Great and Powerful Comeback Tour, One Night Only

Deep 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.