Villainy
Chapter 5: Differences of Opinion
It took Trixie a few seconds to fully comprehend the situation she was in as Twilight Sparkle, favored student of Princess Celestia herself and the kindling at the core of the fire that had consumed Trixie’s career, gave her the most infuriatingly earnest look that anypony could ever muster. Trixie glowered in response, her face only a twitch away from being twisted into a snarl. The two guardsponies in the room shifted slightly, put on alert by Trixie’s overt hostility. Trixie backed away from Twilight in response, taking a moment to regain her composure. “Why has Trixie been summoned here?”
Twilight was taken aback somewhat by the sheer hatred radiating from Trixie, and awkwardly shuffled around a few notecards that had been sitting on the nearby coffee table. “Um, well, I just kinda felt bad about how things turned out last time we met. The last I heard of you was from that article in the Foal Free-”
“Don’t you dare speak of those insolent brats and their slanderous lies around Trixie!” Trixie found herself wanting to break off Twilight’s horn and stick it where Celestia’s sun wouldn’t dare to shine, but the overbearing presence of the two guards behind her stayed her hoof from any of the more drastic actions currently occupying her thoughts. “Trixie doesn’t want your pity, nor is Trixie interested in absolving you of your guilty conscience. Why don’t you go back to your little backwater and pal around with your friends while Trixie works to undo the damage you foals did to her reputation and tries to actually earn a living instead of mooching off of the favoritism of the Princess!”
Twilight faltered. This wasn’t what she had imagined at all. Trixie was supposed to understand, the wounds were supposed to mend, and they were supposed to at least be on civil terms, if not share a new friendship. “I just want to make things right, Trixie. I-I know you had a hard time after Ponyville, and you got a lot of blame placed on you that wasn’t entirely yours, and I just wanted to try and see if I could make up for some of that.”
“You... want to make things RIGHT?!” Trixie roared in response. “You want to make things right?! Okay, Twilight Sparkle, if you want to make things better, then go live by yourself, drifting from town to town, barely scraping a living off of the pathetic hooffuls of bits that you earn from entertaining foals or performing magic tricks on the street. Live without any money, any friends, or any dignity, then come back to me, you insolent, spoiled brat! You’ve had everything you’ve ever wanted handed to you on a silver platter, and you think you can relate to me?!”
Twilight was on the verge of tears now “But I-”
“Go to Tartarus, Twilight Sparkle.” Trixie stood up, intent on leaving the room.
“Wait!” Twilight called after Trixie, trying to speak past shallow breaths and barely contained tears. “I...I can see now, you’ll never forgive us... you’ll never forgive me. I just wanted to do the right thing. I saved what I could of your belongings from your wagon, Trixie. Just take them, and then you can go. If for some reason you ever change your mind about putting all of this to rest, I’ll be in Ponyville.” Twilight levitated a box towards Trixie, who opened it barely enough to see a scrap of blue fabric before her own breath began to catch. Left without anything to say and a tide of emotions she wasn’t quite ready to deal with, Trixie fled.
- - - -
Trixie charged through the theater, clutching the small box of her possessions in a telekinetic death-grip, and didn’t stop until she had reached the office-turned-bedroom that Grayscale had assigned to her for use while she wasn’t traveling. Nervously drawing in her breath, she opened the box, carefully examining its contents. The first thing she pulled out was an old photograph, depicting Trixie with her parents, back when she had first gotten her mark. Those had been simpler times, and even though Trixie’s parents had always disapproved of Trixie’s career path, they’d always wanted her to be happy, and Trixie found herself a little homesick. Setting the photograph aside, Trixie pulled out a modest sack of bits and a somewhat ruined piece of paper that depicted a rudimentary blueprint of a fold-out light display; Trixie had still been adding on to her old cart before Ponyville. The last two things to come out were a hat and a cape, both bearing a matching blue-with-white-stars motif. Trixie felt her breath catch again as she saw the shoddy repair work done on a few of the more obvious rips that the set had suffered when the Ursa Minor had stomped her old cart into splinters. Trixie’s mind went blank as she saw the pathetic state that her parents’ gift was in, caught between the need to scream in rage at Twilight and the need to curl into a ball and sob at the destruction of the last piece of her old life, and her last link to home.
As Trixie began to lean toward the latter of the two options, a knock on the door ripped her away from her thoughts. Trixie desperately tried to regather the shattered pieces of her composure. “Come in,” Trixie said softly.
The door opened to reveal Grayscale, who wore a concerned expression. “Some of the other ponies told me that you’d come in looking pretty distraught. I thought I’d come and see if you were okay.” Grayscale glanced at the box and its unloaded contents. “Looks like you might have had a run-in with the past today. Care to talk about it?”
Trixie wanted to tell him no, that the Great and Powerful Trixie needed nopony to lean on, nopony to cry on, but she found herself too tired to resist. After explaining the events of the day to Grayscale in a quiet, subdued tone, Grayscale took on a pensive facial expression as he remained in the chair he had seated himself in during Trixie’s tale. After a few moments, he spoke. “You probably aren’t going to want to hear this, Trixie, but I don’t think that Twilight Sparkle ever meant to do you any wrong. From what you’ve told me of the events in Ponyville, and of your encounter today, I think that she would have rather avoided the situation entirely, and only stepped in when she felt her home and friends were threatened.”
“But-but Trixie lost everything there! Her home, her reputation, everything! Twilight is the only one to blame for what Trixie has gone through,” stammered Trixie, clutching her cape closely like a foal’s security blanket.
“Why does blame need to be placed, Trixie? Bad things happen in life. Circumstance and our lapses of judgment create situations where nopony wins. You had no way of knowing that your exaggerations would prompt those colts to bring in an Ursa, nor could Twilight Sparkle know that the mere act of saving her home would ruin your career. Sometimes, bad things simply happen,” Grayscale replied softly. “Wouldn’t it be better to band together in times of pain and hurt?”
Trixie sighed. “It’s just so embittering. Trixie has worked hard for everything she ever had, and in an instant all of her hard work is destroyed while Twilight Sparkle is fed happiness from the silver spoon of royal favor. She gets to be a hero just for being born with a lot of magical power, while hard working Trixie loses everything over a misunderstanding.”
Grayscale sighed. “This is the greatest injustice of life, for those born into power to keep it while those without it fight with all of their strength just to get by. It’s a terrible result of millennia of inequality, but Twilight Sparkle is not at fault for this. If anything she is doing her best to bridge the gap, living in a backwater when she could have the trappings of royalty. Perhaps you should give her a second chance. She might be a bit different than you think.”
Trixie nodded, letting her head droop slightly. “Trixie will consider your words,” she conceded grudgingly.
Grayscale nodded and smiled. “That’s all I’ll ever ask... except for the part where you have a new job tomorrow. When you’re feeling up to it, come see me in my office and I’ll give you the particulars."
- - - -
“Things are getting more serious faster than I anticipated, but I think I might have a lead on something that will give us a large advantage on the Canterlot brewery. They’ve been buying a lot of weapons lately, and I think they’re getting ready for a major offensive against us.” Grayscale turned away from his audience and pointed toward a map. “In between Ponyville and Hoofington. two days from now, a convoy containing weapons, alcohol, and a very, very important pony will be making a pit stop a little past the border of the Everfree forest. Trixie, I want you to put on a show tomorrow in Hoofington. The wet-work there has already been done, so Hotshot and his boys won’t be joining you until after you’re done there.”
“Trixie will do as you wish. When do we leave?” Trixie sat in Grayscale’s office alongside Hotshot and Hurricane, who had been summoned to the room shortly after Trixie had arrived. “Trixie still has one last performance scheduled here before she is ready to depart, and she does not wish to have a schedule conflict.”
“Don’t worry, Trixie, I already factored in your performance schedule,” said Grayscale reassuringly. “Everything will be set for your departure an hour after your afternoon performance today. Just don’t wear yourself out too much, you need to be fresh for your performance in Hoofington.”
“Who is this pony that you say is so important?” asked Hotshot. “Do we kill him?” His ears subsequently drooped a little upon seeing Trixie flinch very visibly. “Err, sorry, Trixie.”
“No need to apologize to Trixie, Hotshot,” said Grayscale. “If anything, I should apologize for dropping her so suddenly into all of this. I normally would be a little gentler introducing somepony new to the business, but things have been heating up lately.”
Trixie stared at the floor for a moment. “Trixie requires no apology. She understood what she was getting into when she was offered this position. She just still has a few reservations about...well...”
Grayscale nodded. “If you didn’t have reservations about the more grisly side of our work, you wouldn’t belong with us. Believe me when I say that we’d coexist peacefully with our rivals if we could, but they have proven time and time again that they will not tolerate the existence of competition. That’s where all of this is heading though. The pony we’re after is a unicorn stallion named Mirage. His coat is sand colored, and his mane is an identical brown to Hotshot’s. He’s also a master illusionist responsible for keeping the Canterlot brewery concealed right under the nose of the palace. We get him, we can end this bloody rivalry once and for all. It’s bad enough that we have to operate outside of the scope of the law without being at each other’s throats. Now, you all have your missions. Good luck, everypony. Hurricane, please remain in my office for a while. You and I have things to discuss.”
Hotshot and Trixie filed out of Grayscale’s office, both of them showing various signs of discomfort in each other’s presence. After what seemed like hours walking towards the stairs, Hotshot broke first. “You think I’m a monster, don’t you?”
“Of course not! You and everypony else here have acted sterling to Trixie.” Her tone was reassuring, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. “All of this just takes getting used to. Trixie believes Grayscale when he says that he’d prefer an alternative, and Trixie knows that despite how shiny our society is on the outside, not all ponies get to avoid the darker parts.”
Hotshot’s gaze fell to the same spot on the floor that Trixie’s had been focused on. “We only fight in self-defence. I know I can come off as a bit light hearted when it comes to what I do, but I’ve seen too many good ponies die because of those Canterlot butchers. If I let my reservations get in the way of my job, more of our ponies die. The pony who had my job previously was soft-hearted, and he got half of Grayscale’s employees killed in one night of softness. It’s my job to protect everypony here, and if that means taking the fight to them, so be it.”
Trixie tilted her head. “Trixie has explained the reasons prompting her trepidation, yet you still seem quite unsettled and unsatisfied with this answer. Why is Trixie’s opinion so important to you?”
Hotshot laughed. “Sorry if I seem a little zealous on the subject of what I do for Grayscale, but whenever we get new blood around here, it’s always the same, at least at first. Everypony always assumes that I’m some sort of stone-hearted monster. I just want to protect my family, and this is the only way I know how. Me and my boys have the job that nopony else around here wants, and sometimes, being looked at like you’re a manticore fresh out of Everfree gets a little disheartening.”
As Trixie was forming her response, Hurricane approached the two. “Sorry if I’m interrupting girl talk time here, but you two are blocking the stairs.”
Hotshot rolled his eyes as he backed away from the stairs. “You’re hilarious, Hurricane.” After Hurricane had passed the two, Hotshot tilted his head. “That’s odd. Hurricane isn’t very joke-prone. Whatever Grayscale talked to him about must have put him in a good mood.”
“Indeed,” answered Trixie distantly. “In any case, fear not, Hotshot. Trixie understands the position you are in. It isn’t really something she can ever get used to, but Trixie isn’t a good enough mare to think of a better way to defend against our enemies.” Trixie paused for a moment before continuing softly. “I would do no less to save the lives of my family.”
Hotshot’s ears perked. “You slipped.”
Trixie did a double take. “Trixie begs your pardon?”
Hotshot laughed, and brought a few papers out of the saddlebags resting against his maroon coat, shuffling them idly. “You said ‘I’ instead of Trixie.”
“Trixie knows not of what you speak,” she huffed indignantly in response. “Trixie must take her leave of you, however, to get ready for her next performance. It has been a pleasure conversing with you, Hotshot.”
“Sure thing,” Hotshot said, and began to descend the stairs. “I gotta take inventory anyway. Some of our weapons have gone missing. See you after Hoofington, G-and-P-T.” Trixie couldn’t help but flinch at the nickname she hadn’t heard since Ponyville. As Trixie began preparing for her show, her thoughts were on Twilight Sparkle.
- - - -
Another successful show, and a pretty good haul in tips as well. Trixie was packed and ready to journey to Hoofington. Despite using the setting to embellish some of her stories prior to her career collapsing, she had never actually had a reason to visit the medium-sized settlement. It’s position between Ponyville and the rest of the world drew in a fair amount of the tourist travelers on their way to Ponyville to try and get a glimpse of the six national heroes known as the Elements of Harmony, many in particular drawn to that same infuriating mare that seemed to be a subject of many of Trixie’s thoughts lately. That same tourist traffic, however, served to attract a great many performers to the city, which, unlike rural Ponyville, had access to the conveniences of a decently sized city. While Trixie was not concerned that the quality of these tourist-trapping mares and stallions’ shows, Trixie knew as an experienced performer that an excess of talent created jaded audiences, and thus Trixie had always avoided the place. Nonetheless, it was time to finally pay the city a visit.
Maybe she’d stop by Ponyville afterward.