Attempted automated wordcount. Please use LibreOffice/MSOffice for an accurate count: 21268

thanks, author! If you wish to have this removed from this list, email ra.llan.pcl+complaints @ gmail.com, making sure to provide proof that you are the author.

I Won’t See You Tonight

By CoffeeGrunt

Many ponies see Canterlot as a jewel in Celestia’s crown. A beautiful city where anypony can get rich quick, and achieve fame and fortune. However for there to be the rich, there must always be the poor. While the middle and upper class had settled on the top of the glorious mountain that Canterlot had been founded on, the bulk of it’s citizenry lived in the Cabbage Patch, as it came to be called. The district lived under the literal shadow of the Canterlot palaces, and were often rebuked as an eyesore by the upper class that looked down upon them. There ponies didn’t live for the future, or dwell on the past. There was only the day ahead, and for many who lived without the ambitions and stress that money and success brought, it was a surprisingly free existence.

It was in the slightly higher area of this mountainside district that a small family lived. A mother that worked all hours to feed her two beloved fillies, one had a light blue coat with a silvery mane and tail, barely more than a foal, she was always with her sister, a tween mare with a resplendent ruby-red coat, accentuated by her golden mane and cutie mark. She was born to be a star, the cutie mark - the masks of Tragedy and Comedy - proved this. Each looked the chalk to the other’s cheese, but in truth, they were incredibly alike in spirit. However, in the Cabbage Patch, one rarely achieved the goal in life they had. Cassandra, the ruby-red drama aspirant often found herself hustling poker games to feed the family, her mother’s wages often being very poor. It was something she had always tried to teach to her little sister, the little tricks only a dramatist could pull.

Trixie, the younger blue filly, had watched her sister play many times. It was enthralling to her, to see her sister command games, only showing the emotions she wanted, manipulating the other ponies into folding or bidding high at her will. With just the right sly smile or shy downward look, she could control a table of stallions and swindle them for all they had. This being the Cabbage Patch, she rarely won noticeable amounts from her equally poor competitors - but she always got enough to buy her sister a treat on the way home. Trixie naturally never saw Cassandra’s hand though. Whenever she asked to sit next to her big sister while she played, Cassandra would always say, “But you can’t keep that lovely grin from your face, and then they won’t need to watch mine if they look at yours.”

“But I promise I’ll keep my face extra-straight, I won’t smile or nothing!” Trixie would shoot her sister her best pouted lips and foal-eyes combo.

Cassandra would always smile and say, “Well,but if you lose, we’re not getting apple turnovers on the way home!” This normally managed to stop her sister’s begging, but in truth, Cassandra enjoyed having someone close who didn’t vilify her for her gambling abilities.

It was between such games and sleep that Cassandra taught her sister everything she knew. From how to pull a card from your hoof, to how to make people believe exactly what you say. “It’s all about confidence, Trix. You say it loud and proud, and ponies believe you.”

Trixie would always have the cutest little face when she was thinking, or so Cassandra always told her. “One day I know, you’ll find your ability, then we can work together, you and I. I promise, you can be my wingfilly on the table, and we’ll go home with twice as much apple treats as we do now.”

Trixie’s eyes expanded in awe as she thought of the delicious desserts that being like her sister could bring. She practiced every day, and having the advantage of magic over her sister, she learned fast. She could magic flowers from out of the dirt, create little firework displays and even change the picture on a card, although Cassandra told her if the ponies found out about that they’d have some very angry gamblers at their door. Cassandra would always get Trixie to throw little shows for her, her silver-maned sister tottering on a row of milk crates, doing all sorts of tricks for the sound of her sister’s laughter and applause ringing through the air. It made Trixie happy to see Cassandra enjoying herself, she’d never tell her, but Trixie had heard her at night when she was meant to be asleep. She was always crying – and she muttered about Trixie and mum.

It was after one such display that Cassandra tucked Trixie into her bed, then retired to her own. She smiled, her little sister had put quite the display on today, managing to get the hang of the firework writing spell. She hadn’t the heart to tell her, but she’d been unable to make out the words until Trixie had screamed them out to her, throwing herself at Cassandra with her tiny little forelegs trying to wrap around her stomach.

“I love you sis.” A tear welled in Cassandra’s eyes, Trixie was the only one who appreciated her as an artist, and not the con variety. The little filly even saw her poker hustling as amazing feats. She felt her cheeks getting red as she thought of her shame, hustling other ponies for their money. Knowing they had families to feed. How could she ever live this life with a high heart?

She looked across at her baby sister, and realised that she’d swindle the whole town for every bit they had, if it made the little filly smile just once. She lapsed into sleep, the comfort of her bed taking her to grand halls, and dreams of performances at the Canterlot Bridleway theatres. There was always hope in her heart, they could always escape the ties of their birthplace somehow.

Trixie awoke to the sound of pacing hoofsteps on the wooden floorboards. It was early morning, Celestia’s sun just beginning to peek over the distant skyline of Manehatten. Trixie sat up more comfortably and coughed a little to clear her throat. Her sister’s head snapped round in her direction and she ran over to her, squeezing her tight in her forelegs. Trixie was confused, but even her sister’s beautiful acting abilities couldn’t hide that something was horribly wrong.

“Sis...what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Cassandra choked on her tears, trying to get the words out. “It...it’s mother. Sh-she’s been...found by the guards Trix. She’s...” Cassandra couldn’t bring the words out from her own mouth, but she saw the understanding in Trixie’s eyes. It diffused into the tears that now rolled down her face. The two sisters embraced and comforted each other for the longest time, struggling with the loss of the mare that had always provided for them.

        *                *                *                *                *                *

Her mother’s funeral. The house being repossessed. Collecting her meagre belongings and watching a new family trying out her bedroom. The guards chasing them. Running from the adoption agency. Abandoned and left on the streets. Her life turned around faster than she could process.

Trixie and Cassandra huddled round the makeshift fire for warmth. They’d found a good spot tonight, there were no other ponies to butt in on their heat, and they were free to let their emotions show. Both sister’s resplendent manes and coats were now grimy and matted. Gambling clubs had stopped letting Cassandra in due to her composure. “Keeping out the scum,” Trixie had heard. Cassandra had walked away, head down, dirty-gold mane trailing the floor. She made no pretence to hiding her tears this time, neither sister did. It was the two of them against Canterlot, and they were heavily outnumbered.

However hope always burned in the heart of the little blue filly. She couldn’t let the sister that had always looked after her down, so she used her talents to get them money. Standing on crates in crowded streets, she would perform her tricks, making flowers appear and handing them to passing ponies. Little card tricks to get giggles from mares, that muttered afterwards about a filly so young performing on the streets. Small money, but enough for some food in their bellies. Cassandra joined her sister on their makeshift stages, helping her perform tricks, gathering the audiences and bringing them to her. The sisters of sleight-of-hoof soon had the attention of whole crowds on them. Cassandra was so proud of her little sister at this point, her magical abilities were amazing, and she never failed to tell her. Even Cassandra, after seeing the shows five times a day, was still enthralled by the acts her sister put on.

They were soon living in a small apartment together. Happier times came as the memories of the bad passed, Cassandra also got her lucky break. A certain pony that ran the local theatre had seen her acting, Trixie had begun to use her as the “lovely assistant.” The colt asked her to audition for his newest show, a play based on the famous MacHoof. She auditioned for the part of Lady MacHoof straight away, and got in without a hitch.

It was when she reported this to Trixie, however, that the little filly realised what this meant.

“So, we’re not gunna perform together anymore?” Trixie seemed downcast with the idea, her sister had always been there - they had always worked together ever since the start.

Cassandra simply smiled, “You didn’t think I’d forget about my little sister, did you? I’m sorry I couldn’t get you a part, they already have a mare for special effects whose been in the business for years there. Buut!” She added, seeing the look on her sister’s face deteriorate further, “ I did get them to reserve you a seat each night, front-and-centre. Think about it, now I’ve got into the theatre, I can help you get on stage. Performing for crowds of hundreds who will come specially just to see you!”

“You really think that ponies’ll come to see my show big sis? I’m still awfully outta practice.”

Cassandra had an inward chuckle at her sister's modesty – she was ahead of her years in magical ability – to say the very least.

“I know it Trixie. You’re amazing, the best at magic in the whole land of Equestria. You just need to perform, and they will come. You’ll be able to see me backstage after every play. And I want your honest opinions on what you thought about my acting!”

Trixie seemed appeased as she stared out of the window, imagining the droves of ponies coming to see her perform her magical feats. She fell asleep with the first hope for the future she had held for a long time, its warmth warding off the cold night that Celestia had brought forth.

        *                *                *                *                *                *

Six months later, Cassandra’s wisdom had held. The special effects artist at the theatre had retired after her thirty years of service, and Cassandra had pulled every string she could grab to get Trixie into the position. It was a backstage...or technically, above stage position. She would sit in the rafters out of the audience’s view and work her magic - lightning bolts arcing their way across the stage in a way so realistic that the actors themselves jumped back in fear of them - of course making the whole performance much more believable. She conjured false lighting to give the feeling of a sunset, and every other effect imaginable. Cassandra had to give Trixie credit, she was barely a mare and already outstripping an elderly that had been in the business for three decades.

They were finally together again. The two sisters working their magic on the audience. Cassandra down below, beautiful poise and emotion in every part she played, from Cleoponytra to Hippolyta, it was as if she invented the roles for herself. Trixie from above with her breathtaking displays of magic. Soon it was the case that playwrights were calling for Cassandra - asking her to headline their new scripts. Cassandra demanded that Trixie work the effects on each play, and the playwrights would simply froth with glee at the prospect, the little mare’s magical ability was also becoming widely known. Soon they had moved from their old apartment to a large house on the outskirts of the Cabbage Patch. It was one faithful day, after a performance of A Midsummer Mare’s Dream that the two sisters found themselves discussing their plans on where to move next, the money simply rolling in their door.

“Well, I think we have enough money...and with our CVs, we could definitely get work up there.”

Trixie frowned, “But it’s so different up there sis. They’re all stuffy and high-class , what if we’re not good enough?”

“We can’t not be Trix,” Cassandra put a foreleg around her sister, “Look at the shows we put on.

Your magic lighting up the stage, bringing awe into people’s hearts, and my acting bringing the story into their minds. We can’t be beaten, you and I. The Poised and Beautiful Cassandra, and the Great and Powerful Trixie! Equestria will fall down at our feet!”

Cassandra broke out into a trademark actress’ pose, arms reaching skyward, head flung back, embracing the future as it roared to her. Finally, it was her future, her dream, and the last family member she had would be with her all the way.

“The...Great and Powerful...Trixie,” the words seemed to roll off her tongue so easily, it felt so, right. “The Great and Powerful Trixie! I love it!”

Cassandra looked into her exuberant eyes. “Oh thank Celestia, otherwise we’d have to reprint those poste-oops.”

She put her hooves across her mouth, pretending she’d said something she shouldn’t have, and snuck her sister a sly grin.

Trixie’s exuberance exploded. “What poster? Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

Cassandra gave her sister a warm smile and pulled a roll of parchment from her saddle bag. Handing it to Trixie, she watched her unroll it in front of her. The image was of a light-blue pony standing on a cloud, lightning arced from her hooves to the edges of the page, and the caption below read:

The Great and Powerful Trixie

Mare of mystery, see her at the Bridleway theatre:

July 7th 8PM

“It’s a real shame. I’m going to have to find a new Special effects artist, and it’s hard to find a good one around these days. It’ll be a shame that we can’t perform together sis, but I’d love to see you take centre-stage and spread your wings.”

Trixie threw herself at Cassandra, tears of complete joy rolling down her cheek. She’d be a star, glowing brighter than those on Celestia’s canvas itself. All because of her sister.

“Oh Trix, don’t think that a silly piece of parchment is all you’re getting!” She grinned as Trixie’s head shot up and her eyes widened, as if to say, “More?!”

Cassandra reached under the bed and procured a parcel - hidden on the underneath of the mattress. She passed it to Trixie, who tore it open in earnest. It was a beautiful silk cloak, a purple backdrop with a canvas of stars dotted all over. It clipped round her neck with an expensive looking diamond clasp. There was a matching hat too, tall and soft, like the old wizards used to wear.

Trixie ran to the mirror, posing and flashing her magic across the room. Now she looked Great, now she felt Powerful. The world was her oyster, ready to be shocked and awed. Her name would be known Equestria-wide!

        *                *                *                *                *                *

Trixie’s heart pounded, peeking through the curtains did nothing to alleviate her stage fright. The seats were packed, she scanned the crowd. So many ponies of all kinds were spread in front of her, all of them waiting for her performance. Cassandra hadn’t been able to make it, and her absence only made Trixie more tense. She didn’t blame her, Cassandra had landed a spot at the greatest theatre on the Canterlot main street, the Pony’s Chinese Theatre. Trixie felt pride for her sister, the two of them would be stars - one day performing for Celestia herself, and the royal court! A knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts. No, she didn’t want distractions, it could wait.

But now, she had to focus on the show. She ran through the spells, her lines, sequences and tricks. So much for a showmare to forget, but she didn’t doubt herself. Cassandra was right, she really was Great and Powerful. She smiled, then another knock at the door broke her ego-massaging session. A timid voice came from beyond the room, “Excuse me Miss Trixie. I need to come in.” Trixie huffed then swung the door open with her horn. She turned her actress’ chair towards the Stage Manager. He was a timid pony, an air of incompetence she had found slightly worrying hung around him, and now he seemed to have positively lost it. He was shivering as he spoke to her.

“I-i I’m afraid we’ve received a message from the guards. It's your sister...there’s been an...accident.”

Trixie’s heart leapt into her mouth. “What kind of accident? Is it serious? Where is she?!” Pinning her fore-hooves to the Stage Manager's chest, she interrogated him for everything he knew.

The stage manager only knew an answer for the last question, “St Haltergate’s hospital...the guards didn’t say much else.”

Trixie felt a dilemma in her heart. “Stay, and become a star. Or go, and ensure her sister's safety.” She steeled her thoughts. They’d come too far to back out now, there was only one option Trixie would ever consider picking at that moment.

She ran down the wards, finding a nurse, she grabbed her, interrogating her for her sister’s whereabouts. Receiving her answer, she galloped into the Intensive Care Unit. Darting around nurses, doctors and janitors all going about their life saving duties. Only one thought on her head, ward 7, and the pony within. The numbers flew by, five, six, she burst through door – panting as her run caught up with her lungs.

Cassandra lay under a blanket, fully clothed in a hospital gown. She beckoned Trixie with her head, and Trixie obliged. Trixie couldn’t hide her emotions though; Cassandra was a mess, her mane was matted, her eyes droopy, and her voice had lost it’s actress’ clarity that she had always enjoyed hearing. Trixie threw her forelegs around her, and Cassandra weakly tried to reciprocate. Trixie looked into her eyes, she had the strangest smile on her face as she stared at the mare, glitzy outfit and all.

Cassandra coughed, then answered the question Trixie hadn’t uttered, but had said with her eyes, “The doctors...say it..isn’t good. I was on stage, right in the heart of the act. I never saw her rush onto the stage...she got to me before I realised what was happening. Security got to her, but not quickly enough. But it’s okay now, because you and I, we always stay together.”

“How can you say it’s okay Cass?” Trixie fought back none of the tears that torrented down her face. She understood what this was, and she wasn’t allowing it. Not defeatism, not from the only strong pony she’d had in her life. “You’re not going to! I won’t let you!” She sobbed into her sister’s gown. “How can I go on without you?”

At that moment, she looked up, Cassandra was smiling down at her. “How can she smile at a time like this?” Trixie teared up, her sister must be going delirious.

“Trixie...my beautiful little Trixie...the only pony that never stopped loving me, even when I was a petty gambling hustler, you never stopped. I want you to remember these words...they feel...fitting for mares like us.”

With an actress' clarity, she recounted the famous quote from one of her plays:

”All Equestria's a stage,

and all the stallions and mares merely players;

they have their exits and their entrances,

and one mare in her time plays many parts.”

She looked down onto Trixie, cuddling her like her own baby foal. “I want you to remember that, when the nights are cold, when you feel that no-one’s there for you, that you’re alone against the world. Remember Trixie, we’ll be together in the end. Everypony like us meets backstage after the play. I want you to make the most of it now. I want you to make me proud! Become rich and famous like I always wanted to be. Have your name in lights so large I can see them from up there. I will always love you, little sis. We’ll be together in the end. Make the most of it...until...then.”

Cassandra started to cough, a deeper, wheezier cough than before. A doctor ran in from another ward, pushing Trixie off her sister. Trixie watched as they battled against her wounds, the doctor in a flurry, ordering his nurses to procure potions, pumping Cassandra's chest with his hooves, filling her lungs with his own air. But it was no use, the knife had severed a major artery in her stomach. At 8:34 PM, on July the 7th, the aspiring actress Cassandra passed on from this world, to whatever lays beyond.

The doctor stepped back from the prone pony, and called in the time of death with his nurse. He didn’t meet Trixie’s eyes as he walked past, but she saw his face. It held pity for her, but there was nothing he could do anymore. The nurses left Trixie alone with her grief, she wrapped herself around Cassandra and wept until her eyes dried out. The only pony in this forsaken world had been taken from her, she wanted to find the pony that did it - rip them apart like the grief was doing to her heart now. She stroked Cassandra’s mane, and closed her eyes shut. She gave her a kiss on each cheek, smattering her face with tears. They lay like that for hours – Trixie cuddling Cassandra like she used to on those cold nights when mum was late home.

The rage and sorrow left her. Now Trixie felt neither Great nor Powerful. She had been powerless to save the one thing in her life that was constant. She wanted to rip off the cloak and throw the hat away, but she couldn’t. As much as it hurt, the idea of performing without her sister’s morale-boosting smile, without her motivating glances while they were on stage, she had to go on. She’d promised to her, and it was a promise she would never bring herself to break.

Trixie was the only pony at the funeral. Cassandra had never made friends, actresses never did here. They had found the mare that did it, she’d been beaten by Cassandra at the audition, and wanted revenge for having her dream stolen - so she stole Cassandra’s too. The court appearance had been too much for Trixie, she had broken down while giving her statement, and tried to strangle the mare with her magic. She couldn’t bring herself to look her sister’s killer in the eye afterwards, and gave it in private. The mare was found guilty and sentenced to life, but it still didn’t stop the pain in Trixie’s heart.

The cremation went on in complete silence, with only Cassandra’s last rites punctuating the ceremony. Trixie had watched the flames consume her sister’s body, she tried to find closure in absolution, but it didn’t make her feel any better about the world. Now she simply had a mission.

The entirety of Equestria had to know her name, The Great and Powerful Trixie would perform, in Cassandra’s honour, at every corner of the land. Every grand castle and tiny hamlet she would enthral. She had the money left to buy a traveller’s stage, she would do it for her, for their dream.

She’d make her big sis proud.

Author’s Notes:

Well finally, after about 400 million rewrites and resubmittals, I can call this story done. Dividing my time between pestering Sethisto with this and helping TF2 F2P newbies get their asses back made for a surprisingly fun week.

So here’s hoping you managed to reach the end of this story with some enjoyment from it. I had alot more fun writing it than I expected, so maybe you guys’ll enjoy reading the damned thing. Then I won’t have wasted any time at all this week!

Oh yeah, and the entry on Equestria Daily said there was Twilight. So now I have to add Twilight.

“Hi,” said Twilight Sparkle.

There you go!

CoffeeGrunt.

Pre-note:

This fan-fiction is a sequel. Therefore I recommend reading “I Won’t See You Tonight” before reading this fiction.

Trashed and Scattered

CoffeeGrunt

Image courtesy of DerpyHooves.com

Winter roamed through the streets of Canterlot, with it came the light, fluffy snowflakes painstakingly manufactured by the pegasi ponies. They congregated in corners, smothering roads, coating windows, and catching on the snouts of ponies who braved their way through the chilling weather. One such pair of ponies found themselves outside the discomfort of the darker season. Trixie cuddled up to Cassandra a little closer, both enjoying the roaring log fire set in the fireplace. The flickering light of the flame illuminated Cassandra’s ruby coat with an ever-changing light, and emphasised her already exaggerated expressions.

“So I should join the audience to have a better show?” Trixie, still barely a mare questioned her sister’s teachings, “But then who will we watch?”

Cassandra chuckled at her sister’s naivety. “No, when I say “join the audience,”  I mean you work with them. Watching a show is all well and good, but getting the audience right into a show, now that’s where the talent is.”

“So...get them on stage?” Trixie’s confused brow only creased itself deeper.

“Well, in your type of show, yes. Not in a play of course, but there are ways, a sly wink at the stallions in front row, for example. For you, getting the audience to come and help you means they not only see the magic, but feel it as well.” Cassandra stretched out her hooves in sweeping gestures to emphasise her points further. “If you make the audience feel part of something special, then you’ll never be without a sold-out theatre.”

Trixie put a hoof to her chin, deep in thought. One day she’d become a great magician, one day.

*                *                *                *                *                *

Trixie’s hooves tore at the dirt track, her breath roared in wavering draughts as she fled the tiny little town behind her. After what felt like an eon of running her heart demanded her to stop, thudding against her ribs as if it wished to get out and halt her itself. She fell onto her flank unceremoniously, coated in dust and grime, yet completely vulnerable to the rain that rolled in from the Everfree Forest.

She both welcomed and hated it. It’s chilling autumn downpour froze her to the bone, but cleaned off the dirt that had accumulated over her once dazzling sapphire coat. It passed rapidly, its destination Ponyville, like another immovable force of nature that night. An attempt to call the Ponyville show a disaster would have been foalish. In fact, Trixie could say with certainty it was a new low in her career, and the thought that it could get lower chilled her deeper than the rain had done. Of course she shouldn’t have even talked to those two idiotic colts, but could she have expected them to lure an Ursa to the town? Nopony was that stupid. Yet, her faltering luck had found two ponies with that unique level of moronism, in one little backward town that was intended as a pit-stop on the way to Manehatten!

But Trixie had felt a show was in order, she hadn’t performed here yet. Sure the crowd banter was a little...close, but she’d wowed them all the same, just like she’d promised to. A thought rolled in from the back of her mind, “Was I really meant to humiliate the audience?”

As if it had sensed the other’s presence, another thought came in front a different direction, from that place in her mind Trixie had shut out all those years ago, “The Great and Powerful Trixie does not just ‘put on a show’, she immerses the audience in feats beyond imagination and proves that she is worthy of her title.”

The sister voice spoke out stronger, yet softer in it’s wording. “But I was meant to work with the audience, not against them. They are my children, and I feed them the joy of a great show.”

“They are cattle, they come to see The Great and Powerful Trixie, to get away from the dullness of their mundane, ineffective lives. The Great and Powerful Trixie is their Lady, she commands their nights and their hearts.”

“And yet I still see the hate in their eyes. They don’t love me, they have grown to despise me and all I stand for.”

“The hatred is better...or have you forgotten the alternative you endured for these past years?”

A tear rolled down Trixie’s cheek, forging its way towards its comrades in the puddle below her. She hadn’t forgotten those hard first years without her lifelong wingmare motivating her along. She looked over the railing of the bridge she had slumped on, the river was deep and choked with the heavy downpour. A pony that fell into it wouldn’t escape the current. She gazed into the water for a length of time unknown to her, it’s ever ravaging movement mimicking her own thoughts. A silhouette appeared, a red pony in the constantly moving reflection below. It replaced her own reflection, a hoof outstretched, beckoning. A world away from the pain she endured awaited her in the river’s wrathful grasp.

However Trixie didn’t even have the courage to bring herself to do that. Once more, she slumped to the floor in a heap of limbs and hair, bedraggled but uncaring towards her state. How could she have lost her way after all this time, all the success she had enjoyed on the open road, nothing but nature and ponies to entertain - it had been her dream ever since her sister had...ever since her act went solo.

*                *                *                *                *                *

The Canterlot streets were choked with the movements of ponies going about their business. Some visiting friends, some simply making moves to stay alive another day. None of them noticed the downcast pony forging her way through the mass. With her glimmering blue coat, silvery mane and silky purple outfit, she could have been mistaken for an upper class pony who had lost her way in this downtrodden estate. Were it not for the way her head hung, dragged down by the invisible weight of life in the Cabbage Patch, the crowd would not have swallowed her up as it’s own.

The mare found her way to a theatre. It was early morning and a pony stood on the step, levitating a brush before him and cleaning the grime of the streets away with a nonchalant attitude. Trixie simply nodded to him as she passed, and the janitor silently noted that she had come alone for the first time. It took but a minute to find the stage manager, the same shy little pony who had delivered the life-warping news to her only last night. Last night...she had been awake every moment of it, and yet her mind still hadn’t cleared. She hoped the funeral would erase the clamp over her heart and allow her to continue on, but the very thought of continuation numbed her legs.

The stage manager had been apologetic. She had ran out minutes before her debut, several hundred bits worth of tickets had to be refunded, her show was cancelled, and worse yet, her career with the Equestrian Drama Association nulled. Every theatre in Canterlot was closed to her, and yet while another showmare would have raged until they were violet, Trixie simply accepted this extra addition to her losses. The pile was so big that another load on top barely registered with her - she simply didn’t want to feel anymore. Yet the memory, still fresh as she replayed Cassandra’s last words over and over again, relived itself. Cassandra laying on the bed, moments from her end. “Make me proud.” The words would etch themselves into Trixie’s mind as she travelled Canterlot. She bought an old, tattered stagecart apparently used by some travelling crackpot. With some tweaks and repairs it was travel worthy, the map was set, she’d roll into every city, town and hamlet, and perform right there. The EDA could kiss her flank if they thought they’d stop The Great and Powerful Trixie from performing for her crowds again.

Her first town was a little place called Haltergate, an old mining village that had ran out of coal a few decades ago. It still had a decent road system and a good train line. The Great and Powerful Trixie used a Motivation spell, spurring the stagecart to carry itself along as she walked down the dusty highways of Equestria. Relief vented from her as she entered the town, curious ponies followed the strangely clad mare in her wake, her cloak and coat making her an alien sight in the dustbowl environment of the town. The strange mare stopped, and with a flick and flare of her horn, the stagecart reassembled itself, opening out into a fairly large wooden stage with curtains and fireworks adorning the back. A traditional magician’s stage.

And The Great and Powerful Trixie performed. Fire-writing flared in the skies, depicting battles of old, including the battle of Saddle Creek, (a battle between bandits and Haltergate citizens in it’s early days), the crowd stood in stunned silence as the image of the town’s heroes were burnt into the night sky. The rattle of applause flew through the air as the finale took place, the death of the bandit leader Stormhoof at the hands of Sheriff Quicksilver, a statue of whom had been erected right next to where The Great and Powerful Trixie had set up her stage...conveniently. Then The Great and Powerful Trixie brought them onto the stage, the ponies of Haltergate stood with her as she amazed their friends, turning their old mining overalls into pristine suits and top hats, magicking them from the stage then revealing them at the back of the audience. They revelled in it, begging for more, tiny colts and fillies lined the stage, their eyes bright and full of the love, just like She used to be. The memory jarred Trixie’s smooth showmare demeanour. She overcame it, evaded the eyes of the front row, casting her view over the amassed crowd, easily the population of the town, old mares, young colts and every age in between packed the ground in front of her.

Now it was time for the prestige. She flared her horn, and her fireworks flared behind her, they glowed, coalescing into a form, a hulking bear made of stars, it loomed over the audience, who scattered to the ground in terror, it let out a roar, and burst into a shower of confetti. The audience recovered from the shock, then leapt to their hooves, (or staggered in the older mare’s cases.) The roar of applause and cheers greeted The Great and Powerful Trixie’s ears. She closed her eyes and let the sound flow through he mind, uplifting her.

She was at home.

                *                *                *                *                *

Inmate 402 sat in her cell, dejectedly poking at what was intended to be meatloaf, but obviously the intentions of the cooks had been fairly off. She was slumped against the wall, dust coating her bright, orange uniform. Today had been eventful, but her spate in solitary confinement wasn’t a new experience. She giggled to herself as she recounted the yard fight in her head, being a “fillykiller” sure had it’s bounty in here. Of course among the morally righteous group she rubbed shoulders with here, the rapists, the serial killers, the terrorists, it was easy to see that she should be the hated one. But that mare had put two hooves in the wrong direction when she stepped up to hit 402. One hoof to the dumb foal’s face, then 402 had gotten her secret little toy, a sharpened cafeteria knife. The thing could barely cut the stale bread served up there, but after a few hours of sharpening it against a wall...well, let’s just say the mare had a big smile on her face after 402 was done with her, a little cosmetic surgery experiment.

Then the mare’s gang followed, as much as 402 offered the chance for them to leave, they just didn’t seem...willing. So they got some funky new body piercings...except silly 402 forgot to keep the metal in. She laughed to herself, this was probably stage one of a psychotic breakdown. Then she remembered, killing somepony was probably stage one, what she’d done in the yard was a fact of life for her now.

A bang at the prison door interrupted her trip down memory lane. Pity, it was that guard again. He strode into the prison, perfectly polished uniform, a black coat emblazoned with the sun and moon, symbols of the Equestrian leadership. His hat was short, with a small peak and flat-topped. He held a truncheon in his hooves, wary of 402 despite his... unwilling familiarity with her. He indicated that she stand against the wall, and 402 complied. Marshal was very unwavering in his view of the immutable word of the law, and though he wouldn’t resort to the blind brutality his guards displayed, 402 held more respect for him than she dared let on.

He poked her back with the truncheon - searching for more of her “hidden toys.” 402 giggled, “Boy Marshal, if you want foreplay, you’re not going about it the right way.”

“I don’t condone anything of the sort, Inmate 402. Hence why I’m checking you for weapons, I don’t want my guard to have to beat you again.” He responded in his ever-level tone, 402 didn’t even feel a tick in his searching routine from her joke. Disappointing.

“Awww, you can call me by my real name Marsh. And besides, I’d like to have a big, strong stallion like you to keep me safe from those nasty guards.”

“You lost the right to an identity 402. And those guards are good ponies, people like you push them to get a reaction. Besides,” A smile flared across his face faster than a parasprite’s lunch, “Wouldn’t want to date a dangerous criminal like you 402.”

“Is that a stuffy prison-guard yes?”

“It’s a...’you have a visitor that wants to see you’ no.” The flash-smile flared up again as he saw her expression. “Don’t worry, we haven’t set up a fight club between you and 615. She’s still drinking through a straw.”

“Oh you know how to make a filly smile Marshal.”

“And I know how to quick-march one too. Through here 402.”

He put away his truncheon and lead her through the labyrinthine corridors of the Canterlot Royal Sister’s Prison. Cuffed, naturally. Whereas at first the hoofcuffs had chafed her ankles, she now had worryingly hard skin there as her body had adapted. Eventually they reached the visitor room, tall ceiling with indirect lighting bouncing in from slits in the walls, a glass barrier that had been weaved with various kinetic block spells cut the room perfectly in half, and kept ponies like inmate 402 away from their...friends. However it was the pony sitting in the cubicle on the other side of the glass that surprised her, a pony she hadn’t seen for years - and their last meeting was on less than friendly terms.

Inmate 402 sat upon the provided chair, propping her chin with her hooves. An awkward moment of silence passed as the two mares stared each other out before 402 took the plunge.

“Well hi Trixie. Still warming up that force grip?”

Trixie hadn’t forgotten the court case. Hearing the pony across from her protest her innocence - having committed it on a stage watched by several hundred ponies - had fractured her already brittle emotional stability. But Trixie coughed, this conversation would go nowhere if she didn’t take the lead.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie...came here,” the words choked her, but she focused herself. “I came here...to forgive you.”

Inmate 402 let out a roaring laugh. Oh this was gunna be a very fun day today.

                *                *                *                *                *                *        

Trixie dabbed the tears away with the cloth. Backstage where nopony could hear her sobs, she opened herself up. Where she had hoped the pain would lessen as time progressed, it only became more constricting, tying around her limbs and organs, slowing her down with it’s weight. Every show opened the wounds once more, no longer did she see it in the younger ponies’ eyes, but in the face of everypony at her shows. She saw Cassandra, memories of those simple days, when a show was as complex as sparking some flowers out of the dirt from atop a milk crate. It set off a chain reaction, their evolution together. The inevitable end of her trip down memory lane would always appear, and she’d struggle against her tears on stage and rush the act to a close.

The ponies of Dülmendorf had enjoyed the show more than most - exposing Trixie to a bittersweet mix of emotion. This time her reputation had proceeded her, and the crowd had been waiting for her arrival, her route becoming more well known along the Equestrian highways. It was every showmare’s dream, a town square full of a ready-made audience who came to be wowed. And she had delivered, her act had refined itself on the road, less exciting tricks cut, more panache added to the fireworks, and she’d worked out a snappy teleportation-come-smoke-screen spell for stage entries that got a fair cheer.

Of course while the crowd had loved her, she found it hard to endure their adoration. She was a showmare, she should be revelling in their love. But here she was, crying like a filly because her crowds loved her? What pony had ever even heard of such a thing? Yet questioning herself only worsened the pain. She felt these emotions, that much was certain, and there were many crowds in towns all over the land, waiting for her to brighten their lives, even they darkened hers. She’d have to buck up her ideas and put on some blinkers. Focus on the act and the memories will fade.

The Great and Powerful Trixie dumped the tissue on the floor before whipping the stagecart into life and trundling it down the roads. Some new little dustbowl town was her next destination, and the citizens of Appaloosa would not forget the wonder of The Great and Powerful Trixie.

Part 2. (In Progress.)

Author Notes:

Well after I Won’t See You Tonight surprised me by actually gaining more than two stars, I felt obligated that my sad little Trixie get a continuation. This is the start of said continuation.

A big thanks to everyone who loved the original story, and a bigger one to the people who pointed out my errors and helped me improve. Amazingly I actually had pre-readers of my own to check that this wouldn’t disappoint, and as they were fans of the other fic, hopefully this won’t disappoint you, reader. I’ll post my thanks to them here too, awesome guys.

More to come later on. This story will get sad, but I’m hoping that I can drum up a happy ending for Trixie. Well, by hoping I mean I’ve already planned it all out. But shhh don’t tell anybody. Loose Lips Sink Fanfics!

CoffeeGrunt.

Unbound

CoffeeGrunt

Image courtesy of ProteusIII

Trixie allowed Inmate 402’s laughter-tsunami to subside. This mare had clearly been badly affected by her time in prison, she remembered her being much more coherent at the trial. Deep in the core of her mind, a sliver of pity floated into the light. However it was soon subjected to the raging torrent of pent-up hatred she held for the mare. Hatred that she was just barely holding in check now.

402 wiped a tear from her, still giggling slightly. “Oh Trixie, if I’d known you were such a joker, I would’ve made nice with you.”

Trixie hardened her expression, pressurising the emotions within. “No joke. I want you to tell me why you did it, why you killed my sister.” Slow, steady breaths emerged from her mouth. The willpower she used for creating magical shows that rocked the audience’s world was barely capable of keeping a lid on her temper.

“Why I killed your sister? Oh, I’ve been so busy enjoying the 5-star accommodation here, that I’ve clean forgotten. It’s a real pity, I’ll just have that forgiveness, with maybe a side order of freedom?” Inmate 402 sarcastically batted her eyelids at Trixie, who’s anger flashed across her features, then was beaten down back into the depths.

“How are you...enjoying your sleep then? I understand it has become quite the issue.”

“Oh you little vixen you. I’m guessing you got a copy of the brochure they gave me? Free jewellery,” she pulled the sleeve of her uniform back and revealed an ethereal, pearl band that seemed to be fused with her ankle, “haven’t slept since I was put in here. ‘And for a crime greater than any, the theft of a young life, this pony has been sentenced to a hundred years in suspended vitality. She will have full consciousness for the length of her term, and death will not be an escape from it.’”

“An Alicorn band? I thought they were a myth. Does it really-”

“Yes. I’ve been beaten up, cut open, ripped apart, still kickin’. I’m a walking abomination, and I’ve still got ninety years left.” 402’s eyes glazed over, she stared up and over Trixie, at some unseen figure in her mind. “You want regret, you’re looking at it. No reprieve in sleep, only the knowledge that I will age into a withering husk in here, with my mind still clamped in tight.”

Trixie’s voice quavered at the sudden passion with which the prisoner pony spoke. “So...why did you do it?”

“Oh, don’t you know Trixie. You can’t make dreams. You can only take another’s. Me and Cassandra were... close. We never told anypony, but she’d always make time for me. As soon as that big show came up, she cast me aside, not wanting the competition. One day I was her world, next day I was her doormat. That’s what your sister was, the only pony she ever really loved, was you.” Her eyes watered slightly, and in them Trixie saw contempt, self-pity and bitter jealousy. “She always talked about you. How much she worried for you. I wanted to take it away, if I couldn’t have it... you couldn’t either.”

Trixie’s mind halted, her emotions diffused back into her surroundings. Derailed and distraught, her mind simply abandoned her. She could feel her mouth flapping open and shut, but heard no words emerge. After a moment, her brain warmed back up, and she began to voice her feelings.

“I...no, Cassandra would have told me. I don’t believe you. She’d never play a pony like that, she was perfect, better than you! She was caring, and loving, and never let a friend down.”

Inmate 402 simply smiled sadly. “You were her only friend. I’d love to say I’m sorry Trixie, but in the wide world of Equestria, she only cared about you and her. And while you may have seen the on-stage Cassandra, all beauty and poise, you never saw the backstage Cass, mistress of manipulation.”

“No. No, she wasn’t like that. She got her parts through talent!” Trixie’s previously pent-up anger overspilled her defenses, and they crumbled under it’s pressure. But her voice turned from a shout to a seething whisper under the heat of her rage. “She was living the dream, and you killed her for it. You’re a jealous, cantankerous mule. I hope you rot every second you wear that band.”

“I plan to, Trixie, I plan to.” Inmate 402 got up from her seat, and turned away from the vehement showmare. She reasserted herself, trying to shunt the memories out. Only she wouldn’t, solitary confinement for an Alicorn band wearer is a month of nothing but your thoughts, without even the release of sleep to escape. While it had saved her life in fights many a time, inevitably, she would grow to despise her existence, and be unable to do anything about it. But these thoughts were for later, she reassumed her cool, and trotted up to Marshal.

“Excuse me, Mr Marshal sir,” she called out in a sing-song voice, “but a lady would like an escort to her apartment, if you so please?”

“Time was up anyway 402, I hope you bade farewell to your friend.”

Inmate 402 glanced at Trixie, the living debris of her crime. She turned back to Marshal, before simply nodding and exiting the room.

        *                *                *                *                *                *

Detrot City. A sprawling mass of populace and liberalism. The Great and Powerful Trixie trotted through the city that was second only to Manehatten on her route. She could easily organise twenty shows in the various districts, and she felt fairly certain it’d help get her name out there pretty well. She rode atop of her magically motivated stagecart, cutting through the crowds like an Admiral on his flagship. It wasn’t until a small colt tried to run in front of her car that Trixie’s concentration snapped back into place, and she halted the cart to avoid it. Where she had expected the colt - who had fallen over avoiding the cart himself - to simply dust himself off and run, he instead stood in her way, staring up at her atop her cart.

After a fairly awkward moment of trying to avoid the colt’s stare, she slid down to face the colt eye to eye, roughly. He seemed nervous, as though he recognised her. The Great and Powerful Trixie’s impatience overtook her manners. “Is there a reason you are blocking The Great and Powerful Trixie’s stagecart, or are you just having a slow day, colt?”

The harsh nature of her greeting seemed to jar the colt’s brain into action. Now that The Great and Powerful Trixie was closer, she could see his worn out clothing, and unkempt mane. A street pony, typical. Probably hoping for a charitable bit or two. A memory came back to her, two sisters huddling near a makeshift fire for warmth, hoping for a better future. She physically shook her head, needing none of that. The Great and Powerful Trixie had gotten where she was on her own merits, not charity. As her thoughts came back to the little unicorn colt, she realised he still hadn’t spoken yet.

“Excuse me. But The Great and Powerful Trixie has several shows to perform, and doesn’t have the time to be delayed by a mute foal! So either tell her what you want, or stop blocking her path!”

“I...I wanted...to help you.”

“Help her, how will you help The Great and Powerful Trixie, she wonders?”

“I want to be like you!” A fervour sprang into the colt’s voice, he bounded as he talked to The Great and Powerful Trixie. “I want to learn from you, I’ve heard about you. You started like us, and became famous! I’m really good at learning and magic, I promise!”

The Great and Powerful Trixie simply scowled at the colt. “What’s your name then? Are you trying to be The Great and Powerful Trixie’s apprentice?”

“Mah-Matrix Flare. My mom is a magician...or, she used to be.” Matrix’s eyes turned downwards, and Trixie sensed a tragedy around his mother.

“She was a good pony?” Trixie inquired.

“The best, her and dad were the best team. She used to do shows, and dad was really good with talking to ponies and getting her jobs. I just wanted to be like her, be like you!” He bounded to emphasise his wish, and Trixie felt heat grow under the collar of her garb, despite the chilly autumn weather.

“I..I dunno. I can’t take you away from here, I don’t have much money to feed us.”

“It’s okay. We can perform for money! We’ll be rich and famous, we can get a big house and never have to worry about the bad ponies again!”

“The...bad ponies?” Trixie’s face began to show her worry - she was getting in too deep. Matrix seemed to realise what he had let slip, his voice calmed to a deathly note, and he barely managed to project his words.

“One night...I was up later than I should be. I had nightmares. My mom, she went downstairs to make me a cup of cocoa.” A tear formed in the corner of his eye. “She always did that if I couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t until she had gotten downstairs that I heard the noise, a big crash. I ran to the stairs to see, and these two ponies in black suits that covered their faces were grabbing her. They started shouting to each other, one of them sounded scared, so the other one shouted at him louder. Dad came down, he tried to fight them off of mommy.” Matrix choked on his words as he continued. “They...they pushed mommy at him, her hoof caught a bookcase that they had pushed over. She fell funny...she never got up.” The colt didn’t look back up, but Trixie saw tears tracing their way through the air below his head.

Trixie simply smiled and tousled the colt’s hair. “I’m sorry little colt. But I can’t help you.” Matrix looked distraught, but she continued. ”Your dad no doubt loves you, and needs you to help him. He’ll be just as scared of the bad ponies as you are. I won’t take you away from him, it would hurt him more than you know.”

Matrix smiled weakly through his tears. “Thanks Trixie. Maybe one day, when I’m older. Maybe we can work together then?”

“I’ll be back here in five years then. Meet me here on this street, on this day of this month. If you still want to be my apprentice. You’ll have your cutie mark then, and it’ll be your decision.”

“I’ll be here for you Trixie. We can be stars together!” The little colt was once more brimming with ecstasy as he cantered out of the city. It was the last time Trixie ever saw him. She had kept her word, and on the 7th of September five years later, she had waited for that colt on the very same street. But whether the colt had simply forgotten or changed his mind, or if the ‘bad ponies’ had finally caught up to him, Trixie would never know. She had hoped that after that time, the little colt would still be there, waiting to join her on stage. After some time she realised, hope simple makes foals of you.

        *                *                *                *                *                *                

Another slug hit Trixie’s stomach hard, she grimaced as she fought the burning sensation in her gut. Her once excellent mind was warping and fading, and she could feel herself losing control of her limbs. Breathlessly, she ordered another shot of the Applelachian Moonshine. It was doing a terrific job of making her care less about her life, and by now, her memories were essentially drowning themselves. She furrowed her brow as she forced her eyes to focus, and saw a pretty irritated griffon sitting across the bar. Trixie giggled, griffons looked so silly with their half-lion, half-bird getup. Why didn’t they just have hooves like everyone else and stop trying to be so different? She felt confident that she could beat the griffon in a fight, her shield of inebriation gave her extra confidence, but she could do with a little more.

Another shot hit Trixie’s digestive system, and neatly knocked out the part of her mind that had been monitoring how drunk she was. Motor control was the next to go offline as she slurred her speech for more liquor, and in the end, a trio of shots knocked out the master control, and she fell off the stool in her drunken stupor, whether she was conscious before she hit the floor was anypony’s guess.

The elements of consciousness slowly poured into Trixie. First came Sound, the yell of screaming eagles as her ears began to readjust themselves to the hammering her body had received. Next came the element of Touch, she could feel the ice-cold ground beneath her, and a sticky sensation on her face. Taste and Smell came next - then she wished they hadn’t, neither had anything pleasant to report. Sight made itself known next, first a bleary view of the alleyway she had been thrown out into, until her eyes refocused and saw her situation. And finally came Thought, as she realised the pitiful situation she was in, before it was attacked by a searing migraine.

Slumped in an alley, in a fluid that smelt worryingly like a concentrated version of the liquor she had been pumping into her system. She felt her pockets. Purse gone .Typical. Her hair had dirt and the debris of the alley matted into it. She felt certain she could cry over her condition, but her body was far too dehydrated to muster tears. She had tried running, but her past was always a second behind her. She had tried forgiveness, but had found it all so unforgivable. And finally, even the inebriation alcoholic ponies boasted the merits of had only staved off the inevitable. Evading her past had been another failure on a list longer than her foreleg. She now had only one option, grab it head on, and become it’s master. She needed to get away from Canterlot, somewhere where ponies knew the bitterness of The Great and Powerful Trixie, and not the little filly that hid inside. She thought of a town. The last town she had performed at. If there were a place she could finally settle down and be at peace, it was that idyllic village she had left behind. She’d show them the true Trixie, not the embittered mare they had seen on stage.

        *                *                *                *                *                *

Marshal lead Inmate 402 back to her cell. Somewhere in his mind, he pondered her sentence. Clearly her psychological health was being affected by the Alicorn band, he’d raised the concern with his superiors, who had scoffed at the idea of caring for prisoners. He agreed that the sentence decided be carried out, but surely it was better to fix a broken pony than punish her to death. He’d been threatened with insubordination, and as punishment, had been assigned to her personally. He’d considered it his duty since to ensure both her safety, and the safety of the ponies she meant. Not exactly an easy assignment, nor a successful one.

“Okay 402. Night time, have a good one.”

“Pffft, I’ll just sit and stare at Luna’s moon some more, eh? Maybe I could howl at it again.”

Marshal cringed. “Just as long as you don’t cause any trouble 402.”

“Oh Marsh, why so serious?” She giggled in her maddened, high-pitched voice she occasionally lapsed into. “I have the whole night to think about this wonderful world, through that tiny letterbox in the wall you guys call a window.”

“Accommodation isn’t my concern 402. Just aiming to keep mutual safety between you and the other prisoners.”

“Mmhmm, and that’s where I’m sorry Marshal, really.” Marshal turned towards her, curious. He was met by her foreleg crashing into the side of his throat. His blood flow to the brain interrupted by the attack, he fell unconscious after a few seconds. Soundlessly, he fell to the floor, where Inmate 402 caught him midway. He was such a sweetheart, always keeping an extra eye on her. She pecked him on the cheek, and gently lowered him to the floor. Unconscious but unharmed, he lay on the floor at her hooves. She pulled the keys from his person and unlocked her cuffs. First forelegs, then hindlegs, then that infernal band around her chest. She breathed freely as that weight fell off her, carefully lowering them to the floor.

Now the hard part. She stalked through the corridors, aiming for the roof. She could hit the security detail there and open an escape route for herself. Moving more quietly than a pony had ever done before, she slipped past tired guards getting ready for the nightshift. But she was alert as ever, the band intended to punish her had become an ace card. However her confidence was not.

She pirouetted around a corner, straight into a guard. He let out a shout, reaching for his truncheon. A strike to the shoulder, then uppercut to the chin, and he was out of action. But the damage was done, and she heard the hurried clip-clopping of guards rushing towards her. Things were about to get loud, fast. All pretence of stealth discarded, she sprinted for her exit. Alarms rang, they’d found the body. Security would be arming up. And 402 knew what that meant. A guard turned around the corner ahead of her, crossbow shouldered, she was in a corridor with nowhere to run. The dart flew and hit her in the shoulder. It barely pierced, but she played across the edge of consciousness as she ran. Ketamine darts, horse apples, they’d slow her down, but not stop her. She giggled as she ran into the still-reloading guard, bowling him to the floor. Skirting round, she found the staircase. Pushing up, every stair a leap, almost free! She pounded the flagstones as the sound of crossbows firing below her lagged behind the bolts pattering off the walls.

She burst through a door, the roof opened up around her. So close she could barely breathe. Then they appeared, from every corner, every doorway, guards armed with crossbows brimming with Ket. Terrific.

“Oh boys. Now now, there’s enough to go around, let’s be gentlecoltly about this.”

“Step down 402 and allow the officer to cuff you. First strike.”

“When I’m so close? Pffft, I won’t even have Marshal for company now. How lonely will those ninety years be?”

“Stand down. Allow yourself to be cuffed, or we will fire. Strike two.”

402 hesitated. “Oh okay.” She held both her hooves out for the oncoming guard, who approached her with extreme trepidation, perfect. He got close to her...just a little closer and boo. She grabbed his hoof, pulling him around and getting a foreleg around his neck. She backed towards the edge of the roof, ever closer to freedom.

“Step down guards.” She cackled as some of the guards put down their weapons. A bark from the head guard made them raise them again, however. “Oh, if that’s how it’ll play out. I’m not sure how many darts this little colt can take.” She shook the irritated stallion in her arms.

“Third strike, gentlecolts Open fire.”

Darts peppered both 402 and her hostage. She lingered on the edge of consciousness, but as planned, never slipped out of it. Confusion spread as the guard she had held fell to the floor, probably suffering an overdose. She brought herself to a two-hoofed stand, slipping her sleeve back and kissing the Alicorn band.

“She has a band! Move to apprehend, fire will be ineffective!”

“Oh boys, there’s something else on my file you forgot.” She strained muscles that had lain unused for eight years, her plan relied on this final effort. The fabric on her back ripped, and was torn open as her wings spread forth. Regal blue burst from her orange uniform. She shot the head guard a cheeky wink as she skydived from the edge of the roof, and swore she saw his crossbow arc through the air behind her.

The fresh air, the beautiful night, the euphoria of long forgotten freedom. She had the entirety of Equestria to enjoy, and a hundred years of immortality to enjoy it with. She ripped off her uniform mid-air, revealing her regal-blue coat and emerald mane. Her cutie mark, a nightshade flower, was revealed, she stroked it with a hoof as she flew. Deadly beauty, her in a nutshell. Velvet Storm flew through the air, her freedom stretching out below her. She glided over the tall walls marking the perimeter of the prison, feeling the bolts from below. The perimeter guards’ last-ditch attempt to stop her. A speck against the starry canvas of the night, she glided over the cliff-edge that marked the edge of Canterlot. It was then the Alicorn band betrayed her. It seared red-hot, burning her ankle in mid flight. Where it had once held her mind in a permanent state of consciousness, it now rushed to snuff it out. Her concentration slipped from her grasp, and she began to fall at an accelerating speed towards the cold stone of the Canterlot mountainside.

        *                *                *                *                *                *

Author Notes:

Well here’s the pre-penultimate chapter. Yeh, that’s about it. The next chapter, A Little Piece of Heaven, will be followed by one final chapter, Warmness on the Soul. I aim to wrap up the story so that I can never resurrect it. I don’t want to draw this out and ruin it.

So thanks to the pre-readers, thanks to the community, and thanks to Hasbro for such an awesome show. Oscar speech aside, the next fic will be a doozy in length compared with this. Much will happen, and happiness and sadness are planned. But in the end, I want a happy story for my sad Trixie, and everypony else too.

This fanfic is a continuation of the fanon set forth by I Won’t See You Tonight, and it’s subsequent chapters.

A Little Piece of Heaven

CoffeeGrunt

Image courtesy of MixerMike622

The sun filtered through the leafy branches, dappling Trixie’s coat in its shadow. She welcomed the shade, not only did it keep the powerful summer sun off her back, but it also gave her a paper-thin disguise against the other ponies in the town. The weather was amazing, if you weren’t a pony that had just walked half of the Inter-Equestrian highway from Canterlot that is. Whoever worked up there, hated clouds. There wasn’t a single one in the sky, only the occasional wispy remnant of ones that had been brutalised by the resident cloud-hater.

Trixie had done a lot of scenery admiring lately. Perusing an exquisite house as a couple walked by her, ogling a simply excellent selection of cakes as the shop owner stared her down, and sampling the beautiful weather as pegasus ponies perched themselves on the rooftops and glared at her. Yes, while her bold plan had been to gallop into Ponyville and make them love her, in the end her reputation here was still fairly strong. She had yet to even meet the ponies she’d brought on stage either. That was going to be like a trip to the moon.

It was whenTrixie was admiring a simply devine al fresco cafe that she heard the yell. Somepony blindsided her, the words “twitchy tail” rang in her ears as she was tackled to the ground by a pink pony who apparently had personal-space issues. It wasn’t until a second afterwards - while Trixie was fighting to regain her breath - that she saw the pile of furniture crash on the spot she had been using as her architectural admiration vantage point. Trixie fought to sputter words out, still winded by the impact. The earth-mare was strong.

“What..the...hay!?”

The pink mare cocked her head to one side and giggled. “Oh you silly filly, you should be more careful where you’re standing. It’s lucky your Auntie Pinkie was walking by and got a really bad twitchy tail and fast heart, then saw you and Derpy up there.” She raised a hoof towards the sky, and Trixie could make out a grey pegasus being berated by a removal team for dropping the cargo. “And I knew that my pinkie sense was telling me to save you from getting all squished!”

“So...you get twitchy tails and fast heart-rates whenever someone’s in danger?”

“Oh no, I only get the twitchy tail  when something’s about to fall. I never got a fast heart before, so I figured it meant I should save you. I don’t make the rules, I just kinda do what my body tells me to.”

Trixie’s face contorted in confusion. A psychiatrist was definitely needed to help work this one out.

“Oh. My. Gosh! You’re new!” The pink mare began to bound up and down in front of Trixie, who took the moment to stand up next to her. “New new new new NEW! My name’s Pinkie Pie, it’s so super fun and awesome to meet you!” She seized Trixie’s hoof and began shaking it exuberantly.

“Umm...yeh, My name’s Trixie. I...haven’t been here before.” She saw looks from eavesdroppers nearby that clearly spelled “horse-apples.”

“You know what that means! You have to meet everypony! I know everypony in this town and everypony knows me. You’ll have loads of friends in no time at all!”

“Oh...I’m not really ready to meet lots of ponies. I just want a quiet life. I don’t even have a house yet.” She laughed nervously, having spent the last two hours wandering aimlessly around the town, scared to ask anypony for directions.

“Oh that’s okay. Tell ya what, how about I meet ya for lunch, and bring my friends along? They’re super-cool ponies, especially Rainbow Dash. Oh! You’ll love her sonic rainbooms!”

“Sonic...rainbooms?”

Pinkie Pie sighed. “You’re just like Twilight. Oh! If you want to get along with her, read loads of books. She loves books!”

“Okay... will do. Where do I go to ask about housing?”

Pinkie stood to attention. She began jabbing her forelegs out sharply, accentuating her speech. “You take a left. Then a right. Then two lefts. Four rights. Then look for the big circley building. Talk to Mayor mare, she sorts all that stuff out.”

“Thanks Pinkie.” Trixie chanced a smile that for once wasn’t put on for her audience.”Where do you want to meet afterwards then?”

“Just come to Sugarcube Corner. It’s the big bakery over there.” She jabbed another hoof out at a building that looked as though it was simply made of cake. “I’ll go round up my friends and we’ll be waiting on you to come back with a nice, new house!”

Trixie’s smile was no longer a half-effort. A new house, life, and potential circle of friends? Her move to Ponyville might just turn out as she’d hoped. She’d finally taken her past head-on, and came up trumps. Her optimism lightened her legs and cooled her from the hot sun as she cantered her way to the Mayor’s Office.

        *                *                *                *                *                *                

“Name?”

“Trixie. T-R-I-X-I-E.”

The elderly mare scribbled another note onto the parchment, never looking up at Trixie.

“Title?”

“Ummm...’The Great and Powerful.” Trixie saw a smile appear on the mayor’s lips. “But uhh...’Miss’ will do.”

“Miss Trixie... What’s your occupation?”

Trixie fidgeted in her chair, trying to get comfy on the plain wooden seat. “Showmare...retired. I’ll take whatever you have going really.”

The mayor nodded her head lightly in acknowledgement. “It appears we do have a house, a family is moving to Manehattan and leaving the house behind.”

Trixie chuckled nervously. “Well, they were hardly going to bring it with them.”

“You’d be surprised, Miss Trixie. Especially Pegasi cloud homes.”

Trixie’s nervous laughter died in her throat. “So, where’s the house? Is it out on the edge of town, somewhere nice and...quiet?”

“More or less on the outskirts. Small, detached house. Two bedrooms, fairly decent size. I’m afraid the family isn’t moving out for another week. They’ve only just started moving the furniture today, actually.”

“Was it a grey pegasus mare delivering them?”

“Oh yes, I believe our resident mailmare gave them a hoof. She... has her problems, Celestia bless her, but she pulls through.”

Trixie remembered the pile of furniture that had crashed to the ground inches away from her.

“They may want a new employee then.” Trixie chuckled, this time a little less nervously than before.

“Perhaps. Well, I’ll see you in a week to collect the keys. I trust you have somewhere to stay until then?”

“I spent years on the road, I’ll sort something out ‘til then. Thanks again, mayor.”

“No thank you. I hope you become a happy part of our community.” The mayor smiled as Trixie trotted out the door, snapping it away as she resumed her massive payload of paperwork that lay on her desk. For such a small town, she had ever so much to sort through.

Trixie stepped out once more into the sun. She was no longer evading the attention of the Ponyville locals as she practically pranced her way through the streets to Sugarcube Corner. She wasn’t sure where her filly-like excitement came from... maybe it was the idea of having friends, or being somewhere new. A luxury she hadn’t had for... such a long time. She extinguished the embers of her memories. She had ponies who’d care about her and talk to her, and all the other things friends do. A massive grin was plastered over her face as she nudged the bakery door open and cantered inside. She saw the ponies congregated around the table. Pinkie sat with a yellow pegasus she didn’t recognise, and that Rainbow mare from the show. Trixie’s spine chilled as she saw the other mares, the cowfilly who she had hog-tied, and the purple unicorn who had defeated the Ursa... who had saved her life.

Trixie’s grin slumped off her face. But that was nothing compared to the expressions of the other ponies. Confusion on the lavender unicorn’s face passed to downright anger on the rainbow pegasus'. Pinkie seemed unaware of the sudden absolute-zero temperature the room had taken on as she trotted over to Trixie and crushed her under a massive hug. She spun around, waving a hoof in front of Trixie like a show pony.

“Hey girls, I’d like you to meet Trixie. She’s a new mare in town and I wanted to make sure she’d have lots of new friends to go with her nice new life. Rarity couldn’t make it because she had a bunch of dresses to make. She runs the boutique here, she even made us all dresses for the gala!”

It was the cowfilly who was first to speak, her glare was locked onto Trixie. Oddly calculative for the situation. “Oh, we’ve met before all right. Ah don’t forget nopony who makes a foal ah me.”

Trixie’s cheeks began to warm, then the indignant pegasus burst forth, the cowfilly grabbing her rainbow-streaked tail in her teeth. “AJ let me go. Lemme at ‘er! I’ll show her who’s Great and Powerful!”

“Sith dowm, sheeth not wuth it!” The “AJ” struggled to both hold the rainbow pegasus back and speak, but the angry mare took her message and sat back down, still glaring daggers at Trixie.

The yellow pegasus looked confused, and whispered something to the purple one. Trixie turned to Pinkie, who only had one foreleg around her now, seemingly having finally caught on to the sudden freeze-up.

“Why...why is everypony acting so crazy?”

“Because you brought her here? Why’d you bring her here, didn’t we tell you about Trixie, Pinkie?” Apparently the rainbow one could hold a grudge.

“Umm, nuh-uh! Dash, I think I’d remember if you told me about her, she’s new here. Oh! Is she like an old high school friend like Gilda?”

“She’s no friend, but she’s just like Gilda!”

It was at this point that the purple one spoke out against ‘Dash.’ “Well I don’t think that’s fair Dash. I mean sure Trixie is boastful, but she wasn’t exactly bullying people.”

Dash crossed her forelegs. “Says the one who wasn’t put in a rainado then shocked with a thunderbolt.” Trixie’s cheeks flared violet, this was getting out of hoof.

“Hey, she didn’t tie y’all up with an apple in yer mouth like a pig!”

“Yeah well, thunderbolts are worse!”

“Nuh-uh. I’m pretty sure gettin’ tied-up is worse.” AJ shunted her snout right up to Dash as if it were a challenge.

“Then you’ve obviously nev-.”

“Seriously girls?” The purple unicorn cut in, thankfully. “Are we really going to compare how much Trixie wronged us like a contest?”

Dash muttered something nopony else could make out, then huffed up with her forelegs crossed.

“She’s not like Gilda, Dashie.” Pinkie Pie piped up. “I can tell whether a pony’s a meany mcmean pants like Gilda, and Trixie isn’t like that.”

Trixie’s heart started to pound. She’d never had another pony to fight her battles for her, it had been her against Equestria all the way. She finally found her voice, and made up her mind.

“I’m sorry.”

Dash and AJ froze up for a second. “Wha-?” They exclaimed simultaneously.

“I’m sorry. For embarrassing you in front of a crowd, for mistreating and hurting you. It was unfair of me to challenge my audience...unshowmarely.” Trixie levelled her gaze at the ponies around the table, taking the empty seat originally planned for her. “I don’t expect you to forget, I’m just asking you to forgive.”

        *                *                *                *                *                *

The rest of the lunch had passed on a slowly improving gradient. There had been a small argument, AJ, (or “AppleJack” as Trixie later found out), had decided to give her the benefit of the doubt after Pinkie had told them “everypony deserves a second chance.” Dash hadn’t been so willing, and Trixie still sensed the frosty nature in her speech. Twilight, as it turned out, was Princess Celestia’s personal student. Apparently she was still studying magic and such, so she was actually very interested in Trixie’s own brand of showmare magic. Trixie actually had a fairly comfortable conversation with her in comparison with the others. In the end the ponies left for their different jobs, and Trixie helped Pinkie clear up - finding out she actually lived above the bakery.

“So Trixie...how’d your house-huntin’ go?” There was a curious trepidation in Pinkie’s voice, just below the hyper overtone.

“Oh...I talked to the mayor mare. She said they’d have something in a week, but I guess I could just...stay in an inn or-?”

“Oh no! There’s no inns in Ponyville anyway, so you couldn’t do that, and I could hardly let you sleep under a bridge. What sorta friend would I be then? You can stay here - I have a spare bed, not that we’d share a bed, that’d be silly and all squashed up. We could have a like...a week of sleepovers!”

“That sounds fun.” A grin streaked across Trixie’s face. “I suppose you could show me around Ponyville for the week, all the fun places to go and such?”

“Yeah, that’d be super fun. We could make cupcakes too! I love making cupcakes, we wouldn’t need any of the others, unless you want them to come. Do you want them to come? They might be busy with work and studying and stuff.” Pinkie was carrying an enormous smile across her face that helped Trixie forget the friction with her friends.

“Whatever you wanna do Pinkie. I’ve gotta say, I’m pretty tired from all the walking and talking I’ve done today.” She yawned, stretching her forelegs upwards. “That comfy spare bed you have sounds really nice right now.”

Pinkie helped Trixie to bed, even going so far as to tuck her in. Trixie wriggled into the mattress to get comfier, she could get used to friendship treatment like this. Soon the trials of the day dulled her mind, and she fell asleep. For the first time in years her subconscious didn't torment her with dreams about her past.

        *                *                *                *                *                *                

Trixie’s mind blearily regained it’s momentum, sluggishly starting to regain it’s consciousness. She stretched out under her covers, it was almost like how she imagined sleeping on a cloud would be. Years on inn beds had done her back no good, but she could get used to this static living deal. She opened her eyes and saw Pinkie standing next to her bed, a tray held between her teeth. On it was a stack of steaming pancakes coated in syrup, muffins, cupcakes, even a mug of nettle tea. Trixie’s stomach growled at the sight of the spread, a little too loudly for her comfort.

Pinkie deposited the tray onto the bed next to where Trixie lay, the wafting smell of fresh bakery goods crept into Trixie’s nose.

“Hey Trixie! I made these for you because I figured you’d be up soon. I didn’t wanna wake you because that wouldn’t be very nice and you looked so comfy anyway, and you said you were all tired from walking. I think they’re still warm, I gotta go get ready for today while you eat up.”

Trixie started eating the spread as Pinkie exited the room. The pancakes were perfect, fluffy and light to contrast the thick, sweet syrup strewn over them. The muffins and cupcakes were likewise fluffy, the blueberry flavoured ones in particular being her favourite, though she wasn’t exactly complaining about the rest.

After finishing her breakfast, Trixie fixed up the bed with a flick of her magic. As she cantered down the steps, she was met with the presence of Pinkie in the bakery, with a white unicorn. No, that white unicorn! She wasn’t ready for more confrontations, how did Pinkie know all these ponies!? Although as she approached her,Trixie sensed that a slandering match was the last thing the seemingly cultured pony wanted, she trotted up to her, extending a nervous hoof to shake. The white unicorn took it in hers and shook, then with a sincere nod she released her hold. A light cough vented from her lips, evidently she still held her ladylike demeanour Trixie remembered.

“I’m really sorry, about what happened at the show with your hair.”

The white unicorn seemed to cringe at the memory of her fashion wound. “Oh no dear, it’s quite alright, Fluttershy told me about your...apology last night. My name’s Rarity, I don’t believe we’ve been officially introduced.”

“Mine’s Trixie. A pleasure to uhh...meet you.”

“Likewise, I imagine you dropped your title?”

Trixie blushed. “It didn’t seem...fitting, afterwards.” She winced as she realised what the loss of her title meant to her.

“Well, hopefully this will put a smile on your face.” With a flourished motion Rarity opened her saddlebag and withdrew a cloak, then the hat that paired with it. The tattered shreds still held their night sky-like sheen of deep purple, with stars smattering the surface. Tears welled in Trixie’s eyes, and she forced a smile for Rarity as she accepted the return of the possessions she had thought long lost.

Looking at the outfit, it almost had been. The fabric was ripped and punctured at many points, the sheen was faded in some areas as the magic held within had bled from the wounds. Yet Trixie still cuddled it as she had on so many nights before. She slowly wrapped it around herself, the familiar feeling of the soft, silky fabric enveloping her body. She breath a sigh of relief, as though she’d just had a lung returned to her.

“I’m ever so sorry I couldn’t repair it. However the fabric turned out to be Arcotton, extremely rare,” she indicated a hoof towards the cloak, “as I’m sure you’re more than aware of. I saw it and thought that despite it’s...ownership, it was definitely an item worth saving.” She smiled at Trixie, a genuine smile, not her usual high-society faked affair. “Now that I can apply that sentiment to the owner, I’m glad I kept it.”

Trixie blushed, awoken from her trance by Rarity’s words. “Thank you Rarity, both this gift and those words mean a lot to me.”

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t repair it, but it would take precise magic, and by it’s nature, only the owner may apply such magic to it.”

“I never knew it was special in such a way. It’s always meant a lot to me in a...different way.” She shrouded herself tightly in the cloak. It was comforting to feel it once again. She’d find a way to repair it, although in her heart she wanted it to remain tattered and untampered. A reminder of what she’d done to her dream.

In the end Rarity had talked with Trixie about how best to repair it, Trixie had listened intently, in case she ever changed her mind. Soon the white lady left, another order of exquisite dresses required her attention and she had little time left to complete her designs. Trixie and Pinkie were soon left alone, and Trixie retired to a corner. Pinkie sat down next to her, watching Trixie caress the smooth fabric she shrouded herself in.

“Hey Trixie, you okay?”

Trixie looked up from her cloak. “Couldn’t be better. I’ve missed this for so long, it’s like part of myself now.” Both a smile and tears shared her face.

“Where’d you get it-?” Pinkie questioned, but halted as she saw Trixie shake her head slowly.

“There’s some stories a mare never tells. Maybe one day...but not today, sorry.”

Pinkie nodded, and wrapped a comforting leg around Trixie’s shoulders. Trixie welcomed the sensation, it felt calming as her memories came back to her once again. But with a friend by her side, they didn’t sting quite as much as before.

The next day Trixie was awoken with the same cheery breakfast-in-bed routine. She was slightly embarrassed, and made a mental note that she should return the favour to Pinkie at some point. It didn’t seem fair that the pink mare should look after her so well while she simply accepted it. For most of that day, they baked various foods, and a large array of inedible lumps of char-grilled cupcakes that ended up resembling coal. In the end they muddled together something fairly edible, and smothered it in icing until it tasted good.

It was then that Trixie remembered a recipe she’d had in her cloak pocket. The result of much begging and pleading, and even threw a private show the maker’s family just to get a hold of it. She whipped out the piece of paper and showed it to Pinkie, surprisingly still intact despite the cloak’s damage.

“We should make this.” She hoofed the paper to Pinkie, who stared at it pensively.

“What is it? Is it a cupcake recipe or something?”

“Better. This recipe is only known in one town, on one little island in the Españiard seas. They call it the 'coco de patata.'”

“I duno if I wanna eat it, I don’t normally eat dog food, it normally tastes all yucky.”

“Trust me, I had to throw a special show just for them to get it. When I tasted it, I knew I wanted it. They put a spell on this paper so that if I ever try to sell the recipe, the cakes will always turn out wrong, or burnt.”

“Well if you went to all that trouble, I guess we can try it. If they’re as super-tasty as you say, then they gotta be worth a bite!”

The steaming cakes were ejected from the oven by Trixie’s careful magic. The smell of the cakes wafted over to her as she levitated the tray onto the counter. They were still hot, but that didn’t stop Pinkie from grabbing one and eating it whole. As she chewed happily on the cake, she knelt down into a cupboard and extracted a bottle of hot sauce. Smothering another cake in the fiery condiment, she pounded it down with a happy giggle.

Trixie giggled as she saw the mare burn her way through the pile of cakes. It wasn't until they were all gone that that Pinkie allowed a sigh to vent from her lips, and rubbed her stomach with her hoof.

“Y'know...I was kinda hoping to have some too Pinkie.” Trixie's giggles continue as she levelled a hoof at the empty tray. “We were meant to share them.”

Pinkie joined in Trixie's giggling fits. “Well you gotta be faster than that! Especially with those cakes, those cakes are great! We need to make more. Make sure you grab yourself some this time.” Pinkie stuck a cheeky tongue out at Trixie, who playfully cuffed her with a hoof.

“Don't make me make you give me some!”

Pinkie brandished the spatula in her teeth like a sword. “Oh yeah? We'll see about that miss Great and Powerful!” The threat would've had more impact if it weren't interrupted by her hysterics.

“I'll show you who's Great and Powerful!” Trixie brandished her cloak like an old vampony from the old Bridleway plays. Pinkie giggled, mocking fear as she tried to defend herself with a wooden spoon. For a hair of a second, Trixie thought that they must look like the most immature pair of fillies in all Equestria, but at that moment she didn't care. They were having too much fun to care about anything, really.

        *                *                *                *                *                *

Trixie awoke once more the next morning, but this time there was no cheery greeting or a tray of delicious breakfast. She looked at the clock, it wasn't early, but if Pinkie had slept in she may have a chance to return the favour for once. She checked in Pinkie's room, but found the bed already made. Odd. She continued downstairs, the kitchen was untouched, exempt from the usual Pinkie Pie culinary debris she'd begun to notice. Instead there was Pinkie sitting at the dining table. Her once puffed-out hair lay in straight, downward strands over her shoulders. Her coat even seemed less vibrant, although it may have been the lack of light. All the curtains were drawn, shrouding the room in a twilight ambience.

Trixie then heard the sobs. Short. Sharp. Pinkie's shoulders heaved in time with them as she sat there, Trixie drew closer, treading softly as hooves would allow so she wouldn't startle her. A piece of paper sat in Pinkie's hooves, and Trixie didn't need her friend's special sense to tell it was the cause of the tears. She drew a chair and sat next to Pinkie. She was barely acknowledged. It struck Trixie how little experience she had dealing with other ponies, the best she could managed was a concerned question.

“Pinkie...are you okay?”

Pinkie turned towards her, her pink eyes puffed up red. She saw the concern etched into Trixie's features, and hoofed her the letter. Trixie gingerly took it, and read the contents:

Dear Miss Pinkamina Diane Pie,

                        We regret to inform you on behalf of the Equestrian Registrar, that on the 27th of November at 8PM, your younger sister Miss Greyotrina Dolores Pie passed away due to her illness. Her state funded funeral is being held in the Canterlot Royal Sisters' Cemetery this Sunday. Your father requested we send this message to you, so that you may attend.

Our Condolences,

Mortis Scribe.

Trixie sat the letter down on the table, she looked into Pinkie's eyes. So deep, so hurt. They reminded her of times she had looked in the mirror. She couldn't allow her friend to suffer what she had. She needed to help her, no matter what.

“Pinkie.” She took Pinkie's hoof in hers, which elicited her attention. “I am so. Sorry. It wasn't right of me to push my snout into your family business, but...I have something I need to tell you. When I’m done, I hope you’ll understand why I didn’t want to tell you before.”

Pinkie saw the sincerity in Trixie's eyes through the tears in her own. She nodded, and Trixie began.

At first it had hurt. For so long she had evaded and buried her fillyhood, to unearth it and lay it bare for Pinkie now was painful. As Trixie progressed, the poverty of her foalhood, the loss of her mother, living as a street urchin. It all began to lift. A story she had never shared, always shouldering the burden on her own. For her part, Pinkie listened intently, her vibrant eyes now somber as Trixie recounted her debut night, the message from her stage manager. As Trixie recounted her last promise to Cassandra, tears once more came to her eyes. She looked back at Pinkie, having recited the story to the table top. Trixie hadn't even used her eyes the whole time, she just sat...remembering and relaying her past. She saw tears falling down from Pinkie's eyes, and at that moment Pinkie understood the motive behind the secret.

“I've never told anypony else before. I always kept it down, hid it away. But she deserves better than that, I can see it now. Her story shouldn't be kept hidden away by me alone. Thanks for listening, Pinkie.”

Pinkie reached out her forelegs and gave Trixie a soft hug. The two sat there for an unknown time, each comforting the other's wounds. In the end it was Pinkie who broke off the embrace. She looked into Trixie's eyes, her own carried a sincerity she rarely used.

“I..I want you to do my speech for me then, Trixie.”

Trixie was taken aback. “Pinkie, I don't know if that's right. You have lots of other friends who'd know you better.”

“I do Trixie. But I..I just can't find the words for it, but you found words for me perfectly. You knew how I felt, how I still feel. I want you to do this for me. Don't make me plead.”

Even though Trixie hadn't known Pinkie for very long, she felt the uncharacteristic seriousness in her now-level voice. Part of her wanted to do it, to release more of her burden and tell her sister's story. The other part realised it would do anything for a chance to see another smile on those pink lips.

        *                *                *                *                *                *

The funeral hung over the week like a dark cloud, as Pinkie and Trixie waited for the moment to come.  Pinkie's friends had come to pay their condolences, and Pinkie asked them to come along to support her. She needed all the moral support she could get with this, and Trixie was rarely far from her side with a comforting foreleg, until the day itself came.

Trixie's nerves reached meteoric levels as she sat in the rows of chairs. The frail body of Pinkie's sister was revealed. Barely more than a filly, her youth startled Trixie. That one so young could be taken by a simple illness shocked her. The last rites were read by the vicar in attendance, and Pinkie's father took the stand for his speech. He spoke of his beloved daughter, his youngest little fire now extinguished. The stallion made no effort to hold back his tears, there were times when even the most stallionly colts admitted their emotions were too strong for them. In the end he retired to his seat, embracing his wife as they shared their grief for their little filly.

Pinkie sat a hoof on Trixie's leg, and nodded. She had been changing her mind on whether or not to take the speech herself for the days leading up to it many times. In this last moment, it seemed she had made her final decision. Trixie took a deep breath, then rose as a roomful of eyes appraised her. She trotted slowly to the altar where Pinkie's father had made his speech. She had thought of what to say, rehearsed it as was her shomare's wont. But at that moment as she looked over the congregated mourners, it all dissolved away.

She coughed to clear her throat, and began. “I imagine you are all sitting here, wondering what in Equestria gives me the right to take Pinkie's place. To speak for her about a filly I never had the pleasure of meeting.” Her eyes aligned on Pinkie's friends, who had taken the row behind her and Pinkie's own. She found them giving her encouraging glances, and soldiered on.

“The problem is, not any of us can say with a certainty that we know what death is. It is one of life's great mysteries, that the culmination ends in it's greatest secret. I have had a lot of time to question the world over this, because I've suffered a loss just like Pinkie had.” She gulped, here would come the hard part.

Once more she told her story, small details this time, about what her loss had inflicted on her.

“It was at that moment when I saw Pinkie crying at the table, the letter in her hoof, that I realised that Pinkie saved me from a pit of corrupt, hateful grief. I wanted to do whatever I could so that she wouldn't become as torn apart by her loss as I was. I'm the living testament that when a pony dies, a little part of everyone they knew dies with her. For some ponies it's a small chip, for others it's a gaping wound that seems beyond healing.”

She stopped for breath, and to shunt back her tears.

“And so, I always remembered my sister's last verse as an actress, as she recounted it to me on her deathbed.” The tears had overran her defences, so she let them come. It was a poem that had never left her thoughts, she remembered it as well as her own name.

”All Equestria's a stage,

and all the stallions and mares merely players;

they have their exits and their entrances,

and one mare in her time plays many parts.

I think everpony here can take a little solace in those words. In the end we all meet up together, and I’m sure Greyotrina is happily awaiting you all with the rest of our lost loved ones. Thank you.”

Trixie inclined her head to the congregated mourners, and stepped down from the pedestal, evading their eyes, simply making her way to her seat next to Pinkie. She sat down, relief flooded over her. Pinkie reached a foreleg around her, a thanks whispered in her ear. Trixie managed a half-smile as Pinkie lay her head on her shoulder. Trixie owed a lot to the mad, pink mare. She had both literally and figuratively saved her life. She rested her head against Pinkie's, and watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground. Pinkie wouldn't suffer her fate. She had this extensive family, loving friends, and if all those failed, she had her.

The funeral ended, and the mourners began to leave for their far-off homes. It was as Trixie made to leave that she felt a soft prod on her shoulder, she turned, and saw the sincere face of Pinkie's father staring at her.

“Mr Pie, I'm so sorry for your loss. Pinkie asked me to speak for her, she said she couldn't find the words.”

“But you did. And I thank you. You didn't just speak for Pinkamina, you spoke for me too. I hope you find closure with the loss of your sister.”

“And I hope you and your family find closure with the loss of your daughter.” The words seemed to elicit an almost unnoticeable wince from Papa Pie.

“I aim to. A life wasted on grief means that two ponies were lost today, not one. The last thing I want is Pinkie getting eaten up by her grief. With you by her side, I'm sure she'll be okay. For once in that little filly's life, I can say she made a great choice.”

And with that he turned, making towards the train station that would bear him back to his simple rock farm in Whinnysota. Trixie never did find out what he felt she was a good choice in, she became aware of Rainbow Dash at her side. The pegasus seemed uncomfortable, but pushed through it as she spoke.

“I just wanna tell you Trixie, since Pinkie likes you so much, I suppose we're gunna have to make nice.” She offered a hoof to Trixie, and Trixie accepted it.

“I'm just glad we're not mortal enemies. I think it'd be better for Pinkie if her two friends were friends themselves.”

“Yeh, heheh, her two...friends.” She shot Trixie a curious look, then set off into the blue sky on her way home.

Trixie noticed Pinkie's presence at her side. Her withered locks were slightly more voluminous, as though somepony had gently reinflated a balloon. She took Trixie's hoof in hers, and shared a soft smile. They left for the hot air balloon, and began the long journey back home.

        *                *                *                *                *                *

The next morning Trixie had delivered on her promise, and woken up early to make Pinkie her breakfast. The earth mare's hair still hadn't regained it's puffiness, and she was still quite distant, but Trixie still endeavored to make her feel as comfortable as possible. It wasn't a duty as such, she enjoyed it. It felt so good to have somepony to look after, who needed her. Trixie knew that Pinkie had a rough road ahead of her, so she wanted to be there with a helping hoof to stop her grief turning her into...well, whatever you would call the type of pony Trixie had become. She sighed as she cleaned up the dishes, her gesture had only received a weak thanks and a smile, a shadow of the ones she had been greeted with these past few days.

It was then that Trixie sat down at the table, her cloak arrayed on it before her. Still tattered and unrepaired, she caressed it softly with a hoof, lifting the ragged edges gingerly. She had intended to keep it like this, as a reminder of what she became, but was it really necessary to use it for those memories? She remembered happier times parading as a magician, nothing more than a filly's fantasy. Those are what would come to her as she wore this cloak now, the joy of performing for crowds. A gift left tattered is disrespectful to the giver, and Trixie knew what she wanted to do with it now. She focused her magic, lifting the shredded garment up above her. It draped itself before her like a derelict curtain, the fabric still shimmered despite the bleeding of the magic held within.

She started to redouble her efforts, compounding her will onto the ripped seams. Slowly, they came together, not stitched like a simple garment. The frayed ends joined each other, individual fibers twisting and reconnecting as though no damage had been done. The rips were welded shut, flawless and seamless as the wounds healed. Trixie finished her labour of love, and focused further. She poured her magic into the cloak, it greedily ate it up, the stars became brilliant pinpricks of light against the now empty black of the cloak. It took on the darkness only the infinite tracts of space could hold, yet the light of the stars scattered across it made it seem more regal than gothic. Trixie smiled as she clasped the diamond around her neck, and allowed the repaired cloak to envelop her once more.

So deeply engrossed in her repair job was she, that she never noticed a certain pink pony watching from the bottom of the staircase. In fact it wasn't until Pinkie laid a hoof on her shoulder that she acknowledged her, with a startled yelp. Pinkie giggled.

“Gotcha!” She whispered in Trixie's ear.

“You only startled me, I have my new cloak, you shall not defeat The New and Improved Trixie!” Once more she paraded like a foal, only now, the cloak matched the theatrics.

Pinkie's giggles continued as she watched the pantomiming blue unicorn. “Silly filly, you think a nice cloak is going to impress me?”

“You like it? I wanted to make sure it was perfect.”

“It is...it suits you.”

Trixie was about to question what the pink pony meant by that, until a knock at the door cut off her line of thought. She shot a weak smile at Pinkie, and flipped the door open with her magic. Twilight was treated to the sight of Trixie standing regally in her flowing night-sky cloak, Pinkie standing by her side with an odd smile on her face.

“Oh sorry, I'm not too early am I? I didn't know if you two wanted more time to yourselves.”

Trixie's expression turned from imposing to bemused. “Oh, it's okay. I think Pinkie's over the worst of it now, at least, I hope you are.” She turned to her roompony, who's vibrant pink coat and flamboyant mane had returned. As had her smile, seeing it only made Trixie smile more. “Twilight must think we're both grinning idiots.”

Twilight coughed. “Yes, the funeral. Well, I've been...researching these last few days, and I found something...something I felt I should let you know. You know, if you want to hear it.”

“I don't see why not.”

Twilight's cheeks started to burn red. “Well...I found a spell, that will let a pony enter the afterlife. Well, entering is easy, but it creates a lifeline to come back with.”

Trixie was dumbstruck. One thought hit her, hard. Could she bear to see her again? To reveal to her both the failure of her promise and their dream? In the end Trixie turned to Pinkie for guidance.

“What do you want to do?” She chanced a smile, wary of the chain-reaction it caused.

Pinkie's face remained thoughtful. “If I could see my family one last time...” She trailed off into nothing, staring past Twilight out into the street. After a moment, she came back to her senses. “I'll do it, if Trixie comes with me. It might be scary over there, I want somepony to look after me.” She turned and smiled at Trixie. “Y'know, if you want to go.”

Trixie nodded slowly, then walked with her as Twilight lead them to the library where everything was set up.

Twilight stood over everypony, explaining the ritual. She levitated a heavy, leather tome in front of her as she spoke, occasionally riffling through pages to find the segment she needed. “Right, the book says the spell consists of three parts. 'The Anchor, the Chain and the Vessel. Visiting the afterlife appears to be like sailing, without an anchor, the vessel will be lost in the waves.'”

She gulped, her look of fear shared by everpony there. Pinkie squeezed Trixie's hoof harder, her nerves visibly building under the surface. “'The Anchor is a ring of ponies, focused by the diagrams.'” She waved a hoof at the ring of her friends, each had locked hooves to make the circle complete. “'One unicorn must be present in the Anchor to make the connection to the Chain.' Rarity, that's you. 'The Vessel must be of at least two ponies, one of which must be a unicorn. A light vessel on harsh waves will capsize easier than a weighted vessel. The unicorn also establishes the magical connection to the chain.'”

Here Twilight reached the worrying part, her role. “'The Chain is the point where the greatest stress is applied, if it is too weak, it will break, and the Vessel will be lost. It is therefore recommended the strongest unicorn take this role, for the sake of those in the vessel.'” Twilight halted. Was she really willing to place the lives of two friends on her magical talent?

It was Pinkie who spoke out from the nervous silence. She gave Twilight a light hug and a reassuring smile. “I trust you, you're the best magician I've met, and a better friend.”

Still holding Trixie's hoof, she led them both into their position as the Vessel, where they lay. It was necessary, as standing while their minds were removed would result in their bodies being dropped to the floor. She nodded to Twilight, and turned to Trixie, who saw the cracks in her brave facade.

Twilight moved into her position, dead center in the circle. Her horn glowed, arcing onto Rarity's, then Trixie's own. Trixie's mind began to lighten, her vision fading. The last thing she saw was Pinkie's face, her fear seeping through the cracks. Soon Trixie had left her body, no sight, or any other senses presented themselves. Just her thoughts. Then, from the edges of her perception, she felt a presence. Pinkie. She saw her mind, her thoughts. They unravelled before her like birthday wrapping being torn from a present. Irresistibly, it all flooded into Trixie's mind, her penchant for hot sauce and bakery goods, her love for her pet Gummy, her happiness in her friends being with her. It did not slow, however, it began to speed up, more and more revealed itself, the wrapping became darker, more dank. Deeper memories. A tea party with rocks and a bucket of turnips, a depressed childhood on a rock farm, Trixie found herself unwilling to continue, but unable to stop. She reached the core of Pinkie's mind, a great, crushing sphere of fear. Her fear of being alone. It flooded into Trixie's mind, the eternal worry of one who was never truly secure in their friendships. One who needed more than friends who would be there if they could, but a pony who would be there no matter what.

As Pinkie's memories folded into her own, her presence did too. Pinkie's thoughts flowed in concert with Trixie's. They came so thick and fast, but Trixie could feel the undertone now. The voice in her subconscious she was always trying to drown out with her endless speech and partying. It was then Trixie understood Pinkie for what she was, and were she able to cry over the sad state of her mind, she would have done extensively. The facade shattered before her, the sad, little filly within revealed.

The merging completed, and Trixie felt Pinkie's thoughts fall superfluously within her own. So much of them were about her. One small voice broke free from the furore.

“Trixie? Are you there?”

“Don't worry Pinkie, Auntie Trixie's right here with you.”

Trixie felt Pinkie's relief. Not an expression of it like a contented sigh or a smile, but the raw, unfiltered emotion that motivated these gestures. “Trixie. Please...don't go anywhere.”

“Don't worry Pinkie, we're going to get through this together, okay?”

Her thoughts were cut short as another flood of relief emanated from Pinkie's psyche. The rapid flow of her thoughts seemed to lessen, and she seemed to slip into contentment. Trixie felt the sensation of them both being squeezed. Concentrated into a single, minute point. A rush erupted around them, though neither could feel nor sense it, they were both fully aware of it anyway. Fear crept back into Pinkie's mind, but Trixie reassured her. They would both go together. Their minds were overthrown by a flare of light, it enveloped them both with a searing fire. They passed through unhindered however, emerging at long last into the Great Beyond.

        *                *                *                *                *                *

Infinity is impossible for the pony mind to imagine. Even the greatest dreamers have filters and limits on their perceptions. However, as Trixie and Pinkie entered the afterlife, that is what they soon experienced. They were a collected puff of smoke rapidly diffusing into a smog of ponies that had entered before them. Some had been resting here for millenia, ancient caveponies from darker times, others had been alive only this morning, still coming to terms with their own death. Both the intrepid adventurers found themselves surrounded by billions of ponies, looking into Trixie and Pinkie's memories while sharing their own. They were greeted by a thousand different cultures, but language was not a barrier. No words were uttered, no writing shared. Instead of these worldly translations the ponies collected here shared the core thoughts these languages tried to convey. The feelings that were universal to ponykind past, present and future. Were Trixie and Pinkie still in their bodies, they would have gone insane from the rate of thought transfer tearing through their minds. However, here the mind was unlimited by the physical body, and it could achieve far more than anypony living could even imagine.

Trixie felt Pinkie's mind leap with joy. She tried to find the source, but it was lost in the smog. She hoped the earth pony had found who she was looking for, Trixie still combed the ether around her. A billion ponies were conversing with her but she only wanted one. She focused her mind on the memory, a young, beautiful ruby-red mare. A beaming, motherly smile and sympathetic eyes. The immortal image Trixie had held for all these years. Soon the flood of knowledge lessened, it became more focused the more she focused on her image. She remembered the golden mane, how it flowed in the wind. The slight over-acting in her mannerisms, the playful faces she made with Trixie. The search narrowed, inquisitive minds probed her memories of this pony then disappeared, spreading the word of the search.

Soon the search party faded altogether. Trixie's desperation mounted, she had come so far, been through so much. She needed to find her! Then, a small nudge touched at the edge of her mind, barely even a thought. She refocused on the source, and found her. Shimmering red coat and golden mane, and those eyes. The result of the memories of twenty ponies' viewpoints, all joined together to create the perfect reproduction. Cassandra smiled, a tear escaped the edge of her eye. Her smile turned to a sad one, but with a rueful edge.

“Oh little sis, whatever have you done?”

Trixie felt the crushing weight of Cassandra's disappointment. “I...I'm so sorry Cass. It was so hard, to go without you after all that time. I broke my promise, I let you down.”

Cassandra returned that smile. The one she had greeted Trixie with for so many years. Lucid, understanding, caring. She flooded Trixie's mind with emotion. She flooded it with pride.

“Oh my little sister, all alone in the world. I can see it, see all of it. I want you to know, you never for one second let me down. Anypony who can bear a burden like you and still put on a show to make an audience smile is worthy of only the greatest rewards.”

“But...our dream? I never got it, never got famous for us.”

“Life is about more than success Trixie. It's only after you die that you learn such lessons. Sadly there's no chance to go back after you learn how to do it. That's why I want you to take it now, it's a rare insight you've been given – coming here. I want you to make me a new promise Trixie, one which you must never break until the day you die.”

Trixie's mind flared. Could she bear to let her down? Would Cassandra forgive her a second time? Looking into those kind eyes, she understood that Cassandra spoke the truth, she could never let her big sister down. “What is it sis, what do you want me to do?”

“Be happy. I want you to keep that promise every day, until you grow old and come back here. I don't care what, where, or who makes you happy, so long as you are Trixie. It's all I ever wanted for you, a happy life outside the poverty we were born into. You have a good chance for a lot of things with that new friend of yours.” Cassandra's image gave a slight, sly grin.

“Pinkie? She's just a friend, we've only just met.”

“And yet so many of your thoughts are about her, even now as you meet me after all these years. I'm kinda jealous little sis.” Cassandra winked at her, her grin extending across her face.

“If there's one thing I regret now, it's not chasing love. Take it from a filly who knows, I can see into both your thoughts, we all can. You're both thinking a lot about each other, without actually thinking.”

“You think Pinkie..?”

“I know she does Trixie, and if you still care about the taboo, I approve anyway. Otherwise I'd be quite the hypocrite.”

If Trixie had cheeks they'd be blushing, “You mean Velvet?”

“Yes...it saddens me I'll have to wait ninety years to atone my sins with her. I never thought about other ponies back then, but now I can see that's all I should have done. Don't make my mistakes Trixie, take what's there with both hooves and don't let go.”

“Thank you sis...I won't let you down.”

“Sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Odd, you seem to be fading out, I can't feel your memories so clearly.”

“I said 'thank you.'”

“You're returning Trixie...slipping back to the real world. Goodbye little sister, for now. Bring happy memories of a full life for me next time.”

Cassandra's image turned away as if walking down an invisible road. It began to scatter, the composite memories that made it falling away one-by-one. She faded from view as Trixie was once more reunited with Pinkie, with the pony who's love she had mistaken for friendship for all this time. She could see it all now, laid bare on Pinkie's thoughts. At the core it wasn't a pony that she needed to be there for her, but the pony. Trixie peeled back the paper-thin facade and saw herself and Pinkie, dreams of a long life together. From the depths of her own mind her sister’s memories stirred, dreams she had dismissed as a result of her lack of friendship making ability.

They passed once more through the fire, splitting off from each other as they exited. Pinkie's presence was torn from Trixie's mind, and she felt the cold, empty loneliness of mortality as she was committed back to her body.

        *                *                *                *                *                *

Her body. She had used it for years, it had been with her since the start, and yet, the operation of such a delicate and complex machine eluded Trixie. The sound of her heart pounding thudded in her ears. Her eyes remained unopened, how to even operate the many tiny muscles required to do so seemed impossible to her now. As short as her visit to the afterlife had been, she'd almost lost the ability to control her own body. Her mind also seemed so slow now, even a bit sluggish. Clamped in and limited by the overly complex body that contained it. She twitched a hind leg, then raised a hoof to her head to scratch it. Good, those were fairly simple, not exactly delicate motions. Now she tried the complicated little eyelids. They fluttered for a few seconds, then opened to unleash the harsh light of the room onto her retinas. It took them a few minutes to focus and clarify her surroundings.

The ring of ponies had tightened around her and Pinkie, worry was etched on everypony who looked down on the two as they reasserted themselves with their bodies. Twilight looked terrible, she was coated in sweat and seemed barely conscious herself. The spell must have tried every ounce of her magical reserves. Trixie shivered as she imagined what would have happened to them both had Twilight's powers given out.

She rolled over to find Pinkie already staring at her. They shared a weak smile as they saw each other, both seemed to share the same thought. The sudden emptiness in their minds after they had been split apart once more. Trixie reached out a hoof to Pinkie, and she took it. They both lay there, neither willing to break the eye contact that had welded them together. That is, not until a thud alerted them back to Twilight. She lay sprawled on the ground, limbs at awkward angles. Trixie mustered all her strength and sat up, crawling over to the prone pony. Twilight's breathing was shallow and laboured. She needed a doctor.

The wards of the Ponyville hospital were strangely cold and modern in contrast to the rustic architecture of the rest of the town. White walls and sterile floors greeted the worried group as they sat in the waiting room, hoping for help with their friend. Trixie wrapped a foreleg around Pinkie, who seemed most worried. Trixie could tell she was probably blaming herself for making Twilight do the spell for her. She calmed down a bit when Trixie wrapped a leg around her. The earth pony laid her head on Trixie's shoulder. It took half an hour for the doctor to emerge from Twilight's room, but it barely seemed like any time at all for the two. The sound of the door opening caught everypony’s attention, and they all looked at the doctor, awaiting the news.

The doctor fidgeted at the sudden attention directed at him. “Well, your friend's going to be okay, so there's no need to worry. We've got her stable now, she just needs some bed rest.”

It was Pinkie who spoke first. “How long for doc? She isn't too bad, right?”

“Oh no, no, no. She simply over exerted her magic. She's awake now, she'll just need to take it easy for the next few days, no more complex spells if she can avoid it.”

A collective sigh of relief filled the waiting room. “Ah suppose we can't see her now, given she's only just woken up?” Applejack had been tapping her hooves with worry the whole time.

“Oh no, she's quite okay to receive visitors. Just...no crowding please, and keep the noise down for her sake. She has quite the headache as you can imagine.”

The group rushed into the room, and ignoring the doctors orders, Twilight found herself receiving a myriad of hugs and worried cries from all directions. She tried to shunt them off, then gave up as they insistently held onto her.

“Girls please. I'm okay, just a little exhausted.”

“Ah little? You clean went out on us in the middle o' the floor. Gave us quite the scare Twi.”

“Sorry about that, really I am. I ended the spell as I noticed my energy beginning to run out. I apologise for cutting your... visit short, but I imagine you'd prefer it to staying there.” She directed herself towards Pinkie and Trixie, who stood awkwardly as the group turned on them.

“Umm, well...I'm not-”

“What she wants to say is 'thank you Twilight.'” Pinkie cut in.

“Oh and you know what I was gunna say?” She shot Pinkie a playful grin.

“Well duh!” She tapped Trixie's head with a hoof. “I got a nice look inside that ol' head of yours.” They both looked at each other for a second, then laughed. The ponies around them seemed confused, but it was Twilight that voiced herself.

“You...saw into each other's minds?”

Trixie blushed. “Well...you see when you sent us in, our thoughts sorta...mixed together. Then in the afterlife itself, they mixed with everypony there.” She put a hoof to her head, it overexerted her brain to even remember the mass of information that flowed through her in the other realm.

Twilight's face lit up with joy. “This is fascinating! You say the minds of everypony in the afterlife are joined? I need you both to write down everything you can remember about it, I'm stuck off studying and magic for a few days.” She pouted at the doctor, who sternly nodded. “So you'll have to write down everything you remember to prevent you from forgetting!”

Twilight's two little researchers chuckled. “No problem, it's the least we could do for you, I guess.” Twilight grinned, before the doctor ushered everyone out so she could rest – mostly against their will. Rainbow Dash exited the room with Applejack dragging her by the tail. While Rarity simply whined at the doctor until Twilight herself asked her to leave, for the sake of her headache.

The ponies went their separate ways, apart from Trixie and Pinkie. They retired to Sugarcube Corner together, and as Celestia's sun gave way for Luna's moonrise, they discussed what they had experienced in the afterlife.

“Do you remember it all? My head hurts just thinking about it! I mean, I remember that it was big...like really big. Bigger than the biggest thing I can imagine!”

Trixie smiled. “You mean it was infinite?”

“Yeah, but it was so weird, talking to millions and millions of ponies at once. It'd be a great place for a party at least. Did you... did you find your sister?”

Trixie's smiled weakened, then regained it's strength plus some. “Yes...yes I did. She...told me some things, apparently thoughts are impossible to hide there.”

“I found my Grannie Pie. She told me some... things too.”

Trixie's smile had turned to more of a sly grin. “What sort of 'things' did she tell you?” She giggled, as she already knew the answer.

“I dunno Trixie, what did your sister tell you?” Pinkie stuck her tongue out, the two ponies slowly moving closer to each other, challenging each other.

“My sister... she told me how to shut you up.” Trixie let a wink slip out.

Pinkie's face became a challenge against Trixie. “Oh yeah?” She grinned maniacally at Trixie, the two ponies' faces barely an inch away. Trixie moved first, she locked her lips onto Pinkie's, who had been anticipating it. The two never moved for the longest time, seemingly welded together at the lips. Eventually they broke off, each giggling at the other.

“Yeah...yeah she did.” They locked lips again, more passionately than before. Trixie flicked the bedroom lights off with her horn, and the two were plunged into the privacy of Luna's night..

        *                *                *                *                *                *

Winter roamed through the streets of Ponyville. With it came the light, fluffy snowflakes painstakingly manufactured by the pegasi ponies in Cloudsdale. They flurried through the wide, rural streets, coating little fillies and colts who revelled in the day out of school. Ponies continued about their business, whether it was work or play. On the edge of town there was a small house, the redecoration of which had barely been finished. Two ponies lay in front of the fireplace, enjoying the warmth of both the flames and each other. Before them lay a photo album, barely more than a couple of pages yet it brought infinite joy to the two as they perused it.

The pink one turned to her blue mate, curiosity playing across her face with the light from the fire. She seemed hesitant, almost worried about the reaction her planned sentence would bring. She cleared her throat, and Trixie lifted her gaze to her's.

“This album is really, really cool and all. But...it's a bit empty with just us two, dontcha think?” She smiled warmly as Trixie tried to decipher what she meant.

“Well...this is for just us. We have another one with our friends in it too. Would you like me to get that one out?”

“Oh no, no, no. Not that our friends aren't cool, but...you remember when our minds got all mixed together?”

Trixie grinned. “How could I ever forget?”

Pinkie grinned, but more nervously than her partner. She tapped her forehooves together before speaking. “Can you imagine...if we got like...a little pony that was a mix between the two of us? For this album?”

Trixie saw through Pinkie's ruse. She was always bad at deceit, she never attempted it normally and Trixie loved her all the more for it. “You mean...like a foal, for example?”

Pinkie grinned as her flimsy ploy was found out. “Yeah...if, I dunno if we could Trixie. But I've been thinking about it for weeks and weeks, and I really want one...with you.”

Trixie smiled, and an idea formed in her head. “Well. Two mares can't normally have kids...but it's happened. I reckon if anypony can help us-.”

“Twilight? Maybe her super-duper magic could do something. We should go see her now and ask!”

“Oh no, we should wait. She's doing stuff for Celestia today, and it wouldn't be fair to cut her off from that for us.”

“Yeah...it would be kinda rude. But tomorrow, we'll do it tomorrow?”

“I promise.”

“You swear?” Pinkie grinned at Trixie, who ran a hoof across her chest, flapped her forelegs, then rammed a hoof into her eye. She sat and smiled at Pinkie after she had finished.

“I Trinkie Pie swear.”

Author Notes:

Well, that’s it fillies and gentlecolts, I got tired of writing a depressing story, so engineered a happy ending. Considering all the bases that needed covering I felt I’ve done fairly well with this. Also I got the opportunity to ship Trixie with Pinkie, why has this not been done before?

So that’s it...series is over, for now. It’s been fun writing and giving a little something back to the community. It’s not exactly star-6 material, but hell, I don’t want that attention anyway. Only makes everyone’s expectations higher. I have another fic, that if all goes to plan will be landing sometime after friday. Just after we defeat Rebecca Black. It’s another thing I’m minorly disappointed that noone has seemed to got onto ED. It’s unlikely I’m the first to try, so I doubt I’ll be the first to succeed.

Also Inmate 402/Velvet Storm is...somewhere else. Not in Ponyville, so she didn’t seem relevant. Sorry. She’ll appear somewhere else at some point in time.