reappearance of the Great and Powerful Trixie sent shockwaves through Canterlot. Paparazzi and nobles alike swarmed her as she exited her carriage, peppering her with pointed questions and snapping photographs. “Pictures are twenty bits a piece!” she said over the din, her voice carrying effortlessly despite her age. “Settle up with my security team or we reserve the right to stomp your cameras. Thank youuu~” The royal guard should never have let her pass. Today was not an open court day, and she hadn’t held castle clearance for over a decade. But word traveled fast in Canterlot. Sometimes a princess made a decision, and the consequences of that decision showed up at the front gates wearing a tight-fitting leotard and a cape before word could be passed down to the rank-and file. No one wanted to be the guard to get in the way of a princess's love life. They lifted their spears. The sound of pandemonium and the methodical crunch, crunch, crunch of cameras being smashed followed Trixie inside. “This must be her doing,” Twilight said as she paced the length of her office. “Trixie cooked up some scheme to relaunch her career, and she thinks it’s okay to step all over my likeness like it’s a rung on a ladder. Today, of all days. I played ball with her once. I am not doing it again.” She turned to her stenographer, who was doing her best to blend into the wall. “Leave the next forty five seconds out of the record.” She carefully held her mane aside and put her face into a pillow. Then she screamed, “MotherBUCKING HALF-BAKED, PEAR-SHAPED, BUTT SO BIG IT CAUSES EARTHQUAKES, UGLY—” Prince Guildario Pelayo, Duke of Esponola, First Son of Griffon King Pelayo, watched the pandemonium from his guest suite in the castle’s northern spire. “Bitch,” he growled. “She’s trying to steal my thunder.” He turned abruptly, his red velvet cape billowing behind him. “Guards!” Three griffons in gold-plated armor entered the room and snapped to attention. “The pieces are in place. If this all goes to plan, we get to kill two birds with one stone.” Chapter TwoTrixie loved a good rumor. Why wouldn’t she? Her career had been built on rumors and hearsay, carefully deployed at opportune moments to deliver maximum impact and maximum nuance. Her live show and public personality led most to pigeonhole her as a loudmouth Good. It was the perfect smokescreen. “Trixie! Trixie!” A lone reporter who had snuck past the castle guards galloped towards her. “Anything to say to the ponies at home?” “No,” Trixie replied with a flick of her mane. “How do you feel about the picture being leaked?” “My legal team is pursuing a case against the alleged leakers. I’m not going to speak about it at this time.” “Does the picture that’s been circulating in the papers recently have anything to do with why you’re here?” “Actually? Not at all. I’m here to put on a show.” The reporter slowed his canter, confused. “Wait—you’re not here to see princess Twilight?” “I am, and I’m not. A benefactor who wishes to remain anonymous offered me a great sum of money to come out of retirement for one show only. I really can’t say any more than that.” The reporter moved to ask another question, but Trixie cut him off. “I just gave you five good lines. My going rate is one hundred and twenty five bits per line. Do you have the bits to continue this conversation?” The reporter shrunk back. “I... uh... but, you only answered four questions.” Trixie flashed him a timeless smile, certain as she always was that age had only accentuated her beauty. “That last line was pretty long.” Behind the reporter, a burly security guard moved into place. “I take cash or check.” “Where is she going?” Twilight asked the guard captain as they strode through the castle corridors. “East, princess. Towards the throne room.” “Of course,” Twilight groaned. “You shouldn’t have let her in, by the way. She doesn’t have castle clearance.” “This was a serious oversight, ma’am. I’ll figure out who is responsible for lifting the spear. It... we thought...” The captain clammed up. “Sorry.” Twilight let out a long sigh. Ever since Shining Armor had retired, the quality of her guard captains had been going downhill. “You can tell me what’s on your mind, captain.” “It’s just that. Well. We thought she was here to see you.” “She is. That’s why you should have turned her away.” Twilight hustled to the throne room—it would look bad to be greeted at her own throne by anyone, let alone Trixie. No sooner had her princessly butt graced the seat than the trumpeters blared and the door swung open. “See?” Twilight said to the guard captain. “This is what I mean. We’re just letting anyone in.” Not one, not two, but sixty or seventy journalists and court hangers-on accompanied Trixie into the throne room, fanning out behind her like the long train of a royal veil. “Your Highness!” Trixie bowed low, sweeping her cape for dramatic effect. “It is your honor to welcome me into your humble home.” Twilight crossed her legs and rested her chin on her hoof, trying to mask her rage with boredom. “I have been summoned here to put on a show unlike any you’ve ever seen before. A show ten years in the making. A show—” “Yeah, okay,” Twilight said, “one sec.” Twilight’s horn lit up. A loud vwoop of discharging magic filled the air. The throne room and everypony in it shifted into greyscale—everyone, that is, except for Trixie and Twilight. Trixie looked around in surprise. “Uh. You didn’t just kill me, did you?” “No, Trixie, you’re not dead.” “Okay. That’s good. What exactly did you do, then?” “I stopped time, except for us.” “You... stopped time.” “Correct. Except for us.” Trixie chuckled. “That’s a new trick.” “A pony can learn a lot in ten years.” “So I’ve heard.” “Have you also heard that I’m the sole princess of Equestria?” Trixie twirled her mane. “It may have come up once or twice.” “Yeah, well, I’ve got an extremely busy schedule, and that look in your eyes says you’re one self-given compliment away from rubbing your muddy hooves all over it. So let’s not kid ourselves.” “Surely your schedule is not so busy that an impromptu reconnecting can’t be squeezed in. Could anyone really be any more important than—” “Yes. Prince Pelayo from Griffonia is here. I’m trying very hard to keep him happy and non-confrontational. Do you know there are border incursions happening between Equestria and Griffonia?” “Border clashes? I distinctly remember you haggling for months over a peace treaty. You hardly paid any attention to me.” “That’s the one. The griffons found a workaround by fighting with inflatable rubber boxing gloves.” “Like the foals’ toys?” “Trixie. Please. Let’s save both of us some time. Tell me why you’re really here.” “I already told you why I’m here.” Trixie took a cautious step forward. When Twilight said nothing, she took another. “But you are so kind for thinking of the temporal resources of us lowly mortals.” “You are hatching some sort of scheme, and I don’t have time for it.” “Always so quick to jump to the worst possibility.” “Am I wrong?” “Yes, actually. I am here to present a decade’s worth of new material to my ex-wife, because I thought it would be nice given the circumstances.” She glanced over her shoulder. “There would have been fireworks, but I take it your protection spells already turned the black powder into sand.” Something in the way Trixie said that rubbed Twilight the wrong way. “Fireworks in a room full of priceless stained glass. Yeah, I’m being such a downer.” “This right here? This is a microcosm of why your love life sucks. You’re so lame. I learned that word from you, by the way. Microcosm.” “My love life must really suck if I’m kissing you again. Allegedly!” she added hastily. “Allegedly.” Trixie tossed her mane. “So you saw the picture?” “Yes, Trixie. Yes I did. It’s on the front page of every newspaper in Canterlot.” “And you’ve done nothing to mitigate the spread of disinformation? Princess, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted this to get out. Riding my coattails for fame again? This is unbecoming of you.” Twilight wound up to say something truly spiteful, but stopped herself. “So you don’t know who made that fake image?” “It wasn’t you?” “Come on.” “Okay, okay. It probably has something to do with the anonymous benefactor paying me to put on this show, but beyond that, your guess is as good as mine. We’re far from the only schemers in this court.” Twilight hated to admit it, but Trixie had a point. “I guess we’re both on the same page, then.” “We may not know who put us up to this, but I still got paid to put on a show. I wasn’t lying when I said I have a decade’s worth of new material. I will perform unless you explicitly tell me not to.” Trixie gestured at the greyscale frozen onlookers. “But what kind of message would that send to them? Would a princess who’s worked through her divorce in a healthy way be so spiteful towards her ex that she spurns her in front of the entire court?” “No,” Twilight grumbled, sparking up her horn to un-stop time, “she wouldn’t.” When Twilight unfroze time, she was momentarily tempted to lecture Trixie on the proper function of court proceedings, just to take the wind out of her sails a bit. She was also tempted to then explain to the crowd that, technically speaking, trespassing in the courtroom was punishable by death, and no one would have ever been this bold when Celestia was princess, and that reciprocity was a two-way street, so if they wanted those new train yards to be built in time for the hoofball season to kick off, they’d better show a little more respect. In the end, her princess training prevailed and she held her tongue. “Great and Powerful Trixie,” she said, “your arrival today comes as quite a surprise.” “Not an unwelcome one, I hope,” Trixie replied. A ripple of laughter moved through the court. Twilight simmered silently. “I’m certain this crowd would love to see you perform, but unfortunately the Royal Calendar makes exceptions for nocreature. I have a 9:45am appointment with His Royal Highness, Prince—” “Guildario Pelayo, Son of Griffon King Pelayo, First in Line To The Throne!” called a voice from the crowd. The surprised ponies peeled away and found none other than the griffon prince himself, resplendent in all his best finery. “Yeah, see that?” Twilight mumbled to the guard captain. “Why do we even have court criers if they’re not gonna announce—ugh, nevermind, we’ll talk later. Your Majesty,” she said, turning her attention to the prince, “you are just the griffon I was expecting to see. I apologize for this interruption, but—” “Interruption?” Trixie said. “That’s all Trixie is to you?” A chorus of Oooo’s came from the crowd. “That’s—here we go again—that’s not what I meant. There is a strict schedule, and this isn’t an open court day, so I don’t see how any of you could be getting upset over this.” The crowd mumbled its discontent. Trixie stood there, framing her good side, infuriatingly silent. “Actually,” Prince Pelayo spoke up, “I for one am deeply touched at this reuniting of old flames.” “Not flames!” Twilight corrected only to be drowned out by a gaggle of Aaaw’s from the peanut gallery. “This castle is made of crystal. It’s completely fireproof. There are no flames here, old or otherwise.” “Come now Twilight, don’t be so obtuse. In Esponola, we embrace the fires of passion. And this is a nation built on love, is it not?” He gestured to the crowd, and they responded with whoops of applause. “Not that kind of love. Platonic love. Unsubversive, mutually consensual, platonic love.” “Far be it from me to cut this beautiful reunion so short. I have found myself, how you say, enchanted by the Great and Powerful Trixie.” He sauntered over to Trixie, his tail swinging behind him, and took one of her hooves in his paw. “Her grace has left me charmed. I wish to see her show.” He paused, his eyes growing dark. “Unless you do not care what the Prince of Griffonia thinks.” Deep inside, in a little box in Twilight’s brain only she could access, she let out a scream. On the outside, she was all smiles. “Very well then. Let the show go on.” The show, sad to say, was not all fireworks and razzle-dazzle. “And for my next trick!” Trixie announced, panting slightly from the effort, “I’ll be conjuring an entire fireworks display out of my—oops—” The crowd flinched, not because this would be the fourth fireworks-based trick of the routine, but because Trixie’s wand flew out of her hoof. Twilight quietly put up a shield while the audience dove for cover. Flagging a crowd with a dangerous magical item was technically a class-II felony, but in a moment of weakness Twilight didn’t interject to stop the show or have Trixie detained. She was actually getting some pleasure out of seeing Trixie lose her edge. Trixie covered her gaffe by releasing a dove from her sleeve and throwing a smoke bomb. She dove for the wand before anything dangerous came out, and when she stood up, she let out a little ooh and rubbed her back. It’s her L2, Twilight thought to herself, the one she slipped right before the divorce. The schadenfreude dimmed slightly. As bitter as she was, she still didn’t like seeing Trixie in pain. “You’ve seen nothing yet!” Trixie announced. “My penultimate trick will see me diving where no mare has ever dove before. Fire and death follow, but none can catch the Great and Powerful Trixie!” Her horn gave off sparks, a clear sign of fatigue. Across the throne room, a cauldron filled with liquid fire appeared. Twilight discreetly fired off a spell to analyze the contents of the cauldron. From beside her, she heard Prince Pelayo say, “Anything I should be concerned about?” Twilight forced a smile. “If the performer wishes to tell us how she does her tricks, she will tell us in due time.” “But you know.” Pelayo sat down on the steps to the throne the way a cat would relax in a sunbeam. “So be it.” Trixie wound up, got a running start, and performed a magically-enhanced jump towards the flaming cauldron. Her trick went off the rails, however, when she clipped the side of the cauldron with her shoulder. The cauldron tipped one way, then the other, its metal legs digging deep gouges into the ancient marble floors. Twilight had a split second to stop it from tipping. She did nothing. The ensuing wave of liquid fire swallowed a third of the crowd. As the survivors surged away from their fiery death, Trixie clutched her foreleg and said, “Am I bleeding? Can somepony please check to see if I’m bleeding?” A moment later, the victims of the liquid fire started appearing in the rafters, looking wet and confused but unharmed. “That’s not liquid fire!” cried a foal from the upper balcony. “That’s portal liquid you lit on fire!” “Heh. Well. You know. OSHA, and all.” Trixie, now sporting a genuinely nasty bruise, pushed a button on a remote control. A round of fireworks exploded in the air around the unwitting teleportees, causing them to plummet from the rafters. The commotion as the royal guards dropped their spears and dove for the fallers lasted long enough for Trixie to clear the stage for her final act. Prince Pelayo gave Princess Twilight an amused look. “Incredible, no?” “Yes,” replied Twilight, “no.” “Married for only two years, huh? I can’t imagine why you would give this up.” Twilight did what princess training said and made her face a rigid mask so as not to give the prince any ammunition. Court was politics. This was politics, somehow. She still had to figure out how the pieces fit together. “Attention everypony!” Trixie shouted over the din. “My final trick of the night was going to be something grand and amazing. But since I haven’t performed for the likes of princess Twilight Sparkle in such a long time, I want to do something truly special for her. Something death-defying. Something Great. And. Powerful!” She turned to look right at Twilight. “And I need a volunteer.” Twilight sat bolt upright in her seat. “Oh! No. Thank you. But no.” Prince Pelayo leapt to his feet. “What a brilliant idea! You must, princess, you simply must.” “I need to be prepared to hear closed court after this. No matter if I wanted to or not—” “Do you hear that, everypony? The princess wants to be Trixie’s volunteer!” The crowd instantly transformed from damp with portal liquid and kinda grumpy to damp with portal liquid and livid with energy. Cameras flashed. Ponies surged towards the throne. A cheer went up. “Absolutely not,” Twilight tried to say over the din, but before she knew it, Trixie was ascending the stairs. “Help an old friend out,” Trixie said. “Please?” Twilight furrowed her brow. Her ears twitched nervously. “Do I get to ask what kind of trick it is?” Trixie smiled as bright as the flash on a camera bulb. “Nope!” For one, it was a rope-trick, and a very compromising one at that. Ropes went everywhere, chafing parts of her that had no business being chaffed. Another thing—as Trixie was explaining the knots to the crowd, she summoned next to her an industrial wood chipper. Before Twilight could vaporize the ropes and politely call this meeting adjourned, Trixie slapped an inhibitor ring on her horn. “And this will ensure that there’s no cheating from the volunteer!” “Yeah,” Twilight said, “no.” Putting an inhibitor ring on her was akin to damning the Neighagara falls with a single piece of cork. You could say that technically some water was being stopped, and you wouldn’t technically be wrong. She started to shimmy off the inhibitor ring with her magic only to suddenly see the confused face of Prince Pelayo. “Princess,” Pelayo wondered aloud, “what are you doing?” “Asserting myself,” she said, her princessly facade cracking just the tiniest bit. “You said you would allow the show.” “And I have. And now it’s time to wrap it up.” “I see. So you think I’m stupid?” Twilight went pale. “What? No! Not at all, prince.” “But surely you must, because you have me come in here, then your ex-wife comes in here, and now we just start having a good time, and you call the whole thing off.” He wagged a talon in there air. “I’m a simple griffon. I enjoy the thrill of entertainment. You come here and poo-poo my joy—this is you calling me stupid, no?” “No! Prince, that is not—” “I’ll bet I’m just here as an ornament. You bring me all the way out here just so you can push me aside and tell your ex-wife, ‘oooh, look at how important you are! I made the prince of all Griffonia look like a fool for you.” Twilight’s jaw flapped helplessly. Trixie cinched the knots around her wings. “We... are here to discuss the border incursions troubling our great nations. She—” Twilight pointed to Trixie. “Doesn’t even know why she’s here.” Prince Pelayo threw up his talons. “Well, I’ve been told by my father—the king of Griffonia—that I can’t return to my father’s kingdom without successfully addressing our little border concern. So if I’m not wanted here, and I can’t go back to Esponola, I will, como se dice, irme a la concha de mi madre.” He turned to leave, his cape billowing behind him. “Wait! Please!” Twilight cried. “My desire to fix the border and my disdain for magic shows are entirely unconnected. Please!” She tried to follow after him only to have Trixie pull on her ropes. “The knots aren’t done yet,” she said, a little more breathily than was probably necessary. Twilight looked from Pelayo to Trixie, then back again. “Prince Pelayo!” she called out. “If I do this last trick, will you stay and hear me out?” Pelayo turned immediately. “You would change your mind like that? In front of all these ponies?” What choice do I have? she almost replied. Instead, she said a much more diplomatic, “Your happiness is just that important to me.” She turned to Trixie and said something she hadn’t said to her in over ten years: “Tie me up.” As the last of the knots were tightened, Twilight’s mind worked furiously to try and figure out the underlying pattern beneath the chaos. The prince wasn’t the bread and circus type—but he was the controlling type. Maybe this was all some strange game of opportunity to him. When she glanced his way, she noticed he was practically trembling in anticipation. He had a look in his eyes usually reserved for when castle staff brought out freshly smoked fish. The crowd didn’t seem too concerned for her safety, either. Castle staff and visitors poured into the throne room. When the guard captain tried to bar the doors, the tide of ponies simply swept over him. They can’t all be as good as Shiny, Twilight thought to herself. “And now,” Trixie announced, “for my final act!” She pulled the start lever on the wood chipper. “The Great and Powerful Trixie will make princess Twilight Sparkle disappear!” Trixie’s horn sparked to life. Twilight floated unsteadily in the air. The thrum of the wood chipper pounded in her ears. What is this, she thought, some sort of teleportation thing? That would actually be pretty impressive. Then she caught a glimpse into the wood chipper’s mouth and saw the dozens of rotating blades waiting to gobble her up. If there was a portal in there, she’d be able to see it. But there was no portal. No no no no buck no, Trixie you idiot— With a flourish, Trixie tossed Twilight into the machine. As Twilight went in, Trixie’s cape snagged on one of Twilight’s rope restraints. She let out a strangled, “Urk,” as she too was pulled into the wood chipper. There was a great pop from inside the wood chipper’s belly. The machine shook violently before grinding to a halt with a choked gasp. A moment of stunned silence permeated the throne room. Then forty armed griffons broke down the throne room door. The crowd was corralled into a corner. The royal guard was easily subdued, trapped and isolated as they were in the crowd. Prince Pelayo strode to the throne and plopped down, relishing the view. “Very nice,” he said. “Two birds, one stone.” One of the griffon invaders gestured to the stalled wood chipper. “Was blue pony supposed to—poof?” Another griffon shrugged. “How you say,” he said in a thick accent, “never gift horse look in mouth.” Chapter ThreeDeep in the ancient catacombs beneath the castle, in a room that had once housed ancient spellcasting rituals and had more recently been repurposed as a broom closet, the walls began to sing with magic. Solid stone turned liquid, churning in a hurricane spiral. The singing materialized into two voices screaming. The portal bulged outwards. Two mares fell out and landed in a heap on the cold floor. Trixie took the brunt of the impact. A hiss escaped her lips, and she clutched at her back. Twilight was much better off. She shot to her hooves, melted through the inhibitor ring, and magically untied her rope constraints, levitating them into a neat pile beside her. “Trixie, you idiot, you could have killed us both! You—” Twilight’s anger came to a trainwreck halt as she took in the sight of her ex-wife writhing helplessly on the floor. “Get up,” she said, not really meaning it, “you’re faking.” “Aah—the disc, Twilight. The bad one—L2. L2.” She tried to roll over only to freeze as if she’d been electrocuted. “L2,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. Twilight looked around, her lips pursed. Finally, she said, “Okay. Hang on.” There couldn’t be a soul within fifteen stories of them, but when Twilight lit up her horn, she felt oddly exposed. This was an intimate spell. Did she really still know Trixie like that? We’re about to find out, she thought to herself. She levitated Trixie into a zero-gravity position and cast an x-ray spell on her lower back. Sure enough, the disc of her L2 vertebrae had slipped out of position. With practiced ease, Twilight numbed the area, pushed the disc back into place, and cast a stem cell spell on the area to encourage organic cell repair. Then she localized a time spell to flash-forward just that segment of the back by four weeks. Trixie sagged in relief. “Better?” Twilight asked. “Thank you,” she panted. “You’re welcome.” Twilight picked Trixie up and pushed her hard against the wall. “Now what the hay is wrong with you?” “Ooh, here? I thought you had a thing about not doing it in the catacombs because of all the corpses.” “We are not—no! You teleported me without my consent!” “Would you rather have gone through the wood chipper?” “A portal at least would have been more stable.” “A portal in the wood chipper would have been too obvious,” Trixie said. “There’s no showmareship in that. You know these things.” Twilight picked up Trixie’s hat in her magic and stuffed it into her mouth. “Let me guess—you were aiming to teleport us into the rafters the same way you teleported those audience members with the portal liquid cauldron trick. But when you cast the teleport, you forgot to reverse the phase of the waves, so instead of sending us up, you sent us down.” Trixie, unable to speak due to the volume of hat in her mouth, nodded instead. “You are so... so... ugh. So brazen. You could have teleported us into a wall. Or the foundation. Or into the earth’s mantle. And you think it’s funny. You should consider yourself lucky nopony got hurt.” She removed the hat from Trixie’s mouth. “Okay, I’m done lecturing you now. Let’s make a deal. You tell me who set you up, and I’ll only imprison you for life.” “Wait,” Trixie said, “did you mean to say ‘only’? I think you meant to say ‘or’.” “Being imprisoned for life means you’ll be protected from the death penalty. Understand me?” Trixie gulped. “Crystal, Your Fearsomeness.” “Good. All I want to know is who paid you.” “We’ve been over this, Sparkle.” “I know. I just want to give you a chance to update your answer given your current circumstances.” “I’m sorry—I really don’t know. The payments came in the mail with instructions attached. I honestly thought one of the other princesses sent them. I thought it was some sort of courtship ritual or something.” “You think almost killing me is how I flirt?” “What? No. Courtship ritual as in plots and schemes. Those are rituals, and they take place in the court.” “That...” The anger in Twilight’s eyes abated. “That’s not what a courtship ritual means.” “Wait, really? What does it mean, then?” A fierce blush spread over Twilight’s face. “Nevermind. If you really don’t know, then you can clear your name another way” Her horn lit up. The rope that had bound her just a few moments ago now slithered over to Trixie and snaked up her leg. Before Trixie could scream, she’d been completely incapacitated. “Don’t enjoy this too much,” Trixie grumbled. Then Twilight stuffed her hat in her mouth again, and the conversation ended. By the time Twilight and Trixie made it back to the surface, the griffons had already struck the Equestrian colors and replaced them with their own. “In hindsight,” Twilight said, “this should have been obvious. Pelayo must have hired you to make a distraction, then leaked the forged image of us to manufacture a motive. All he had to do then was seize the initiative.” “Lies,” Trixie said. “You’re an excellent slanderer, though. Better ponies could learn a lot about being the worst from you.” “Wanna taste your hat again?” “Spare me the indignity. You’ve already taken half my considerable fortune.” “After I inherited all of your debts. You left that out of the pillow talk, remember?” “What do debts have to do with love?” “Nothing. It just would have been nice to know I was inheriting a debt complex bigger than some small countries.” “You are a small country.” “If you’re implying that I would ever consider using the Crown’s wealth to pay off a private debt, you really never knew me. You’d be better off putting me through the wood chipper and collecting insurance.” “If you really knew me, Sparkle, you would know I’d never put you through a wood chipper.” “Wouldn’t you?” “I literally just had the chance an hour ago, and I didn’t.” You’re being petty, Twilight thought to herself, stop, but her blood was too hot, and Trixie was getting heavy. The words just rushed out before she could stop herself. Even after all this time, Trixie had a knack for bringing the worst out of her. “Maybe you couldn’t bring yourself to assassinate a princess.” “Please. I do cooler things before breakfast.” An idea formed in Twilight’s head, something about Trixie’s hat being the same shape as a dunce cap. But before she had the chance to articulate it, a pair of griffons wearing prince Pelayo’s colors rounded the corner. Twilight screamed. The griffons screamed. Twilight reacted first, throwing the closest thing she could wrap her magic around. That just so happened to be Trixie. The two griffons went down in a heap. For a split second, Twilight thought she had seriously hurt Trixie, but then a stream of groans and curses started pouring from the older mare. Twilight let out a sigh of relief. Prince Guildario Pelayo, Duke of Esponola, First Son of Griffon King Pelayo, watched with bemusement as two of his disheveled guards ran into the throne room. “The castle is haunted!” the guards declared. Prince Pelayo cocked his head disapprovingly. The guards realized their mistake and snapped to attention. “We saw them, your highness. Ghosts. They’re haunting the castle.” Prince Pelayo let out a low laugh. “Not even death can stop the bitch from haunting this castle.” “Yes, your highness. We need an exorcism at once.” Pelayo drummed his talons against the marble floor, deep in thought. “No... flowers.” “Come again, sir?” Pelayo stood suddenly. The griffon guards flinched. “We need flowers.” Twilight and Trixie were in the middle of a heated conversation when they came across the second set of guards. Trixie’s side of the conversation went something like, “I don’t like it when you use me as a blunt weapon.” Twilight’s side boiled down to, “That’s cute—maybe don’t throw me into a wood chipper and I’ll take your complaints a little more seriously.” Both fell silent as they rounded a corner and saw the two griffon guards. Trixie said, “Oh shit, no Twilight, no no no—” Twilight swept Trixie off her hooves and banished her like a club. “Don’t come any closer.” “You’re gonna make me sick!” Trixie shouted as she swung through the air. “Wait, stop!” The guards threw up their claws. “Prince Pelayo wants to see you.” “Yeah right.” “We’re serious.” The guards reached for their belts. Twilight wound up to swing Trixie but stopped as the guards pulled out not swords, but bouquets of bright-colored flowers. “These are for you, Your Highness. A gift from the prince. This is all a big misunderstanding.” Slowly, Twilight lowered Trixie to the ground. “I would like to know how exactly this is a misunderstanding.” “Wait,” Trixie interjected. “You’re not gonna listen to them, right?” “Why shouldn’t I?” “It’s obviously a trap. It’s more than obvious—it’s insulting.” “Hey, c’mon,” said the griffon guards, “these flowers are very nice, no?” “No!” replied Trixie. “They’re stupid. These flowers are stupid, and you’re stupid for thinking she would fall for that.” A lightbulb went off over Twilight’s head. A slow smile spread across her face. “Wait. Trixie. You’re not... jealous, are you?” Trixie practically choked. “Jealous? Absolutely not. A couple of flowers and some bad ponish, and you think that’s enough to make me jealous? I am the Great and Powerful Trixie, Twilight.” There was a long pause. “Twilight.” Deep down in the bottom of Twilight’s mind, in the box only she could reach, a wretched and sinful joy blossomed. The look in Trixie’s eyes was the flaming end of every argument. It was venom and fire and all eight of their divorce court proceedings. And although she knew better, and she knew she knew better, and it went against every reasonable well-adjusted instinct in her brain—she simply didn’t care. “Y’know,” Twilight started, “this reminds me of the time Trixie and I first met.” Trixie could recognize a monologue was brewing. “Oh god, stuff the hat in my ears, please—” “Not the first time we physically met,” Twilight continued, “but the first time we met met. Do you understand?” The two griffon guards gave each other a confused look. “So, uh, do you accept the flowers or not?” “It was in the city of Las Pegasus, twelve long, long, very long years ago.” “Oh no,” said Trixie. “Kill me. Please.” “I had just recently flexed my princess powers and sponsored a convention on fonts—I was getting tired of all the illegible cursive on our official legal documents and wanted to adopt something an average pony could actually read. Detractors called it pedestrian thinking, but then again, the ponies who call things pedestrian so often have their own private chauffeurs to carry them around.” “I’m gonna die, stop,” Trixie begged. “Anyway, while I was in town for the convention, I ran into Trixie, who was doing an extended leg of her retirement tour. I caught the show, and even I had to admit, it was really entertaining. She was on her game.” Twilight turned to Trixie. “You were really on your game.” Since Trixie was still tied up, she couldn’t hide her head in her hooves, so she planted her forehead on the ground instead. “I pulled a couple strings and went to her greenroom after the show.” One guard rolled his eyes. The other, clearly engrossed, said, “And you hit it off?” “Actually, we argued for hours. I believe we disagreed on the fonts of her advertisement banners—I had fonts on the brain, what can I say? But in that moment, I had an epiphany of sorts: despite everything life had thrown at her, Trixie remained steadfastly herself. It was just that contrarianism and stubbornness that drew me in. You see, I had been the sole princess of Equestria for less than ten years at this point. In princess years, I was still brand-new. But I been around the court for a long time, and ponies knew me and what I was about, and as a result they started to cater things to my taste and speak to me in ways I found agreeable. They would even throw out new ideas that they thought I wouldn’t agree with.” “That sounds not too bad,” said the one griffon. The other griffon elbowed him. “Shut up.” “No,” Twilight said, “you’re right. On paper it was amazing. I had everything I wanted. All of Canterlot bent around me. But I was drowning. Every day I woke up feeling like I was slowly, lovingly being swallowed up by the castle.” “So when you met Trixie...” the one guard said. “Yes, exactly, when I met Trixie that night in Las Pegasus, I saw a mature mare whose fire burned with a passion few could rival, who didn’t care that I was a princess, who was going to be herself no matter who she was around. And I liked that.” “Wow,” said the griffon, clutching his flowers to his chest. “I assessed my current feelings and determined that perhaps what I needed in my life wasn’t someone who thought the same way I did, but rather someone who believed in themselves.” Trixie interjected from the floor, “And who believes in herself more than the Great and Powerful Trixie?” “You joke, but at the time it made perfect sense. There was real value to becoming close to someone who wouldn’t bend over backwards to coddle me just because I was a princess. I didn’t want more court dolls in my life—I needed a mare.” “That’s a beautiful sentiment,” said the first guard. “Did things work out?” Twilight smiled wistfully. “Nope. It was awful.” Trixie laughed. “Yup.” “We argued five or six times a day. Publically. We drove ourselves ragged on these argument-benders. I would do research, bring her my rebuttals, and she would create new and elaborate ways to spell out curse words in the sky with fireworks.” “In that way, we did push each other to new heights.” “Right, but also we wouldn’t sleep for days at a time. It was the worst.” “The worst,” Trixie agreed. “We should have broken things off after the first month, but I was afraid of what other ponies would think about me if I did. I didn’t want the princess of Equestria to be seen as a floozie, and Trixie was invested in building her brand off being married to a princess. It was very toxic for everyone. Learning to let go of all that and do what was right for myself was one of the most profound friendship lessons I’ve ever learned.” Twilight paused to take a breath. “And then you waltzed in here and shoved me in a wood chipper. And you have the nerve to be jealous.” “For the millionth time, Trixie does not get jealous!” Twilight returned her gaze to the griffon guards. “You know what? These flowers are a very sweet olive branch. I accept this gift. Let’s talk things out.” “What.” Trixie deadpanned as Twilight followed the guards down the hall. A few seconds later, a purple glow surrounded Trixie, and she was dragged after then. “Seriously. What? At least untie me.” “Sorry, no can do! You have proven yourself untrustworthy.” “Think about it logically. My rationale is entirely unaltruistic here. It would be very difficult to book high profile gigs if I develop a reputation of starting coups. That and the Great and Powerful Trixie will not be used as a pawn in some greater game! Trixie is the greatest game there is.” Twilight chuckled. “Tell you what. I’ll untie you if you admit that you got jealous just now.” “I’d rather be flayed alive. Which the prince might do, for all we know.” “Hmm. What was that old line our couples’ counselor said? You need to work on your communication skills.” “Sparkle. I am literally communicating my belief that we’ll die horribly if we go along with this. You’re the one not listening.” Twilight considered the question for a moment. “This is very obviously a trap of some kind. But I still think you’re in cahoots with Pelayo. If you really want to prove your innocence, you can help me confirm my suspicions when we confront him.” Trixie huffed. “That’s so you.” “Ah-ah-ah. Communication skills, remember?” Trixie grunted unintelligibly. Armored griffons, not royal guard, opened the door to the throne room. A crier called out, “Twilight Sparkle and Trixie Lulamoon!” “Princess,” Twilight said under her breath, “it’s princess Twilight.” “Excuse me!” Trixie said. “Her royal highness, princess Twilight Sparkle, demands you use the proper honorifics when addressing her.” Twilight cringed. “I didn’t say that!” she said, her voice breaking into the royal Canterlot affection unconsciously. “It’s totally fine. It’s not that big of a deal.” “Girls! Please!” The voice of prince Pelayo cut through the throne room. Twilight and Trixie saw the prince sitting atop the throne. “If you want to perform honorifics, you must first bow to the prince.” The air around the two mares cooled. “You...” they said in unison. “You stole my throne,” Twilight said. “You made me look like an idiot in front of my ex,” Trixie said at the same time. “Twilight Sparkle,” said the prince, “I am so relieved to see you are unharmed. That scene with the wood chipper really had us believing the worst. When my guards first told me you two were wandering the halls, they were convinced they had run into your ghosts.” “Yes, well, as you can see, the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I take it the little misunderstanding with the wood chipper has something to do with why you’re sitting on the throne.” “You are as perceptive as you are beautiful, Twilight.” “Ew. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but please call me princess.” “If only I could, Twilight. You see, your alleged death triggered a series of bureaucratic and ceremonial motions meant to maintain the continuity of power. Peaceful governance is a serious deal, as I’m sure you’re well aware.” “Oh, I’m well aware. Are you?” “The most aware. With you out of the picture, Equestria had no royals to elevate to the throne you left behind. There were logistical processes that needed to be performed. Ancient traditions connecting our subjects to their ancestors.” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Our subjects?” “Yes! Well actually, technically, just my subjects. Equestria needed a leader in its hour of mourning. It is my solemn obligation to lead my new subjects through this difficult period of transition.” “Uh huh. Tell me, did you happen to read the Equestrian Princess Code?” The prince’s confidence faltered the faintest bit. “I may have skimmed it. Why?” “Just curious. It details the various ways power can be legally transferred.” Her horn lit up. A crackling hiss filled the air. “There are some ways that are easy, and some that are hard.” Tiny bolts of lightning crackled around her. “One stands out as being both efficient and relatively easy.” Prince Pelayo shifted uneasily on the throne. “And that would be?” “Assassination.” Just as she was about to fire, Trixie dove in front of her, blocking her shot. “Woah woah woah! Sparkle!” Twilight let out a whinny and aimed her horn up at the ceiling. The magical charge released, firing a bolt of magic at five percent the speed of light through the roof. Windows rattled. Dust leapt off the rafters and rained down around the mares. Prince Pelayo let out a nervous laugh. “Dios mio.” “Trixie!” Twilight said. “What the hay? The ceiling is extremely valuable.” “You have been a lot of things in the time I’ve known you, Sparkle, but you are not a murderer.” “Technically it’s not murder. If he claims to be the active sovereign ruler of a kingdom, then it’s an assassination. The term for me therefore would be assassin.” Trixie deadpanned. “You’re being overly literal.” “Sometimes you need to be a little bit overly literal in order to be an effective communicator.” A piece of loose stone fell from the ceiling, landing beside the two mares and shattering into dust. “If Pelayo had read the EPC, he would have known that assassinating him is a technically legal way to deal with technically legitimate usurpers.” “Seriously?” “It wouldn’t be totally smooth, obviously. But it is the best option.” “There is another option!” Prince Pelayo inserted himself into the conversation, coming down off the throne while making sure to keep Trixie between himself and Twilight. “There’s a quicker way to peacefully transfer power. It’s also easier and, dare I say, not as messy.” Twilight’s eye twitched. “You can’t be serious.” “Oh yes. This part of the EPC I read in its entirety.” Trixie cut in. “Care to enlighten the rest of us?” “It’s worse than assassination,” Twilight said. “It’s marriage.” At that moment, the throne room doors creaked open. A few daring court-goers stuck their heads inside. “Marriage?” they whispered to each other, passing the word down the line. “Is Twilight remarrying Trixie now that she’s no longer the princess? Are they getting into a throuple with prince Pelayo?” “No!” Twilight said, “none of those things are true, please stop disseminating false information—I said stop—” Prince Pelayo put a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. She jerked away, looking offended. “Twilight,” said the prince, “is this truly so bad an option? We could unite our kingdoms. Think of the prosperity we could achieve together as a united Equestrian-Esponolan front!” “Where on earth is this coming from?” Twilight asked. “Twilight, I’m going to say something now that every filly could only dream of hearing from a prince like me: I love you.” “Ew,” said Twilight and Trixie in unison. “Ever since I was a chick, I watched Equesetria’s princesses with admiration and, yes, even at that early age, longing. I entered politics to prove myself worthy of a mare such as yourself. My heart was so strong that not even your coming out and marrying the harlot Trixie could sway me.” “The Great and Powerful,” Trixie added. “It’s an honorific. Twilight signed it into law.” “My apologies. I knew your marriage to the Great and Power harlot Trixie could never last, because it was not a marriage with me.” The prince began to pace around the mares. “Look at what she’s done to you in the last twenty four hours. Fabricated images of your likeness. Spread them without your consent. Damaged your reputation in the court of public opinion.” “Debatable,” Trixie said. “All press is good press, I say.” “And on top of all that,” the prince continued, “she marched into your court, tied you up in bondage knots, and shoved you into a wood chipper.” “Did not,” Trixie said. “I teleported her out before she was inside the wood chipper.” “You could wed a real prince. Not some pretender narcissist who fancies herself a royal but wears no clothes.” “Screw you! I wear a cape!” The prince extended a clawed talon to Twilight. “Join me. As a show of unanimity, I will look the other way and allow you to do whatever you wish with your ex-wife. We could even bring the wood chipper back in here, if that is what you desire.” Twilight considered the prince’s proposal for some time. Slowly, in deliberate steps, she started walking towards the throne. Pelayo followed, matching pace. “You know,” Twilight said, “before we got married, Trixie told me something that I still think about to this day.” “Really?” Trixie and Pelayo said in unison. “Yes, really. It’s informed my decision making all the way through up to this moment. Would you like to know what it is?” “Very much so, yes,” Pelayo said. Twilight moved onto the throne steps so she was eye to eye with the griffon prince. She motioned for him to come close and leaned towards him until her lips practically brushed his ear. “Never marry someone lesser than yourself.” Twilight Sparkle stepped back, lowered her horn, and blasted prince Pelayo squarely in the chest.
Chapter FourWhen the griffon guards finished peeling prince Pelayo off the wall, when the Equestrian colors once again flew over the castle, when the holes in the throne room ceiling had been repaired, Twilight and Trixie sat down on the steps to the throne and did something they hadn’t done in years: had a chat. “The Humble and Penitent Trixie would like to formally apologize,” Trixie said. “She was being a touch pigheaded.” “I would also like to apologize,” Twilight replied. “If I hadn’t assigned motives to your actions, we could have saved a lot of money in repair costs.” She paused. “And I was really mean to you, and that wasn’t very friendship princeessly of me.” They shook hooves and shared a smile. It felt nice to be back on solid ground. “So what do we do about the picture?” Trixie asked. “All of Canterlot thinks we’re dating again.” “We counter the narrative. We can say the image was a marketing stunt for your show here.” Trixie gave her an inscrutable look. “Nothing more?” Twilight smiled. “Nothing more. Getting married to you was one of the most interesting moments of my life, but it was also one of my biggest mistakes. We are deeply flawed as a couple.” Twilight took Trixie’s hoof in hers. “I hope I’m not breaking your heart a second time by saying that.” “Actually? All this adventuring we did today led me to the same answer. Our marriage was ill-informed. Life-affirming. But ill-informed.” They shook hooves again, and the smiles on their faces were deeper this time. Their eyes radiated a newfound sense of respect that hadn’t existed between them, even in marriage. “So,” Trixie said, “I don’t know if you noticed, but our little marketing stunt got quite popular.” “I did notice that.” “This might be the kick the Great and Powerful Trixie needs to come out of retirement in a more meaningful way. I’m thinking comeback tour.” “That sounds amazing. Do you really think you can pull it off?” “Puh-lease. You couldn’t buy this kind of marketing if you had the keys to the castle treasury. And speaking of treasure, I have fallen on a sudden unexpected windfall of liquid cash, and I know exactly the kind of tour cart I want to blow it on." "Cash? Did you steal Pelayo’s wallet while we were beating him up?" Trixie chuckled. She pulled from beneath her cape a bulging leather coinpurse with prince Pelayo’s seal stamped on the side. “Thank our northern friend for his generosity.” “You're kidding. You actually robbed him?” “Trixie is above common thievery. She was paid in full in advance.” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You mean...” “I lied! My secret benefactor was no more a secret to me than all your disgusting habits were a week after we were wed. Pelayo hired me as a distraction. I was paid to waltz in, be myself, and then throw you in the wood chipper for real.” The pleasant smile on Twilight’s face slowly melted away. “For real,” she repeated slowly, her jaw moving as if chewing on something bitter. “As in—” “As in, no portals, right into the blades. But I didn’t! Despite it all, Trixie is no murderer. She decided it would be much more beneficial for her mystique to be a double agent. So I portaled you out, faked both of our deaths, and singlehoofedly saved the day.” “You...” Twilight rubbed her temples. “You could have just told me he was trying to coup me. I put a hole in a twelve hundred year old roof. I almost broke several priceless stained glass windows. I broke every bone in prince Pelayo’s body and set pony-griffon relations back fifty years.” Trixie squinted at Twilight like she was the stupidest mare alive. In a slow, teacherly voice, she explained, “It does not suit the Great and Powerful Trixie’s career comeback to be conventional. I could have tattled, and that would have achieved the same goal. But now every newspaper in Equestria is going to be writing about the ex-lovers reunited in a die-hard race against time.” Trixie winked. “The tickets basically sell themselves.” Twilight let out a long sigh. “I wish I could divorce you twice.”
Chapter OneThe reappearance of the Great and Powerful Trixie sent shockwaves through Canterlot. Paparazzi and nobles alike swarmed her as she exited her carriage, peppering her with pointed questions and snapping photographs. “Pictures are twenty bits a piece!” she said over the din, her voice carrying effortlessly despite her age. “Settle up with my security team or we reserve the right to stomp your cameras. Thank youuu~” The royal guard should never have let her pass. Today was not an open court day, and she hadn’t held castle clearance for over a decade. But word traveled fast in Canterlot. Sometimes a princess made a decision, and the consequences of that decision showed up at the front gates wearing a tight-fitting leotard and a cape before word could be passed down to the rank-and file. No one wanted to be the guard to get in the way of a princess's love life. They lifted their spears. The sound of pandemonium and the methodical crunch, crunch, crunch of cameras being smashed followed Trixie inside. “This must be her doing,” Twilight said as she paced the length of her office. “Trixie cooked up some scheme to relaunch her career, and she thinks it’s okay to step all over my likeness like it’s a rung on a ladder. Today, of all days. I played ball with her once. I am not doing it again.” She turned to her stenographer, who was doing her best to blend into the wall. “Leave the next forty five seconds out of the record.” She carefully held her mane aside and put her face into a pillow. Then she screamed, “MotherBUCKING HALF-BAKED, PEAR-SHAPED, BUTT SO BIG IT CAUSES EARTHQUAKES, UGLY—” Prince Guildario Pelayo, Duke of Esponola, First Son of Griffon King Pelayo, watched the pandemonium from his guest suite in the castle’s northern spire. “Bitch,” he growled. “She’s trying to steal my thunder.” He turned abruptly, his red velvet cape billowing behind him. “Guards!” Three griffons in gold-plated armor entered the room and snapped to attention. “The pieces are in place. If this all goes to plan, we get to kill two birds with one stone.”
Chapter TwoTrixie loved a good rumor. Why wouldn’t she? Her career had been built on rumors and hearsay, carefully deployed at opportune moments to deliver maximum impact and maximum nuance. Her live show and public personality led most to pigeonhole her as a loudmouth Good. It was the perfect smokescreen. “Trixie! Trixie!” A lone reporter who had snuck past the castle guards galloped towards her. “Anything to say to the ponies at home?” “No,” Trixie replied with a flick of her mane. “How do you feel about the picture being leaked?” “My legal team is pursuing a case against the alleged leakers. I’m not going to speak about it at this time.” “Does the picture that’s been circulating in the papers recently have anything to do with why you’re here?” “Actually? Not at all. I’m here to put on a show.” The reporter slowed his canter, confused. “Wait—you’re not here to see princess Twilight?” “I am, and I’m not. A benefactor who wishes to remain anonymous offered me a great sum of money to come out of retirement for one show only. I really can’t say any more than that.” The reporter moved to ask another question, but Trixie cut him off. “I just gave you five good lines. My going rate is one hundred and twenty five bits per line. Do you have the bits to continue this conversation?” The reporter shrunk back. “I... uh... but, you only answered four questions.” Trixie flashed him a timeless smile, certain as she always was that age had only accentuated her beauty. “That last line was pretty long.” Behind the reporter, a burly security guard moved into place. “I take cash or check.” “Where is she going?” Twilight asked the guard captain as they strode through the castle corridors. “East, princess. Towards the throne room.” “Of course,” Twilight groaned. “You shouldn’t have let her in, by the way. She doesn’t have castle clearance.” “This was a serious oversight, ma’am. I’ll figure out who is responsible for lifting the spear. It... we thought...” The captain clammed up. “Sorry.” Twilight let out a long sigh. Ever since Shining Armor had retired, the quality of her guard captains had been going downhill. “You can tell me what’s on your mind, captain.” “It’s just that. Well. We thought she was here to see you.” “She is. That’s why you should have turned her away.” Twilight hustled to the throne room—it would look bad to be greeted at her own throne by anyone, let alone Trixie. No sooner had her princessly butt graced the seat than the trumpeters blared and the door swung open. “See?” Twilight said to the guard captain. “This is what I mean. We’re just letting anyone in.” Not one, not two, but sixty or seventy journalists and court hangers-on accompanied Trixie into the throne room, fanning out behind her like the long train of a royal veil. “Your Highness!” Trixie bowed low, sweeping her cape for dramatic effect. “It is your honor to welcome me into your humble home.” Twilight crossed her legs and rested her chin on her hoof, trying to mask her rage with boredom. “I have been summoned here to put on a show unlike any you’ve ever seen before. A show ten years in the making. A show—” “Yeah, okay,” Twilight said, “one sec.” Twilight’s horn lit up. A loud vwoop of discharging magic filled the air. The throne room and everypony in it shifted into greyscale—everyone, that is, except for Trixie and Twilight. Trixie looked around in surprise. “Uh. You didn’t just kill me, did you?” “No, Trixie, you’re not dead.” “Okay. That’s good. What exactly did you do, then?” “I stopped time, except for us.” “You... stopped time.” “Correct. Except for us.” Trixie chuckled. “That’s a new trick.” “A pony can learn a lot in ten years.” “So I’ve heard.” “Have you also heard that I’m the sole princess of Equestria?” Trixie twirled her mane. “It may have come up once or twice.” “Yeah, well, I’ve got an extremely busy schedule, and that look in your eyes says you’re one self-given compliment away from rubbing your muddy hooves all over it. So let’s not kid ourselves.” “Surely your schedule is not so busy that an impromptu reconnecting can’t be squeezed in. Could anyone really be any more important than—” “Yes. Prince Pelayo from Griffonia is here. I’m trying very hard to keep him happy and non-confrontational. Do you know there are border incursions happening between Equestria and Griffonia?” “Border clashes? I distinctly remember you haggling for months over a peace treaty. You hardly paid any attention to me.” “That’s the one. The griffons found a workaround by fighting with inflatable rubber boxing gloves.” “Like the foals’ toys?” “Trixie. Please. Let’s save both of us some time. Tell me why you’re really here.” “I already told you why I’m here.” Trixie took a cautious step forward. When Twilight said nothing, she took another. “But you are so kind for thinking of the temporal resources of us lowly mortals.” “You are hatching some sort of scheme, and I don’t have time for it.” “Always so quick to jump to the worst possibility.” “Am I wrong?” “Yes, actually. I am here to present a decade’s worth of new material to my ex-wife, because I thought it would be nice given the circumstances.” She glanced over her shoulder. “There would have been fireworks, but I take it your protection spells already turned the black powder into sand.” Something in the way Trixie said that rubbed Twilight the wrong way. “Fireworks in a room full of priceless stained glass. Yeah, I’m being such a downer.” “This right here? This is a microcosm of why your love life sucks. You’re so lame. I learned that word from you, by the way. Microcosm.” “My love life must really suck if I’m kissing you again. Allegedly!” she added hastily. “Allegedly.” Trixie tossed her mane. “So you saw the picture?” “Yes, Trixie. Yes I did. It’s on the front page of every newspaper in Canterlot.” “And you’ve done nothing to mitigate the spread of disinformation? Princess, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted this to get out. Riding my coattails for fame again? This is unbecoming of you.” Twilight wound up to say something truly spiteful, but stopped herself. “So you don’t know who made that fake image?” “It wasn’t you?” “Come on.” “Okay, okay. It probably has something to do with the anonymous benefactor paying me to put on this show, but beyond that, your guess is as good as mine. We’re far from the only schemers in this court.” Twilight hated to admit it, but Trixie had a point. “I guess we’re both on the same page, then.” “We may not know who put us up to this, but I still got paid to put on a show. I wasn’t lying when I said I have a decade’s worth of new material. I will perform unless you explicitly tell me not to.” Trixie gestured at the greyscale frozen onlookers. “But what kind of message would that send to them? Would a princess who’s worked through her divorce in a healthy way be so spiteful towards her ex that she spurns her in front of the entire court?” “No,” Twilight grumbled, sparking up her horn to un-stop time, “she wouldn’t.” When Twilight unfroze time, she was momentarily tempted to lecture Trixie on the proper function of court proceedings, just to take the wind out of her sails a bit. She was also tempted to then explain to the crowd that, technically speaking, trespassing in the courtroom was punishable by death, and no one would have ever been this bold when Celestia was princess, and that reciprocity was a two-way street, so if they wanted those new train yards to be built in time for the hoofball season to kick off, they’d better show a little more respect. In the end, her princess training prevailed and she held her tongue. “Great and Powerful Trixie,” she said, “your arrival today comes as quite a surprise.” “Not an unwelcome one, I hope,” Trixie replied. A ripple of laughter moved through the court. Twilight simmered silently. “I’m certain this crowd would love to see you perform, but unfortunately the Royal Calendar makes exceptions for nocreature. I have a 9:45am appointment with His Royal Highness, Prince—” “Guildario Pelayo, Son of Griffon King Pelayo, First in Line To The Throne!” called a voice from the crowd. The surprised ponies peeled away and found none other than the griffon prince himself, resplendent in all his best finery. “Yeah, see that?” Twilight mumbled to the guard captain. “Why do we even have court criers if they’re not gonna announce—ugh, nevermind, we’ll talk later. Your Majesty,” she said, turning her attention to the prince, “you are just the griffon I was expecting to see. I apologize for this interruption, but—” “Interruption?” Trixie said. “That’s all Trixie is to you?” A chorus of Oooo’s came from the crowd. “That’s—here we go again—that’s not what I meant. There is a strict schedule, and this isn’t an open court day, so I don’t see how any of you could be getting upset over this.” The crowd mumbled its discontent. Trixie stood there, framing her good side, infuriatingly silent. “Actually,” Prince Pelayo spoke up, “I for one am deeply touched at this reuniting of old flames.” “Not flames!” Twilight corrected only to be drowned out by a gaggle of Aaaw’s from the peanut gallery. “This castle is made of crystal. It’s completely fireproof. There are no flames here, old or otherwise.” “Come now Twilight, don’t be so obtuse. In Esponola, we embrace the fires of passion. And this is a nation built on love, is it not?” He gestured to the crowd, and they responded with whoops of applause. “Not that kind of love. Platonic love. Unsubversive, mutually consensual, platonic love.” “Far be it from me to cut this beautiful reunion so short. I have found myself, how you say, enchanted by the Great and Powerful Trixie.” He sauntered over to Trixie, his tail swinging behind him, and took one of her hooves in his paw. “Her grace has left me charmed. I wish to see her show.” He paused, his eyes growing dark. “Unless you do not care what the Prince of Griffonia thinks.” Deep inside, in a little box in Twilight’s brain only she could access, she let out a scream. On the outside, she was all smiles. “Very well then. Let the show go on.” The show, sad to say, was not all fireworks and razzle-dazzle. “And for my next trick!” Trixie announced, panting slightly from the effort, “I’ll be conjuring an entire fireworks display out of my—oops—” The crowd flinched, not because this would be the fourth fireworks-based trick of the routine, but because Trixie’s wand flew out of her hoof. Twilight quietly put up a shield while the audience dove for cover. Flagging a crowd with a dangerous magical item was technically a class-II felony, but in a moment of weakness Twilight didn’t interject to stop the show or have Trixie detained. She was actually getting some pleasure out of seeing Trixie lose her edge. Trixie covered her gaffe by releasing a dove from her sleeve and throwing a smoke bomb. She dove for the wand before anything dangerous came out, and when she stood up, she let out a little ooh and rubbed her back. It’s her L2, Twilight thought to herself, the one she slipped right before the divorce. The schadenfreude dimmed slightly. As bitter as she was, she still didn’t like seeing Trixie in pain. “You’ve seen nothing yet!” Trixie announced. “My penultimate trick will see me diving where no mare has ever dove before. Fire and death follow, but none can catch the Great and Powerful Trixie!” Her horn gave off sparks, a clear sign of fatigue. Across the throne room, a cauldron filled with liquid fire appeared. Twilight discreetly fired off a spell to analyze the contents of the cauldron. From beside her, she heard Prince Pelayo say, “Anything I should be concerned about?” Twilight forced a smile. “If the performer wishes to tell us how she does her tricks, she will tell us in due time.” “But you know.” Pelayo sat down on the steps to the throne the way a cat would relax in a sunbeam. “So be it.” Trixie wound up, got a running start, and performed a magically-enhanced jump towards the flaming cauldron. Her trick went off the rails, however, when she clipped the side of the cauldron with her shoulder. The cauldron tipped one way, then the other, its metal legs digging deep gouges into the ancient marble floors. Twilight had a split second to stop it from tipping. She did nothing. The ensuing wave of liquid fire swallowed a third of the crowd. As the survivors surged away from their fiery death, Trixie clutched her foreleg and said, “Am I bleeding? Can somepony please check to see if I’m bleeding?” A moment later, the victims of the liquid fire started appearing in the rafters, looking wet and confused but unharmed. “That’s not liquid fire!” cried a foal from the upper balcony. “That’s portal liquid you lit on fire!” “Heh. Well. You know. OSHA, and all.” Trixie, now sporting a genuinely nasty bruise, pushed a button on a remote control. A round of fireworks exploded in the air around the unwitting teleportees, causing them to plummet from the rafters. The commotion as the royal guards dropped their spears and dove for the fallers lasted long enough for Trixie to clear the stage for her final act. Prince Pelayo gave Princess Twilight an amused look. “Incredible, no?” “Yes,” replied Twilight, “no.” “Married for only two years, huh? I can’t imagine why you would give this up.” Twilight did what princess training said and made her face a rigid mask so as not to give the prince any ammunition. Court was politics. This was politics, somehow. She still had to figure out how the pieces fit together. “Attention everypony!” Trixie shouted over the din. “My final trick of the night was going to be something grand and amazing. But since I haven’t performed for the likes of princess Twilight Sparkle in such a long time, I want to do something truly special for her. Something death-defying. Something Great. And. Powerful!” She turned to look right at Twilight. “And I need a volunteer.” Twilight sat bolt upright in her seat. “Oh! No. Thank you. But no.” Prince Pelayo leapt to his feet. “What a brilliant idea! You must, princess, you simply must.” “I need to be prepared to hear closed court after this. No matter if I wanted to or not—” “Do you hear that, everypony? The princess wants to be Trixie’s volunteer!” The crowd instantly transformed from damp with portal liquid and kinda grumpy to damp with portal liquid and livid with energy. Cameras flashed. Ponies surged towards the throne. A cheer went up. “Absolutely not,” Twilight tried to say over the din, but before she knew it, Trixie was ascending the stairs. “Help an old friend out,” Trixie said. “Please?” Twilight furrowed her brow. Her ears twitched nervously. “Do I get to ask what kind of trick it is?” Trixie smiled as bright as the flash on a camera bulb. “Nope!” For one, it was a rope-trick, and a very compromising one at that. Ropes went everywhere, chafing parts of her that had no business being chaffed. Another thing—as Trixie was explaining the knots to the crowd, she summoned next to her an industrial wood chipper. Before Twilight could vaporize the ropes and politely call this meeting adjourned, Trixie slapped an inhibitor ring on her horn. “And this will ensure that there’s no cheating from the volunteer!” “Yeah,” Twilight said, “no.” Putting an inhibitor ring on her was akin to damning the Neighagara falls with a single piece of cork. You could say that technically some water was being stopped, and you wouldn’t technically be wrong. She started to shimmy off the inhibitor ring with her magic only to suddenly see the confused face of Prince Pelayo. “Princess,” Pelayo wondered aloud, “what are you doing?” “Asserting myself,” she said, her princessly facade cracking just the tiniest bit. “You said you would allow the show.” “And I have. And now it’s time to wrap it up.” “I see. So you think I’m stupid?” Twilight went pale. “What? No! Not at all, prince.” “But surely you must, because you have me come in here, then your ex-wife comes in here, and now we just start having a good time, and you call the whole thing off.” He wagged a talon in there air. “I’m a simple griffon. I enjoy the thrill of entertainment. You come here and poo-poo my joy—this is you calling me stupid, no?” “No! Prince, that is not—” “I’ll bet I’m just here as an ornament. You bring me all the way out here just so you can push me aside and tell your ex-wife, ‘oooh, look at how important you are! I made the prince of all Griffonia look like a fool for you.” Twilight’s jaw flapped helplessly. Trixie cinched the knots around her wings. “We... are here to discuss the border incursions troubling our great nations. She—” Twilight pointed to Trixie. “Doesn’t even know why she’s here.” Prince Pelayo threw up his talons. “Well, I’ve been told by my father—the king of Griffonia—that I can’t return to my father’s kingdom without successfully addressing our little border concern. So if I’m not wanted here, and I can’t go back to Esponola, I will, como se dice, irme a la concha de mi madre.” He turned to leave, his cape billowing behind him. “Wait! Please!” Twilight cried. “My desire to fix the border and my disdain for magic shows are entirely unconnected. Please!” She tried to follow after him only to have Trixie pull on her ropes. “The knots aren’t done yet,” she said, a little more breathily than was probably necessary. Twilight looked from Pelayo to Trixie, then back again. “Prince Pelayo!” she called out. “If I do this last trick, will you stay and hear me out?” Pelayo turned immediately. “You would change your mind like that? In front of all these ponies?” What choice do I have? she almost replied. Instead, she said a much more diplomatic, “Your happiness is just that important to me.” She turned to Trixie and said something she hadn’t said to her in over ten years: “Tie me up.” As the last of the knots were tightened, Twilight’s mind worked furiously to try and figure out the underlying pattern beneath the chaos. The prince wasn’t the bread and circus type—but he was the controlling type. Maybe this was all some strange game of opportunity to him. When she glanced his way, she noticed he was practically trembling in anticipation. He had a look in his eyes usually reserved for when castle staff brought out freshly smoked fish. The crowd didn’t seem too concerned for her safety, either. Castle staff and visitors poured into the throne room. When the guard captain tried to bar the doors, the tide of ponies simply swept over him. They can’t all be as good as Shiny, Twilight thought to herself. “And now,” Trixie announced, “for my final act!” She pulled the start lever on the wood chipper. “The Great and Powerful Trixie will make princess Twilight Sparkle disappear!” Trixie’s horn sparked to life. Twilight floated unsteadily in the air. The thrum of the wood chipper pounded in her ears. What is this, she thought, some sort of teleportation thing? That would actually be pretty impressive. Then she caught a glimpse into the wood chipper’s mouth and saw the dozens of rotating blades waiting to gobble her up. If there was a portal in there, she’d be able to see it. But there was no portal. No no no no buck no, Trixie you idiot— With a flourish, Trixie tossed Twilight into the machine. As Twilight went in, Trixie’s cape snagged on one of Twilight’s rope restraints. She let out a strangled, “Urk,” as she too was pulled into the wood chipper. There was a great pop from inside the wood chipper’s belly. The machine shook violently before grinding to a halt with a choked gasp. A moment of stunned silence permeated the throne room. Then forty armed griffons broke down the throne room door. The crowd was corralled into a corner. The royal guard was easily subdued, trapped and isolated as they were in the crowd. Prince Pelayo strode to the throne and plopped down, relishing the view. “Very nice,” he said. “Two birds, one stone.” One of the griffon invaders gestured to the stalled wood chipper. “Was blue pony supposed to—poof?” Another griffon shrugged. “How you say,” he said in a thick accent, “never gift horse look in mouth.”
Chapter ThreeDeep in the ancient catacombs beneath the castle, in a room that had once housed ancient spellcasting rituals and had more recently been repurposed as a broom closet, the walls began to sing with magic. Solid stone turned liquid, churning in a hurricane spiral. The singing materialized into two voices screaming. The portal bulged outwards. Two mares fell out and landed in a heap on the cold floor. Trixie took the brunt of the impact. A hiss escaped her lips, and she clutched at her back. Twilight was much better off. She shot to her hooves, melted through the inhibitor ring, and magically untied her rope constraints, levitating them into a neat pile beside her. “Trixie, you idiot, you could have killed us both! You—” Twilight’s anger came to a trainwreck halt as she took in the sight of her ex-wife writhing helplessly on the floor. “Get up,” she said, not really meaning it, “you’re faking.” “Aah—the disc, Twilight. The bad one—L2. L2.” She tried to roll over only to freeze as if she’d been electrocuted. “L2,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. Twilight looked around, her lips pursed. Finally, she said, “Okay. Hang on.” There couldn’t be a soul within fifteen stories of them, but when Twilight lit up her horn, she felt oddly exposed. This was an intimate spell. Did she really still know Trixie like that? We’re about to find out, she thought to herself. She levitated Trixie into a zero-gravity position and cast an x-ray spell on her lower back. Sure enough, the disc of her L2 vertebrae had slipped out of position. With practiced ease, Twilight numbed the area, pushed the disc back into place, and cast a stem cell spell on the area to encourage organic cell repair. Then she localized a time spell to flash-forward just that segment of the back by four weeks. Trixie sagged in relief. “Better?” Twilight asked. “Thank you,” she panted. “You’re welcome.” Twilight picked Trixie up and pushed her hard against the wall. “Now what the hay is wrong with you?” “Ooh, here? I thought you had a thing about not doing it in the catacombs because of all the corpses.” “We are not—no! You teleported me without my consent!” “Would you rather have gone through the wood chipper?” “A portal at least would have been more stable.” “A portal in the wood chipper would have been too obvious,” Trixie said. “There’s no showmareship in that. You know these things.” Twilight picked up Trixie’s hat in her magic and stuffed it into her mouth. “Let me guess—you were aiming to teleport us into the rafters the same way you teleported those audience members with the portal liquid cauldron trick. But when you cast the teleport, you forgot to reverse the phase of the waves, so instead of sending us up, you sent us down.” Trixie, unable to speak due to the volume of hat in her mouth, nodded instead. “You are so... so... ugh. So brazen. You could have teleported us into a wall. Or the foundation. Or into the earth’s mantle. And you think it’s funny. You should consider yourself lucky nopony got hurt.” She removed the hat from Trixie’s mouth. “Okay, I’m done lecturing you now. Let’s make a deal. You tell me who set you up, and I’ll only imprison you for life.” “Wait,” Trixie said, “did you mean to say ‘only’? I think you meant to say ‘or’.” “Being imprisoned for life means you’ll be protected from the death penalty. Understand me?” Trixie gulped. “Crystal, Your Fearsomeness.” “Good. All I want to know is who paid you.” “We’ve been over this, Sparkle.” “I know. I just want to give you a chance to update your answer given your current circumstances.” “I’m sorry—I really don’t know. The payments came in the mail with instructions attached. I honestly thought one of the other princesses sent them. I thought it was some sort of courtship ritual or something.” “You think almost killing me is how I flirt?” “What? No. Courtship ritual as in plots and schemes. Those are rituals, and they take place in the court.” “That...” The anger in Twilight’s eyes abated. “That’s not what a courtship ritual means.” “Wait, really? What does it mean, then?” A fierce blush spread over Twilight’s face. “Nevermind. If you really don’t know, then you can clear your name another way” Her horn lit up. The rope that had bound her just a few moments ago now slithered over to Trixie and snaked up her leg. Before Trixie could scream, she’d been completely incapacitated. “Don’t enjoy this too much,” Trixie grumbled. Then Twilight stuffed her hat in her mouth again, and the conversation ended. By the time Twilight and Trixie made it back to the surface, the griffons had already struck the Equestrian colors and replaced them with their own. “In hindsight,” Twilight said, “this should have been obvious. Pelayo must have hired you to make a distraction, then leaked the forged image of us to manufacture a motive. All he had to do then was seize the initiative.” “Lies,” Trixie said. “You’re an excellent slanderer, though. Better ponies could learn a lot about being the worst from you.” “Wanna taste your hat again?” “Spare me the indignity. You’ve already taken half my considerable fortune.” “After I inherited all of your debts. You left that out of the pillow talk, remember?” “What do debts have to do with love?” “Nothing. It just would have been nice to know I was inheriting a debt complex bigger than some small countries.” “You are a small country.” “If you’re implying that I would ever consider using the Crown’s wealth to pay off a private debt, you really never knew me. You’d be better off putting me through the wood chipper and collecting insurance.” “If you really knew me, Sparkle, you would know I’d never put you through a wood chipper.” “Wouldn’t you?” “I literally just had the chance an hour ago, and I didn’t.” You’re being petty, Twilight thought to herself, stop, but her blood was too hot, and Trixie was getting heavy. The words just rushed out before she could stop herself. Even after all this time, Trixie had a knack for bringing the worst out of her. “Maybe you couldn’t bring yourself to assassinate a princess.” “Please. I do cooler things before breakfast.” An idea formed in Twilight’s head, something about Trixie’s hat being the same shape as a dunce cap. But before she had the chance to articulate it, a pair of griffons wearing prince Pelayo’s colors rounded the corner. Twilight screamed. The griffons screamed. Twilight reacted first, throwing the closest thing she could wrap her magic around. That just so happened to be Trixie. The two griffons went down in a heap. For a split second, Twilight thought she had seriously hurt Trixie, but then a stream of groans and curses started pouring from the older mare. Twilight let out a sigh of relief. Prince Guildario Pelayo, Duke of Esponola, First Son of Griffon King Pelayo, watched with bemusement as two of his disheveled guards ran into the throne room. “The castle is haunted!” the guards declared. Prince Pelayo cocked his head disapprovingly. The guards realized their mistake and snapped to attention. “We saw them, your highness. Ghosts. They’re haunting the castle.” Prince Pelayo let out a low laugh. “Not even death can stop the bitch from haunting this castle.” “Yes, your highness. We need an exorcism at once.” Pelayo drummed his talons against the marble floor, deep in thought. “No... flowers.” “Come again, sir?” Pelayo stood suddenly. The griffon guards flinched. “We need flowers.” Twilight and Trixie were in the middle of a heated conversation when they came across the second set of guards. Trixie’s side of the conversation went something like, “I don’t like it when you use me as a blunt weapon.” Twilight’s side boiled down to, “That’s cute—maybe don’t throw me into a wood chipper and I’ll take your complaints a little more seriously.” Both fell silent as they rounded a corner and saw the two griffon guards. Trixie said, “Oh shit, no Twilight, no no no—” Twilight swept Trixie off her hooves and banished her like a club. “Don’t come any closer.” “You’re gonna make me sick!” Trixie shouted as she swung through the air. “Wait, stop!” The guards threw up their claws. “Prince Pelayo wants to see you.” “Yeah right.” “We’re serious.” The guards reached for their belts. Twilight wound up to swing Trixie but stopped as the guards pulled out not swords, but bouquets of bright-colored flowers. “These are for you, Your Highness. A gift from the prince. This is all a big misunderstanding.” Slowly, Twilight lowered Trixie to the ground. “I would like to know how exactly this is a misunderstanding.” “Wait,” Trixie interjected. “You’re not gonna listen to them, right?” “Why shouldn’t I?” “It’s obviously a trap. It’s more than obvious—it’s insulting.” “Hey, c’mon,” said the griffon guards, “these flowers are very nice, no?” “No!” replied Trixie. “They’re stupid. These flowers are stupid, and you’re stupid for thinking she would fall for that.” A lightbulb went off over Twilight’s head. A slow smile spread across her face. “Wait. Trixie. You’re not... jealous, are you?” Trixie practically choked. “Jealous? Absolutely not. A couple of flowers and some bad ponish, and you think that’s enough to make me jealous? I am the Great and Powerful Trixie, Twilight.” There was a long pause. “Twilight.” Deep down in the bottom of Twilight’s mind, in the box only she could reach, a wretched and sinful joy blossomed. The look in Trixie’s eyes was the flaming end of every argument. It was venom and fire and all eight of their divorce court proceedings. And although she knew better, and she knew she knew better, and it went against every reasonable well-adjusted instinct in her brain—she simply didn’t care. “Y’know,” Twilight started, “this reminds me of the time Trixie and I first met.” Trixie could recognize a monologue was brewing. “Oh god, stuff the hat in my ears, please—” “Not the first time we physically met,” Twilight continued, “but the first time we met met. Do you understand?” The two griffon guards gave each other a confused look. “So, uh, do you accept the flowers or not?” “It was in the city of Las Pegasus, twelve long, long, very long years ago.” “Oh no,” said Trixie. “Kill me. Please.” “I had just recently flexed my princess powers and sponsored a convention on fonts—I was getting tired of all the illegible cursive on our official legal documents and wanted to adopt something an average pony could actually read. Detractors called it pedestrian thinking, but then again, the ponies who call things pedestrian so often have their own private chauffeurs to carry them around.” “I’m gonna die, stop,” Trixie begged. “Anyway, while I was in town for the convention, I ran into Trixie, who was doing an extended leg of her retirement tour. I caught the show, and even I had to admit, it was really entertaining. She was on her game.” Twilight turned to Trixie. “You were really on your game.” Since Trixie was still tied up, she couldn’t hide her head in her hooves, so she planted her forehead on the ground instead. “I pulled a couple strings and went to her greenroom after the show.” One guard rolled his eyes. The other, clearly engrossed, said, “And you hit it off?” “Actually, we argued for hours. I believe we disagreed on the fonts of her advertisement banners—I had fonts on the brain, what can I say? But in that moment, I had an epiphany of sorts: despite everything life had thrown at her, Trixie remained steadfastly herself. It was just that contrarianism and stubbornness that drew me in. You see, I had been the sole princess of Equestria for less than ten years at this point. In princess years, I was still brand-new. But I been around the court for a long time, and ponies knew me and what I was about, and as a result they started to cater things to my taste and speak to me in ways I found agreeable. They would even throw out new ideas that they thought I wouldn’t agree with.” “That sounds not too bad,” said the one griffon. The other griffon elbowed him. “Shut up.” “No,” Twilight said, “you’re right. On paper it was amazing. I had everything I wanted. All of Canterlot bent around me. But I was drowning. Every day I woke up feeling like I was slowly, lovingly being swallowed up by the castle.” “So when you met Trixie...” the one guard said. “Yes, exactly, when I met Trixie that night in Las Pegasus, I saw a mature mare whose fire burned with a passion few could rival, who didn’t care that I was a princess, who was going to be herself no matter who she was around. And I liked that.” “Wow,” said the griffon, clutching his flowers to his chest. “I assessed my current feelings and determined that perhaps what I needed in my life wasn’t someone who thought the same way I did, but rather someone who believed in themselves.” Trixie interjected from the floor, “And who believes in herself more than the Great and Powerful Trixie?” “You joke, but at the time it made perfect sense. There was real value to becoming close to someone who wouldn’t bend over backwards to coddle me just because I was a princess. I didn’t want more court dolls in my life—I needed a mare.” “That’s a beautiful sentiment,” said the first guard. “Did things work out?” Twilight smiled wistfully. “Nope. It was awful.” Trixie laughed. “Yup.” “We argued five or six times a day. Publically. We drove ourselves ragged on these argument-benders. I would do research, bring her my rebuttals, and she would create new and elaborate ways to spell out curse words in the sky with fireworks.” “In that way, we did push each other to new heights.” “Right, but also we wouldn’t sleep for days at a time. It was the worst.” “The worst,” Trixie agreed. “We should have broken things off after the first month, but I was afraid of what other ponies would think about me if I did. I didn’t want the princess of Equestria to be seen as a floozie, and Trixie was invested in building her brand off being married to a princess. It was very toxic for everyone. Learning to let go of all that and do what was right for myself was one of the most profound friendship lessons I’ve ever learned.” Twilight paused to take a breath. “And then you waltzed in here and shoved me in a wood chipper. And you have the nerve to be jealous.” “For the millionth time, Trixie does not get jealous!” Twilight returned her gaze to the griffon guards. “You know what? These flowers are a very sweet olive branch. I accept this gift. Let’s talk things out.” “What.” Trixie deadpanned as Twilight followed the guards down the hall. A few seconds later, a purple glow surrounded Trixie, and she was dragged after then. “Seriously. What? At least untie me.” “Sorry, no can do! You have proven yourself untrustworthy.” “Think about it logically. My rationale is entirely unaltruistic here. It would be very difficult to book high profile gigs if I develop a reputation of starting coups. That and the Great and Powerful Trixie will not be used as a pawn in some greater game! Trixie is the greatest game there is.” Twilight chuckled. “Tell you what. I’ll untie you if you admit that you got jealous just now.” “I’d rather be flayed alive. Which the prince might do, for all we know.” “Hmm. What was that old line our couples’ counselor said? You need to work on your communication skills.” “Sparkle. I am literally communicating my belief that we’ll die horribly if we go along with this. You’re the one not listening.” Twilight considered the question for a moment. “This is very obviously a trap of some kind. But I still think you’re in cahoots with Pelayo. If you really want to prove your innocence, you can help me confirm my suspicions when we confront him.” Trixie huffed. “That’s so you.” “Ah-ah-ah. Communication skills, remember?” Trixie grunted unintelligibly. Armored griffons, not royal guard, opened the door to the throne room. A crier called out, “Twilight Sparkle and Trixie Lulamoon!” “Princess,” Twilight said under her breath, “it’s princess Twilight.” “Excuse me!” Trixie said. “Her royal highness, princess Twilight Sparkle, demands you use the proper honorifics when addressing her.” Twilight cringed. “I didn’t say that!” she said, her voice breaking into the royal Canterlot affection unconsciously. “It’s totally fine. It’s not that big of a deal.” “Girls! Please!” The voice of prince Pelayo cut through the throne room. Twilight and Trixie saw the prince sitting atop the throne. “If you want to perform honorifics, you must first bow to the prince.” The air around the two mares cooled. “You...” they said in unison. “You stole my throne,” Twilight said. “You made me look like an idiot in front of my ex,” Trixie said at the same time. “Twilight Sparkle,” said the prince, “I am so relieved to see you are unharmed. That scene with the wood chipper really had us believing the worst. When my guards first told me you two were wandering the halls, they were convinced they had run into your ghosts.” “Yes, well, as you can see, the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I take it the little misunderstanding with the wood chipper has something to do with why you’re sitting on the throne.” “You are as perceptive as you are beautiful, Twilight.” “Ew. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but please call me princess.” “If only I could, Twilight. You see, your alleged death triggered a series of bureaucratic and ceremonial motions meant to maintain the continuity of power. Peaceful governance is a serious deal, as I’m sure you’re well aware.” “Oh, I’m well aware. Are you?” “The most aware. With you out of the picture, Equestria had no royals to elevate to the throne you left behind. There were logistical processes that needed to be performed. Ancient traditions connecting our subjects to their ancestors.” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Our subjects?” “Yes! Well actually, technically, just my subjects. Equestria needed a leader in its hour of mourning. It is my solemn obligation to lead my new subjects through this difficult period of transition.” “Uh huh. Tell me, did you happen to read the Equestrian Princess Code?” The prince’s confidence faltered the faintest bit. “I may have skimmed it. Why?” “Just curious. It details the various ways power can be legally transferred.” Her horn lit up. A crackling hiss filled the air. “There are some ways that are easy, and some that are hard.” Tiny bolts of lightning crackled around her. “One stands out as being both efficient and relatively easy.” Prince Pelayo shifted uneasily on the throne. “And that would be?” “Assassination.” Just as she was about to fire, Trixie dove in front of her, blocking her shot. “Woah woah woah! Sparkle!” Twilight let out a whinny and aimed her horn up at the ceiling. The magical charge released, firing a bolt of magic at five percent the speed of light through the roof. Windows rattled. Dust leapt off the rafters and rained down around the mares. Prince Pelayo let out a nervous laugh. “Dios mio.” “Trixie!” Twilight said. “What the hay? The ceiling is extremely valuable.” “You have been a lot of things in the time I’ve known you, Sparkle, but you are not a murderer.” “Technically it’s not murder. If he claims to be the active sovereign ruler of a kingdom, then it’s an assassination. The term for me therefore would be assassin.” Trixie deadpanned. “You’re being overly literal.” “Sometimes you need to be a little bit overly literal in order to be an effective communicator.” A piece of loose stone fell from the ceiling, landing beside the two mares and shattering into dust. “If Pelayo had read the EPC, he would have known that assassinating him is a technically legal way to deal with technically legitimate usurpers.” “Seriously?” “It wouldn’t be totally smooth, obviously. But it is the best option.” “There is another option!” Prince Pelayo inserted himself into the conversation, coming down off the throne while making sure to keep Trixie between himself and Twilight. “There’s a quicker way to peacefully transfer power. It’s also easier and, dare I say, not as messy.” Twilight’s eye twitched. “You can’t be serious.” “Oh yes. This part of the EPC I read in its entirety.” Trixie cut in. “Care to enlighten the rest of us?” “It’s worse than assassination,” Twilight said. “It’s marriage.” At that moment, the throne room doors creaked open. A few daring court-goers stuck their heads inside. “Marriage?” they whispered to each other, passing the word down the line. “Is Twilight remarrying Trixie now that she’s no longer the princess? Are they getting into a throuple with prince Pelayo?” “No!” Twilight said, “none of those things are true, please stop disseminating false information—I said stop—” Prince Pelayo put a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. She jerked away, looking offended. “Twilight,” said the prince, “is this truly so bad an option? We could unite our kingdoms. Think of the prosperity we could achieve together as a united Equestrian-Esponolan front!” “Where on earth is this coming from?” Twilight asked. “Twilight, I’m going to say something now that every filly could only dream of hearing from a prince like me: I love you.” “Ew,” said Twilight and Trixie in unison. “Ever since I was a chick, I watched Equesetria’s princesses with admiration and, yes, even at that early age, longing. I entered politics to prove myself worthy of a mare such as yourself. My heart was so strong that not even your coming out and marrying the harlot Trixie could sway me.” “The Great and Powerful,” Trixie added. “It’s an honorific. Twilight signed it into law.” “My apologies. I knew your marriage to the Great and Power harlot Trixie could never last, because it was not a marriage with me.” The prince began to pace around the mares. “Look at what she’s done to you in the last twenty four hours. Fabricated images of your likeness. Spread them without your consent. Damaged your reputation in the court of public opinion.” “Debatable,” Trixie said. “All press is good press, I say.” “And on top of all that,” the prince continued, “she marched into your court, tied you up in bondage knots, and shoved you into a wood chipper.” “Did not,” Trixie said. “I teleported her out before she was inside the wood chipper.” “You could wed a real prince. Not some pretender narcissist who fancies herself a royal but wears no clothes.” “Screw you! I wear a cape!” The prince extended a clawed talon to Twilight. “Join me. As a show of unanimity, I will look the other way and allow you to do whatever you wish with your ex-wife. We could even bring the wood chipper back in here, if that is what you desire.” Twilight considered the prince’s proposal for some time. Slowly, in deliberate steps, she started walking towards the throne. Pelayo followed, matching pace. “You know,” Twilight said, “before we got married, Trixie told me something that I still think about to this day.” “Really?” Trixie and Pelayo said in unison. “Yes, really. It’s informed my decision making all the way through up to this moment. Would you like to know what it is?” “Very much so, yes,” Pelayo said. Twilight moved onto the throne steps so she was eye to eye with the griffon prince. She motioned for him to come close and leaned towards him until her lips practically brushed his ear. “Never marry someone lesser than yourself.” Twilight Sparkle stepped back, lowered her horn, and blasted prince Pelayo squarely in the chest.
