Great and Powerful Comeback Tour, One Night Only

Trixie 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.”