“She can kill with a smile/ She can wound with her eyes/ She can ruin your faith with her casual lies/ And she only reveals what she wants you to see/ She hides like a chick/But she's always a ma-are to me.” Gilda's naturally husky voice crooned out the words that passed along the karaoke screen, the mic held good and close to her beak, almost hugged to her keel.
Trixie cut in on the next verse, snuggling up close to Gilda, microphone held in her magical grip. “She can lead you to love/ She can take you or leave you/ She can ask for the truth/ But she'll never believe you/ And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free/ She steals like a thief/ But she's always a he-en to me.”
The two ladies pressed front-to-front, dropping the mics and ignoring the song as they melted into a passionate kiss, limbs entwining. They remained pressed together for a good, long while, Gilda stroking down Trixie's back, using her digits to tap out pleasant little melodies along Trixie's spine. When they finally parted, the griffiness leaned in and nuzzled at the mare's neck. “Told ya griffin songs were cool. Just change the word to “mare” and it was made for you, dude.”
Trixie had become an expert in affecting a look of wounded dignity, because it worked so well on her love. “Really? You think that sounds like me? That I, the Grrrrrreat and Powerful Trrrrixie, would wound you with my eyes? Well, they are powerful eyes. Perhaps you are right. And the song is good for you! Thieving griffin.” With a deft, acrobatic move Trixie danced around Gilda, sliding her body along the strong hen's powerfully muscular body. “You stole my heart. And didn't even apologize.”
“I take what I want. Griffins are powerful creatures and get all kinds of things. Like the prettiest mare in all Equestria.” Gilda's talons slid down Trixie's flanks, toying lightly with her Roani tail ribbon, while she traced burning hot kisses down along the mare's neck.
“Ah! Watch the ribbon! That is a very special and highly prized family heirloom.” Trixie flicked her tail about and wiggled her body in Gilda's grip.
Gilda gave her lover a playful-but-incredulous look, from just barely behind the feathery bangs. “'Family heirloom'? Dude, I was there when you bought that in that little boutique in Lower Canterlot Mountain after the fair show.”
“What I mean is that it is our family's heirloom. You do think we should have things like that, yes? And they should be prized and special?”
“Oh right... yea! Totally. Yea. Our family heirloom. Our family...” Gilda trailed off, slowly taking a seat while drawing Trixie in right against her powerfully muscled keel. “Ours.”
“Yes. Ours.” Trixie casually used her power to turn off the karaoke machine. “Like this. That was very kind of that club to give us this machine. And to pay us.”
“It's easy to be generous when there's an angry Bald scraping talons on your bar while you're blabbing about the hazards of being in a club. Those hooves did not belong on your flank no matter what. Crowded or not. You should have let me punch his horn into his chest.”
“The Great and Powerful Trixie does not condone gratuitous violence... often. Besides, we got a karaoke machine. It makes our lovely home all the homier. I never knew there was so much to having a home without wheels.”
“You always think flying free is the best thing in the world, until you're puking scrub liqueur and your guts out on the floor of some dive because you never bothered to settle somewhere. I thought I found freedom I could enjoy before. But... hey, let's forget that. We both found out there's something to this aerie thing. Bring your little Roa flank to the nest. I feel like dancing.”
Trixie gave her hindquarters a quick shimmy, shaking her natural dancer's body with a pleasant laugh. “Should I bring my cape and witch's hat? Should I take off my ribbon? What really excites a griffin besides the perfection of my body?”
Gilda licked her beak lasciviously as she climbed into her pillow-filled nest, staring at her equine partner with obvious, burning lust, and no small amount of love. “Leave the hat and cape off, but keep the ribbon. I love to watch that thing swing. And if I grab it just right and pull it just so I can bring you to all four knees in a neighing heap. It's just one of those special skills that makes me awesome.”
Trixie barked a derisive laugh, but with a gigantic blush coloring her cheeks while she gave her griffonic paramour a similar look of loving desire. “Ha! Your skills are nothing compared to those of Trixie. Surely, your little ribbon-trick is good for small time shows. But when it comes to the big-time only Trixie's feather-fluffer spell deserves to be called 'awesome' as you say. And of course, knowing exactly where you keep all six of your tugs. On the fly, with non-anchored magic.” As illustration, she let off a periwinkle burst of magic, six tendrils striking straight out at Gilda's exposed belly and lower chest, magical energy seeming to crackle over six pink spots.
Gilda tossed her head back with a restrained screech, a strong huff of breath puffing out through her beak, body twitching a tiny bit, rolling in the nest some. She sucked in a strong breath and released it as a huge sigh as she regained her composure. She then held up her talons and gave them a suggestive wiggle, showing off the ridges of the scaling on the digits, and the carefully-blunted claws at the ends. “Com'ere, dude. Lemmee show you my magic.”
- - -
“And I wish you joy and happiness./ But above all this, I wish you love./ And I-I will always love you...” The husky, deep voice of Dolly Patron resonated around Pinkie's room, a slight hiss from the record adding a richness and depth to it, enriching the ambiance all the more.
Pinkie was free to play such things. Songs by the likes of country crooner Patron were enjoyable even when the volume was low; she had warned her bosses early so they could securely settle the twins to bed in a timely fashion, meaning they were less likely to be bothered by hearing any noise; and because she had long ago soundproofed her room. Pinkie snuggled under her covers, a giant smile on her face. “I just love, love, love this song...”
“Don't forget to thank Applejack for lending you the record.” Twilight adopted a slightly-scolding tone, a teacher's voice. She then planted a kiss on Pinkie's ear and settled down against her. “Thank you for inviting me over tonight, Pinkie. Spike said he wanted to have the library to himself, and Owlowiscious can handle anything that might happen if Spike forgets to do it.”
“Awww, it's no problem, Twilight! I knew Spike wanted the library because I saw him stocking up on popcorn and sodas. And he wasn't wearing that weird robe. So he wanted to stay in.” Pinkie beamed proudly and started to playfully nibble on Twilight's neck.
“You're amazing, Pinkie. You notice all the little details. You're getting much better at investigation and clue reading. You're not the same pony that undertook that MMMM incident.”
“Ohmygosh! I'm not?! Oh no! Who am I, Twilight? Who am I? Has another mare been loving up my sweetie while I've been there, being not-me?” Pinkie clawed at the sheets and began to probe at herself with a manic energy.
“Awww, Pinkie. It's that point...” Twilight calmly embraced Pinkie and gave her comforting nuzzles. “I no longer find your zany histrionics frustrating. Now they're just adorable.”
“Thanks, Twilight!” Pinkie was back to normal in a flash, snuggling back against Twilight as if nothing had happened. “And I think all your silly-dilly episodes of blind panic and jumping to conclusions are super-duper sweety-cute too.”
“Heh. Yes.” Twilight blushed lightly and lipped over Pinkie's ear. “Well, I am trying to work on that, too. But don't worry, I won't change too much. After all, you fell in love with me, as me.”
“You'll always be you. In here.” Pinkie touched Twilight on her upper chest, right over her slowly-beating heart. “Cannonites are funny. The don't fit in well. But they still say nice things. No matter what happens on the outside, you're always you deep inside. That can never change.”
“P-pinkie...” The blush on Twilight's face deepened, and she snuggled up even more securely. “That's beautiful...” She then noticed that the music had stopped and there was only the hiss of dead air. “Oh, let me...” With a flash of magic Twilight flipped the record over and set the needle down.
Almost the instant the music came on Pinkie had popped out of the bed. “Oooooh! This is my jam!” From somewhere, she produced a gigantic and perfectly-fluffed blonde wig, and strapped a halter across her lower belly, which was stuffed with two very large pillows. “Working nine to five, what a way to make a living!” She sang, completely out of synch with the record and not caring in the slightest.
Twilight slid her hoof up against one cheek and regarded Pinkie with a bemused smile. “Do I still need to be here, looks like you're pretty entertained all on your own...” She gave the pink mare her best sultry, smoky hit of bedroom eyes.
“Sorry!” Pinkie swooped back into bed, practically tackling Twilight into the mattress. She coated the other mare's face with kisses and giggled. “How did you learn to do that? That's like the mares in those magazines Spike keeps under his bed.”
“He moved back to there, eh? Clever. He thought I'd never look in a spot I already checked. Gotcha again, Spike.” Twilight shook her head and grinned. “Sorry. Mother Mode kicked in. I'll be a little more reasonable with our foals.” She licked Pinkie's throat with the feather-softest touch of her tongue and ended with a flick off of her chin. “Everything is in books, or in magazines and videos. And I am very good at studying. I thought you might like bedroom eyes and 'come hither' looks. I've been told librarians are sexy. I forgot my glasses but I think I pulled it off.”
Pinkie responded with a long, hard, deep passionate kiss that seemed to consume and subsume both of them. Most amusingly, it caused a wild-magic spark to course up and down Twilight's horn, tiny flecks of energy leaping off to the spot on Pinkie's forehead where a horn would be on another unicorn. That seemed to set her to wiggling. The kiss ended a compressed-eternity later with a loud pop and the lingering slide of both tongues against one another. “I just love that sexy librarian look! Of course, I only know one sexy librarian. But you're really sexy. So that makes you like... two sexy librarians! Or maybe even three!”
Twilight was completely out of her element. Even though she had been with Pinkie for a long time, and had grown comfortable with her, mentally, physically and emotionally, she was still putty in her hooves, and a blushing machine before the mighty pink flatterer. “Pinkie... thank you.” She just kissed Pinkie again and let off a lavender spark at her forehead again.
“Woo! Now THAT'S a doozy!” Pinkie rolled her eyes into her head for a short moment and then shook her head, kissing Twilight a few times. “It makes me all tingly all over. Like I'm having a twitcha-twitch in ALL my spots.”
“That's hardly a surprise. Now that I know how it works, I know how to make it work for me. Your wild talent could benefit from a horn. But even without one your hyper-aware nerves are very responsive to my mana input. I can practically overload it. As you know.”
“Yea! Wednesday night. And Friday afternoon. And Saturday morning. And alternate Thursdays!” Pinkie cuddled up tight against Twilight's side. “I call it the snow melt, because it makes a great big flood right down...”
“Yes!” Twilight placed a hoof on Pinkie's lips, a blush consuming her face entirely. “Ahem. Yes. Well... let's just...” She took the record off the player and slid it back into the sleeve. Then she extinguished the lights and pulled Pinkie up to her. “It's Monday. No flood. But we have that thing you do...”
“Ooh yea! THAT thing. It works better with frosting, but you know I can make it work...”
- - -
“So, we got any shows lined up?” Gilda lay back in the nest on the mountain of colorful pillows, looking sated and also very contemplative. “You usually have a better head for this stuff. I just show up and fly.”
“Nothing for a few weeks. Our savings are sufficient to last in that time, and then some. Daj always complained about the headaches of managing a family. Stallions have it so easy, primping and decorating and able to shirk responsibilities. But at least there are two of us here.” Trixie ran a brush through her mane in front of one of the many mirrors in the house. “You're very good with the budget.”
“Hey, I had to live on my own for a long time, and cut off from easy money. And here I am, homeowner, fiancee, celebrity at the best venues the middle time can offer. With the hottest mare. Totally the hottest mare.” Gilda added the last bits with a start, smiling a familiar strained smile.
“Mmm, nice recovery, gadji. Kamaù tut, all the same.”
“Back atcha, mo chroi.” Gilda popped her eye ridges and winked at Trixie. “You coming back to the nest anytime soon?”
“Hold your lust, griffin! The great and powerful Trixie shall only be there when she has sufficiently beautified herself.” She giggled cutely to herself and stared into the mirror. Her image seemed to... distort. Just slightly, just around the edges. It wasn't the mirror warping, she was just seeing things differently. An image appeared, almost superimposed over her. That unicorn from Ponyville. The famous one. Twilight Sprinkle? Sparkle? Her face offset itself, just a bit. She had... a severe case of bedroom eyes. They were unsettling. Yet oddly...
“Hey! Something wrong?”
"Ah! N-no...” Trixie looked back at Gilda and smiled, breath coming in soft pants. “Nothing at all...” She turned back to the mirror. Nothing. Yet she had looked oddly... alluring.
- - -
“Ugh... how does she survive this?” Twilight was in Pinkie's bathroom, the private one she had paid to install for comfort and convenience. The main one was nice, but it was hardly private. With a personal one, they could soak in the tub for hours, playing with Gummy or staring into each other's eyes. They did that anyway. But there was something to it when they were soaking in a warm tub with bubble bath and a snack tray. Which sometimes included what had brought her to distress...
“Hot... sauce... cupcakes...” They were only doused in hot sauce. Pinkie had not yet perfected the integration of hot sauce into the cupcake matrix. But she loved pouring it over the treats. She called them “Pinkie Fuel.” Twilight called them indigestion. But oh how she ate them. Gobbled them down like the treats they were. To put that smile, that innocent, giggly smile on Pinkie's face it was more than worth it.
But the repercussions were unavoidable. She had already slugged down her usual one-two punch of antacid types, both the bismuth and the calcium carbonate. She was in the bathroom preparing the fully liquid remedy, part seltzer and part baking soda. There was certainly plenty of it at the bakery. She spooned a generous helping into the glass and hit it with regulated shots of the seltzer, making up a foamy concoction. She downed it in one huge gulp and sighed, before releasing a tremendous belch.
“That's love...” Twilight laughed softly and shook her head. “Real love is the moments we are imperfect.” She scribbled that observation on a note card, filing it away in her pile of cards, notes for a dissertation on romantic love. It would look good on her CV, even though she was already defending her thesis on friendship. It added to her prestige. And that... made Pinkie proud. She practically glowed when Twilight got a new honor.
She set the glass down and looked in the mirror. Mane disheveled, gassy look about her, tiny flecks of saliva at the corners of her mouth. Pinkie would say she was the most beautiful mare in the world. Then feed her a bit of Pinkie Fuel. But that was fine. More antacid couldn't hurt.
The mirror wavered. Or her image did. “Fascinating... it appears to be a distortion of the image itself and not the surface of the mirror. Magic of this type is very uncommon and typically...” The assessment ended when she actually looked at it closely. The second image resolved itself into a figure she could identify. It was the boastful mare. Trixie. Once a reformed scoundrel, now a small-time celebrity on the traveling show and local fair circuit. She was looking... sultry. Provocative. Her gaze was attractive. She was almost mouthing 'come hither.'
“Twilight! What did you want for lunch? Mrs. Cake says she'll make anything you want!” Pinkie called up from the bottom of the bakery, snapping her attention from the mirror.
“Uh... a daisy sandwich and hay fries! And an apple soda! Please!”
“Okie-dokie-lokie!”
Twilight turned back to the mirror, panting softly. Nothing there. She lit her horn and felt the traces on the mirror. Nothing. A normal mirror by all investigation. That was... disconcerting, to say the least.
- - -
"Maybe like this..." Trixie swept her mane up into a large beehive and examined it from several angles. She then stuck out her tongue and gave a raspberry, letting the hair fall. "Too high. I'll never get it under my hat." She then braided her mane into long rows that hung down the back of her head. "Hmmm. This is a popular look. The zebras swear by it. No. No, I cannot take another tradition..." She let the hair loose and started snaking chains of silver and gold through her mane. They wound around thick bundles of hair and settled there, lightly glinting as she turned her head. "Home traditions are the best."
The view in the mirror distorted again, with an accompanying heavy feeling running through the air, like an all-over press of mana that weighed on the thaumatic flow. The image of Twilight appeared once more, looking less like she was offset from Trixie's reflection and more like she was simply standing in a room accessed by the mirror. “Trixie...” Her voice was far more sultry than it had been during their two encounters. Thick, husky, an attempt to seduce.
“Wh-what do you want Sprinkle... Sparkle... whatever your name is? I moved on. And I'm happy. Why would you even try this? You chased me out of town.” Trixie slapped her hooves on either side of the mirror and pushed her face close to the surface. “Twice.”
“I want you, Trixie. I want you... you know it's true. It's our destiny to be together. Don't you know it? Don't you feel it all the time?” The mirror-Twilight moved closer to the surface of her side, her eyes almost seeming to smolder like embers, her tongue sliding out to lick her lips. “We are unicorns, and magically-inclined. What more could we need? That must be enough for an intimate relationship.”
“You're crazy!” Trixie pushed away from the mirror, repelled by the close approach of the magical image. “We hated each other! I tried to get drunk over that repulsion, even if we were supposed to part on good terms!” She raised a chair in her grip. “Get out of here. I have a good thing here.”
“You'll understand. You'll agree. It's inevitable.” The image slowly faded from the mirror. “It's our destiny...”
Trixie dashed up to the glass and peered deeply into it, seeking even the slightest trace of the other unicorn. She saw nothing, and realized that she felt nothing. The oppressive pressure of mana had vanished with the image. “I don't know where you went... but stay there.”
“Hey there, dude. Love the new mane-do. Redecorating?” Gilda strolled into the room, head slightly tilted in curiosity, noting the chair still held up in Trixie's magical grip.
“Yes. And... yes.” Trixie cleared her throat and slowly set the chair down at a slightly different angle from where it had been. “There. Perfect.” She quickly bounced her mane and smiled brightly to her love. “So... you really like it? It's just an old Roani tradition. Another way to put beauty in our lives in some small way. And with charms they make a wonderful jingle.”
“It's totally you, dude. I'll buy you all the little trinkets you want. Silver even. I remember that Roa like silver because it's representative of Luna.” Gilda sauntered up and nudged Trixie's flank. “And you thought I wasn't reading those books you gave me.”
Trixie gave a small smile and nuzzled under Gilda's beak. “I always knew you were paying attention.” The mirror's words rang in her ears. 'Inevitable. Destiny.' With some virtual stranger that knew nothing about her? Preposterous. She kissed at Gilda's beak. “And our phuri daj chose to visit us. Us! We're moving up in the world.”
“Maybe we can keep this place as a summer eyrie. It's rustic, and that's what Balds like; it makes us look like we're humble. My da was totally into that scat. He even thought other birds believed it.”
“I can't even imagine... it was never something I could conceive, having one home. But more than one... it's something Roa never even consider. Do you... do you really think we'll have two houses?”
“If I could, I'd buy you a thousand houses. And every one would be more beautiful than the last. But even if they had a hundred rooms none would ever be worthy of holding you.”
“Oh... oh...” A small blush smeared over the bridge of Trixie's snout, which quickly went away as she forcibly regained her composure. “I-I mean... that is very... lovely a sentiment. But it sounded rehearsed. Am I being given recycled adoration?”
“Heh. Yea, sorry. It's sort of a dweeby thing to say. It's an old line from the Kingdom, one of those ones we keep around and print on postcards and magnets for tourists. I used to just make fun of it. Now though... I kinda see it...” Gilda nibbled around Trixie's ear, huffing softly and making the mare twitch from the ticklish waft over the inner cup.
“I should say that I, the great and powerful Trixie, deserves and demands fresh and new promises, only the newest and most original praises. But... there is charm in your tradition. I will always respect tradition.” She looked aside at the mirror, eyes narrowing. For some reason she couldn't stop thinking about the unicorn in the mirror. And it was greatly disturbing to her.
- - -
Twilight was in her element, surrounded by a vast array of reactive chemicals quietly waiting in their vials and flasks and tubes while low fires burned under retorts and alembics. In addition to the lovely surroundings and fun possibilities Pinkie had Pinkie Promised to leave her alone unless it was a very true and genuine emergency based on a very, very exhaustive list that she had provided. Pinkie, being dedicated to her promises and to her relationship, would not try to loophole her way through.
She ran through her usual mixtures at first, the standard apothecary productions that she used to stock her medicine cabinet and first aid kit. It was an excellent warmup, muddling the herbs and mana-infused minerals, washing the mortar with the appropriate liquids into her distiller. There was a strange tactility to it, despite doing most of the work with her horn. She would move several things at once, moving them around her in a magical swirl.
She moved along into the recipes that Zecora had given her, using her own techniques, as opposed to the single-cauldron method generally favored in the Grand Veldt herbalist tradition. There was not a lot of difference to it, though it involved a lot of experimentation to get it right. As she had discovered by trial and, often embarrassing, error, the individual components interacted with one another in unique ways when not in the presence of others, requiring the mixing of those that did not react and then the infusion of the rest to have the proper outcome.
With her magical muscles stretched and limber she was up for light experimentation. She had been working on quicksilver analogues, trying to make liquids with similar mobile and visual properties to mercury but without the harmful physical properties. Safe quicksilver would be a boon to the entertainment industry, and make for a wonderful feather in her cap. Cross-discipline successes would also look quite impressive on her CV.
Her mixtures were not all that impressive. The viscosity always seemed wrong, the opacity varied badly and the reflectivity tended to be off, especially since the mixtures tended to settle. She still persisted, to have a personal project and to eat up some time before her regularly scheduled, list-noted date with Pinkie.
She was in fine form that day, churning out several potential liquids. They weren't perfect, but she had focused on just one element and finally gotten consistent reflectivity. The opacity meant most were too clear for use but they still reflected better than most liquids, and the viscosity wasn't quite right on any of them but they looked passable while still. It made her dorky heart swell, seeing all the containers of silvery liquid, each one's shortcomings looking to her like endless amounts of data that would tell her exactly how not to proceed and give her a focus for fixes.
She peered at one of the vials and gave it a soft tap, to see if the material would settle. There was a wavering through the liquid that slowly replaced Twilight's image with Trixie's. Once more she was looking sultry and seductive. The mana field was heavy, infused with some sort of powerful energy that seemed to vibrate in the field at a low frequency, creating an oppressive force that weighed on the sensitive. “Sparkle... the Great and Powerful Trixie has come to say we are meant to be.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Twilight looked in on the reflective substance. There was no distortion of the image, as there would be for a refection following the contours of the container. It was as though the liquid itself was an opening into the place where Trixie was standing. “Meant to be? That's ridiculous. We don't even like one another. You ran yourself out of Ponyville once and the second time I politely let you leave because reconciliation is preferable to resentment.”
“That makes no matter. The Great and Powerful Trixie is your match in all things that can be neutral and superior in many ways. But she still desires to be your passionate sexual partner because we are unicorns and magically powerful. There is nothing deeper and more important than that when choosing a lover and that is a fact.”
“That is most certainly not a fact!” Twilight levitated a dictionary to herself, slipped on her glasses and opened to the proper page. “A fact is an objective statement of observable reality, truthful information on a subject, the concrete and bedrock basis for investigation or, in Luna's time, an action.” She pulled off her glasses and set them aside on top of the dictionary. “The fact is, Trixie, that relationships need a lot more than merely being of the same race and having the same basic capabilities. That's almost a horrifying thing to say! As though we'd be forced together over trivial things. Ponies aren't required to stick with their own race, or even their own species.”
The seductive refection laughed softly, the sound soon multiplied as every experimental substance was made into a portal for Trixie's image. “Silly, silly Twilight Sparkle. It is a fact that you will be mine and I will be yours and that our encounters will be glorious. We met, and we have magic. That is all that is needed. You will not deny the Great and Powerful Trixie. She will have you.”
“You might be single but I have Pinkie Pie now, and I'm not going to give her up just because you say so. Nothing is going to change my mind.”
“You mind will change, Sparkle. You know it will. Your body lusts for what it lusts for. And that is me.” The Trixies all pressed in close to the surface of the mirrored liquids, tongues running over their lips.
“Ugh!” Twilight released a burst of magic, shattering all the containers at once. As the various liquids splattered on the ground all the images vanished, along with the pressing mana field. Twilight scanned each puddle, and the surrounding area. Nothing. Just like before.
She slowly made her way to a pillow and flopped down, rattled, her mind going a mile a minute. The first vision had been a fluke, she thought. Some strange fatigue or a quick magical hiccup of some kind. The latest had been far more meaningful, and the heavy magical presence... Trixie couldn't have actually mustered it on her own. She lacked focus and skill. It could not have been the Amulet, that had been locked in Canterlot like the Mirror. It was a great mystery. More pressing matters, however, soon gripped her attention. She was covered in stray chemicals, her work area was a mess, and she had a date. With a sigh she took up a broom and started sweeping up shards.
- - -
Gilda scowled at the book she was reading, furrowing her feathered brows as she dragged her eyes over words. She was not a naturally bookish type. She was no dummy, of course, and got decent marks in non-physical education. But she wasn't well suited to sitting around reading, unless there was a greater purpose to it. She always preferred action and activity, even just basic practice was preferable to idleness.
The book was quite important, however. The cover showed it to be a colorfully-illustrated Roa-produced foal's primer on language and culture. Gilda licked her beak and said, “Sah-steep-ay... sass-tee-pay... sahst-pay. Sas... sahs... ugh!” She closed the book in frustration and flopped back onto the nest.
“I heard frustration and negativity. The great and powerful Trixie is very sensitive to negative vibrations in the local fields. What's wrong?” Trixie sashayed out of one of the other rooms on the ground floor, carrying several buckets of pastel paint.
“It's this book. It's for foals but I can't do much with it. I blame school. We learned common Equestrian and Bald, but nothing else. I haven't got a clue how to pronounce these things.”
“It's mostly supplemental. Your phuri daj or daki daj is supposed to help guide you through. Now we just have to use what we have.” Trixie took up the book and cleared her throat. “Now... sastipe.”
“'Sastipe.'” Gilda repeated, one set of claws at her throat to keep her mindful of pronunciation.
“Lachho dives.” Trixie gave a small bow. “Good day.”
“Lach... lach..?”
“Lachho...”
“Lachho... dives.” Gilda smiled and chuckled a little. “Your family's gonna hate me, aren't they?”
“Of course not! You may be a gadji but you are also mine. They will give you a hearty t'aves baxtalo ando amaro familija. Roa can't afford to push anyone away. And I won't let them push you away. Believe me, you are becoming family no matter what.”
Gilda gave a happy shriek and puffed up her feathers. “I don't need to look that up. It sounds good. And I think it has the word 'family' in it.”
“It means, 'welcome to our family.' I haven't asked yet, but I think the tribe will like you. As amazing as I am, your unique presence will add something to the prestige of my clan and my family line. Aren't you proud?” Trixie popped her brows and gave a soft laugh, looking into the book again. “Shall we continue on?”
Gilda rolled her eyes, with a smile on her beak, and nodded. “Yea, sure.”
“You will discover that everypony is your uncle and everypony is your aunt. We don't have words for 'mister' or 'miss.' Mares are titled 'bibi', aunt, and stallions are 'kako', uncle. The word for a young female of any species is 'chej', for a young male of any species is 'chavo' and Twilight Sparkle is beautiful.” Trixie dropped the book from her magical grip and slapped a hoof over her mouth, looking completely shocked and horrified.
Gilda blinked slowly, tilting her head in her griffonic way, peering closely at Trixie. “Who's Twilight Sparkle?”
“She's... she's the unicorn that sent me out of Ponyville those two times. I tend to forget her name but this time I didn't... I don't know why I did that. I guess I've just been under a lot of stress lately.”
After a moment of consideration Gilda poked Trixie in the stomach. “Do you need to go have some kind of moment with her like they have on those cheesy daytime shows about moving on with relationships?”
“No! We never had one. We hated one another. Now I just tend to forget about her.”
“You were getting drunk over that...”
“You were getting drunk too!” Trixie caught herself before her anger manifested itself, and slowly took a deep breath. “There's been something going on. Magical trickery, something powerful that makes her show up in mirrors. Maybe the stress of that is getting to me. I might just need more sleep.”
“If you say so...” Gilda fidgeted about, but dropped further commentary with a sigh. “Want to get a late lunch in town?”
“We have the bits... and I think a date is just what we need.” In the back of her mind, slowly stewing just barely within conscious reach, was the name and image. Twilight Sparkle.
- - -
“Pinkie... did you ever consider going to university?” Twilight looked across the Sugarcube Corners kitchen at the pink pony. Both were lightly covered in flour, working on the dough for the next day's pastries.
“I went there once. I didn't like it.” Pinkie answered with her usual chipper energy, her hooves in whirling, blurred motion, pounding down several piles of dough, and working over one lump of what would eventually become a sheet of puff pastry.
“Really? You went to university? Was it a scholarship or did you come out of a junior college?” Twilight continued to knead her dough with magic while approaching Pinkie slowly.
“No, silly! I went to one of the universities to visit it and have a party! I was totally good at arranging parties there. But everypony looked so rushed. They were all busy and stressed and frustrated. They were like you, but they didn't know how to have fun! I don't think I'd fit in.”
“Oh... yes. I noticed a lot of the other students got very stressed. I guess the pressure of success gets to some folks. Maybe my natural talent made me immune to the stress.”
Pinkie turned her head practically all the way around, one brow quirked up high, her gaze piercing into Twilight's eyes. “Twilight..?”
Twilight blushed and turned her head back around, becoming intensely focused on her dough. “Yes. Well... never mind. You don't need to go to university to impress me. You do so many amazing things, and they always impress me so very, very much.”
Pinkie turned her head back around with a cheerful giggle, focusing on the puff pastry, making sure all the folds were precise and pushed flat, to really bring out the layers once baked. “I love you, Twilight.”
Twilight stopped her work at that moment, one hoof pushed deep into the dough blob, the other lifted high to prepare to squash down. She turned around and quickly rushed over on her hind legs to Pinkie, squeezing her body tight. The scholar put every once of her strength into that hug, to show her passion, knowing that her unicorn form could never hurt the solid earth pony. “I love you, Pinkie. I'll always love you...” The strange magical illusion came to her mind, and suddenly nothing she did seemed sufficient to express her love and desire for the wonderful baker in her grasp.
Pinkie giggled and wiggled her body lightly. “Hey, that's our song...” She turned around a bit and kissed at Twilight's face. “But we need to finish the dough. Wash your hooves.”
Twilight lingered in the hug for a bit longer but finally pulled away with a small smile. “Yes, Mrs. Pie...” She said, with a teasing tone.
“-Sparkle.” Pinkie added, some quirk of her voice actually managing to vocalize the hyphen.
“What?” Twilight snapped her head around as the water flowed over her hooves.
“Mrs. Pie-Sparkle. Mrs. Pie is my mother. And I want a way to show we're together.” Pinkie made the comment in an even tone, never ceasing her work.
Twilight blushed up a storm, suddenly extremely interested in washing every part of her hooves extremely well. “And I'll be Mrs. Sparkle-Pie. I want the same thing. I want the whole world to know we're together, Trixie.” She splashed the water around as she realized what she had said, crying out, “Pinkie! Pinkie! I want the world to know we're together, Pinkie!”
Despite her scatterbrained reputation, Pinkie was sharp as a tack and never missed anything Twilight said. “Trixie? You mean that meany-mean-mean-pants unicorn that came into town twice and kept trying to make you sad?”
There was no escaping it once Pinkie caught the scent of anything unusual. Twilight had to come clean. “Yes. That one. There was a magical incident the other day. Remember when I was almost late for our date? I was cleaning up after her image appeared in my imitation-mercury experiment vials. I shattered them to stop her from talking. The same thing happened in a mirror a couple of weeks ago. Powerful magic that leaves no trace is involved somehow. Did your trace detectors pick up anything?”
“Nope. I just thought you got busy with your experiments. You still sorta smelled like all your funny chemicals. Do you think she got the Amulet back?”
“I asked, out of pure curiosity. Princess Celestia assured me that powerful safety precautions had been taken. The Amulet had been destroyed, encased and put away, just like that evil mirror we found. It wasn't that. And I almost don't think Trixie is to blame. She didn't think much of me either time, and I only remember her because I read several newspapers and she sometimes shows up in theater reviews or advertisements for fairs.”
Pinkie began to put her dough away, some going into bowls, the puff pastry dough going onto a sheet which she placed in the walk-in refrigerator. “Maybe she paid somepony to do it.”
“It was still a lot of power, yet a power that didn't trip your ability to detect trace fluctuations. That's the really strange part. I don't think even Professor Sliver could do it, and he was Princess Celestia's Arch-Mage. This is just an uncomfortable mystery.” Twilight sighed and dropped down to all four hooves.
“Awww, come here...” Pinkie gathered twilight up into a big, flour-smearing hug that threatened to crush the unicorn like a twig. The hugs never did that, but there was always that feeling. “Don't worry about it. You still love me, right? With all your big brain and your squishy heart, right?”
Despite the name sinking deep into her mind, and all the uncertainty remaining below the surface, Twilight put on a smile and hugged Pinkie back with all her might. “I love you. With all my big brain and my squishy heart, I love you.”
- - -
“Ahem!” Gilda cleared her crop and gave a small bow towards the hastily-assembled pony-shaped stand before her, which had been dressed in some of Trixie's spare costumes. “Sastipe, bibi Lulamoon. Lachho dives. Sar san?” She hesitated a moment, opening one hand to look at her hastily scrawled notes. After waiting a moment for what was supposed to be the reply from the other side she added, “Mishto, palikerav tut.” She nodded in response to an unstated comment and smiled. “Achh devlesa.” She then sauntered on past the stand. “I think I've got this thing.”
She normally expected Trixie's input, but her fiancee had been busy all day. She was indulging her usual Roa creativity and love of color, painting a spare room. She had saved up a few bits for the paint and decided that the room would make a decent guest room, assuming they ever had guests. It was harmless enough, and kept her away from the big project, putting the floor back on the second story. That would be a messy hassle. But she would never stop her.
Gilda carefully began taking the clothes off of the stand and smiled to herself. She could be annoying. But they were a couple, and she was finding out that those romantic comedies she used to mock were right. Couples annoyed one another, they got to one another, they made mistakes and did ridiculous things. But she couldn't imagine being with anyone else. There was lots of talk of marriage, families, clan prestige, even children. It was like all the dreams she had never cared about when the Griffin traditions were promoting them had become irresistible because the Roa were offering them. All because she could be herself. An Egg Grabber. A Filly Fooler.
She gently hung up the clothes back into the cedar wardrobe from which they had been taken, a beautiful and severely underpriced little second-hoof piece they had found in a shop after a show. Not even three years ago should would have made fun of herself for owning a cedar wardrobe. For owning a wardrobe. Her priorities had really changed. She was acting like a griffin male, or like a mare. Getting the details in order, arranging the household, making sure every little thing was settled and right. She let out a little squawk of pride and puffed her feathers. She thought that the language practice had made her feel good, but the development of her life made her feel even better.
She swaggered down the hall to the room being made over, to practice her lesson with Trixie, who could correct her as needed. She caught sight of the walls immediately, a sliver at a time. The paint was practically slapped on in wild strokes, and the color was not consistent. Besides the ugly brown of the original walls there was a lovely pastel periwinkle that matched Trixie well, as well as a purple color that was somehow familiar. The purple was below the periwinkle, the top coat running down in thick streams.
She finally managed to look in and saw Trixie practically on her knees, horn lit and her magical field holding two brushes. One dipped violently into the purple paint and slapped onto the walls, lashing across the surface, creating letters with short strokes. T. W. I. L. I. G. H. T. The other brush was almost immediately there, covering up the letters with thick applications of the periwinkle paint. Though she wasn't making a sound her lips were pulled back and her eyes were shut tight. Her body was practically shuddering as she attacked the walls with the two different shades.
Gilda backed away from the door slowly, eyes wide, fur bristling in fear. She never bristled in fear. But there was a reason. Her mare, her wonderful mare, writing another mare's name on the wall then covering it up, a mare that she had a history with.
She had said that there was nothing left to resolve between the two of them. She had made promises before the matter came to light. And then some talk of strange magic and being compelled by fatigue to say the name. She just didn't know what to believe about it.
She almost went into the room, to ask about it, to grab the brushes or knock over the paint or something her old self would have done in a heartbeat. Her immature rage never had a chance to surface all the way. Her growing responsibility smothered it down and crushed it into submission. She would wait. Trixie still lived there, she would come to the nest, she would mention something. The issue would not go unresolved.
She slipped into the nest and snuggled herself down into the huge pile of pillows contained within. She closed her eyes and curled up slowly. Though her breathing grew light and she gave the appearance of sleep, she couldn't drift off. She had to know. She would wait all night if she had to.
The time that passed could have been a few minutes, it could have been an hour. She didn't know. She didn't care. All she cared about where the wavering, uncertain hoofsteps coming down the hall. She heard Trixie panting hard, muttering something to herself between each breathy pant. She fell into the nest without care, releasing a puff of air from the pillows and the smell of paint from her body. She continued to mutter, no louder than she had been and still impossible to hear.
Gilda turned around, regarding Trixie. She was still splattered in paint, in defiance of her usual fastidious manner. Her eyes were closed and her mouth moving in a regular pattern, like she was repeating a mantra. “Hey dude... is there... something wrong?” No response. “Did you, uh, have fun painting?” Nothing. “What were you painting in there.”
“I erased it. So it's fine.” Trixie's voice was flat, and she never turned to look at Gilda. “The paint will smother it. It's fine.”
Though there was much, much more to say, Gilda's new maturity told her to leave it alone. “Lachhi tjiri rat, mo chroi.” The fact that silence greeted her hurt more than the fact that Trixie did not curl up with her as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
- - -
Pinkie had not seen Twilight all day. That wasn't excessively unusual, they didn't live together after all. But they were deliriously in love and tended to see one another with great regularity. The passion of the meetings was also very strong. She wasn't a clingy Pinkie but she liked knowing Twilight was alright. She tended to wait for an invitation, or Pinkie Sense twitches telling her Twilight secretly or no-so-secretly needed her there.
She was doing her usual, hopping around Ponyville after her job at Sugarcube Corners let out. She hadn't seen Twilight in for lunch, and Spike hadn't been in to pick up an order. He was probably being overworked again. She had to smile at that, despite the fact that Spike was toiling. Despite his huffing and protesting he really enjoyed his job and savored the opportunities he had.
She had a sudden feeling. It wasn't a Pinkie Sense twitcha-twitcha, but it was something. She remembered what Twilight had said about the strange magic that had put the image of the mean mare Trixie in her experiments and in her mind. She was very bothered by it. Twilight being bothered was something Pinkie never, ever wanted to see. It only made sense to stop in and check on her.
She burst into Golden Oaks with a shower of confetti and a loud, “Surprise!” She looked around the main room of the library, seeing it devoid of any ponies, and populated only by Spike. The dragon was doing his best to gather up piles of scattered books.
“Oh, hey Pinkie Pie! Sorry Twilight hasn't been around. But she said she was working on an important project and wanted me to clean up after her late research. It was one of the more epic research sessions. I'm impressed. She hasn't worked this hard since her undergrad stuff.”
“Awww, that's no fun. I know she doesn't like me to bother her but she never made me Pinkie Promise not to bother her today. She'll like a break. Maybe I could take her some cake. Ooh! She loves cake. Or cupcakes! I can bring her some Pinkie Fuel! She loves it!”
“Yea, she also loves bismuth, calcium carbonate and baking soda...” Spike snarked, just soft enough to be unheard, he hoped.
“Oh Spike, that's just part of the fun of Pinkie Fuel.” Pinkie gave the little dragon a quick noogie then bounced her way to the ladder to the second floor.
“Not that she's wrong about the mix of a heavy metal and light minerals...” Spike stroked his chin thoughtfully then gave a shrug and went back to work.
Pinkie hopped herself up into Twilight's private space. She was allowed to do that. She had slept there more than a few times. She had... done more than a few things up there. Some of them involved frosting and chocolate chips and little gummy candies. And some of those things even involved desserts! “Twilight! I wanna take you out to dinner! Twilight?”
She wasn't in any of the usual, lower spaces of the room. At first she appeared to be absent from the room. Then Pinkie picked up a soft scratching, as of a quill on paper, as well as a soft, frantic muttering that was unmistakably Twilight. It was coming from the highest part of the room, Twilight's windowside bed, with the extra-heavy curtains to keep private time private.
Climbing up to it showed Twilight in bed, surrounded by a semicircle of books and a scattered collection of papers. She was hunched over, ignoring the open books around her, focused solely on the bottles of ink, quills and pieces of paper. She was writing something, over and over. She could tell that it was the same thing, the motions extremely exact. She was also muttering, like when she got overworked.
“Twilight? What's the matter? What are you studying today? Did Princess Celestia give you a new assignment?” She approached the strange nest, and picked up one of the pieces of paper. It was covered in ink spots from poorly-shaken quills, and scribbles that were hardly what she expected out of a careful writer like Twilight. It was hard to see what she was even trying to write as every one had been scratched out.
“Trixie... Trixie... Trixie...” Her horn glowed weakly, but the quill moved with its usual speed. She sloppily scribbled out the name 'Trixie' before quickly and almost angrily scratching it out. The process repeated without even the slightest pause. “Trixie...”
“T-twilight? What's the matter?” Pinkie came up and shook the fixated unicorn firmly.
The glow remained on her horn, though it slowly faded out as the quill dropped from her magical grip and fell to the bed. “Trixie... Trix... Pinkie? Dinner? I... I'm not very hungry right now...”
Pinkie gingerly held up the paper and showed it to Twilight. “What is this?”
“I scratched it out. So it's nothing. Nothing at all. Don't worry. I'm... I'm tired Pinkie. Let me get some sleep.”
“I can get you some Pinkie Fuel and...”
“Sleep.” The statement was curt and firm, her eyes hard. “Just sleep.” Twilight promptly flopped over onto her side and just drifted off.
“O-okay...” Pinkie slowly slid off the bed and walked away, looking back frequently. That wasn't Twilight. That wasn't Twilight at all. She looked like her, even acted like her in her more manic modes. But that... whatever it was, it was not her.
- - -
Gilda stood over the stove, looking with some trepidation at the steaming pots. Two of them were normal, large, mismatched stockpots, and one was a refurbished but well-put-together pressure cooker. She lifted the lid on one and inhaled the steam. She smiled and let out a soft sigh, pleased by the warm mixture of pine scents.
She dipped a large wooden spoon into the pot and slowly stirred the contents. She was a griffin, a mighty hunter and top of the food chain. Yet these days she ate a lot of tofu steaks and enjoyed it, and now... she was willingly cooking up a very vegetarian meal of pine cones.
It was not very common for folks to eat pine cones, and yet Trixie not only did it but she looked upon it as nostalgic and comforting. As she stirred she remembered hearing about it...
“Really? You really do this?” Gilda looked incredulously at the back of Trixie's head as they strolled through the pine forest around Schwarzwald with large wicker baskets on their backs.
“Do not sound so disbelieving. It is a good, frugal and well-remembered family tradition.” Trixie lit her horn every so often and pulled down branches laden with unopened pine cones. She carefully examined them, turning them and prodding at them, pulling some off and tossing them into either her or Gilda's baskets.
“Okay... I know that you ponies are vegetarians, but I never heard of pine cones as a meal before. Then again, I used to eat at fancy dinner parties, and then cheap dives that had whatever was on the lawn. Is this a Roani thing?”
“I suppose you could say that. It was my most august phuri daj that had the idea. She saw us wander by pine trees and noted nopony ever complained if pine cones were taken away. Many pines were not even privately owned. They were plentiful, easily obtainable, and with seeds in them quite nutritious. Proper boiling softened them for eating and could even be reduced to create a delicious pine broth or gravy to go over them.” Trixie picked a few more and threw them in her basket. “After all this time the ponies in the clan have become connoisseurs of pine cones, knowing good mixtures and recipes to make them palatable, even to foreign tongues.”
“You mean me, right? You're going to get me, a griffin, to eat pine cones and like it? Don't you think you're already stretching with the reduced fish and tofu-everything-else?”
“It will not kill you to sample my family's cooking. After all, I assume you have expectations of becoming a very integral part of it someday, do you not?”
“Well yea, that matters a lot to me. But will I really be judged on my ability to cook and eat pine cones?”
“Of course! Now, please continue to be useful. Help me select succulent cones. No damage, no rot and no insect activity. It is simplicity itself.” With that Trixie turned all her focus over to pulling down and examining the branches heavy with cones.
Gilda considered just not doing anything, but the thought, the promise, of becoming part of a family that wanted her, caused her to reach up and pull down a branch full of cones. She poked at them with a talon, pulling off a few likely candidates and throwing them into her basket. “Are these, like, your favorite kind? Do you even have a favorite kind? I can't imagine there's much difference...”
“You will learn, sooner or later, there is a great difference. Some are better than others, often just because of seed size. These are acceptable though very plain. If given the chance I would much prefer sugar pine cones. As you may be able to guess, they are quite sweet, plus the cones themselves are extremely large and the seeds are quite delectable roasted or boiled. But sugar pines do not grow here, they are in the mountains of the coast. But I will have some again. Some day.” With a shake of her head Trixie went back to gathering cones.
That night, Trixie had demonstrated the methods for cooking cones. As it took many for a decent meal, at least two stockpots were needed, filled with fresh water. After being brought to boil the cones were added and cooked covered until tender and open. If allowed to sit and boil off some it made a broth. More boiling resulted in a thin but passable pine gravy. She also related that a pressure cooker could achieve proper softness in decent time at the expense of broth production.
They sat down to the meal, with some trepidation from Gilda. She barely had the nerve to bite off the tip of a cone. But after some chewing, she found it more than passable. Her first mouthful of seeds provided even more reason to keep eating. Eventually, she and Trixie had polished off what they had cooked.
“They do not keep well, not if you want good flavor. They must be eaten fresh from the tree. And since they open eventually they are very much a seasonal dish. But while they are here, we may eat like Princesses for free.”
Gilda patted her belly and let out a light belch, having just enough decency to blush a little. “Oh yea. I could get used to this. Eating like a High Queen, and all it cost was a walk in the woods.”
She had decided to surprise Trixie with her cooking prowess, as a kind of augmentation to her growing command of the Roani language. Nothing was more appropriate than the food she said would impress her family.
But more than that, she needed something to bring her sweet mare back from whatever strange state she was in. Things almost normalized after the painting incident, but there was always some distance in Trixie's look, a strange sense of distraction and lack of focus. It was only fortunate they did not have shows lined up, they would have been disastrous.
“Do I smell... pine cones boiling?” Trixie shuffled her way into the kitchen, sniffing disbelievingly at the air. “Fresh pine cones! You're cooking pine cones!”
“Surprise?” Gilda smiled a little sheepishly and indicated the pressure cooker. “And I even have a surprise in here. Go on and have a seat, I think they're ready.”
“Very well. The great and powerful Trixie needs a filling meal, and pine cones are acceptable.” Though she attempted to speak with her usual easy pseudo-arrogance, there was a rehearsed quality to it, as though the mare was trying hard to sound like herself.
Gilda carefully vented the pressure from the cooker and opened the lid up, unleashing a cloud of steam and a sweet scent through the air. She reached in with the spoon and extracted a foot-long, narrow cone, its scales open and showing numerous seeds. She placed it reverently on a plate and set it before Trixie. “I asked a few folks, and they actually found this for me. A sugar pine cone, right from the coastal mountains.”
Trixie looked on the cone with some amount of awe. Her eyes grew bright and moist, smile threatening to turn down. “You... you... found me a sugar pine cone... you really did...” She cracked, shoulders slumping, head falling as the tears fell from her eyes.
“Hey, hey... dude...” Gilda grabbed Trixie up in a warm hug, rubbing her beak over the unicorn's horn. “It's not much. But I thought... after all the weirdness... you deserved it.”
“I wish I understood what was happening. There are so many things wrong and they scare me. But you are here. You will keep me safe. I know. You really love me. And you said it with a sugar pine.” Using her magic, Trixie lifted the cone and took a big bite out of it, sobbing anew as she spoke with her mouth full. “It's delicious. So delicious.”
The rest of dinner proceeded in that fashion, a wonderful experience for both. Trixie seemed far more like herself, recovered from the strange mental effect that had gripped her. Gilda was looser and more casual, relieved that her mare was no longer suffering. She had never felt more competent. A good dinner, a romantic gesture, and talk about being a strong protector. Life was finally back on track.
That night though, after a tender lovemaking and a cuddling settling into the nest, Trixie awoke with a start. There was almost a stabbing in her brain, magical pressure almost compressing her head as the strange sensation jabbed into her consciousness. She could see, behind her own eyelids and in every place she looked, the seductive image of the virtual stranger, Twilight Sparkle. She was being called. It was not a request. It was not a demand. It was destiny. Fate.
“Des-ti-ny...” She spoke against her own will, though it was her will that moved her. She rose up from the nest, disturbing Gilda into wakefulness.
“Dude? What's going on? Where are you going?”
When Trixie turned back to respond there was a hollowness in her eyes. They were rheumy and washed out, and almost did not seem to truly see anything. “I am going to my destiny. I am going to see Twilight Sparkle. My fate.” With that statement delivered in an airy voice she forcefully opened the front door with her magic and galloped out into the night.
- - -
Pinkie Pie wiped her brow and looked upon her creation. It was a smaller version of the MMMM, suitable for sharing between two ponies. It was not perfect, of course. She did not have Carrot and Cup's skills with baked goods quite yet. She was no artist on her own. But it was not to be set before Celestia's critical eye, it was for her marefriend.
The Mini-MMMM was set in a place of honor on a table laden down with so many sweet treats it nearly groaned under the weight of it all. She had rented out the party space with her own bits, and equipped it properly with a stereo system, a dance floor, and blown-up photos of herself and Twilight in their most romantic poses.
Pinkie nervously paced the floor as she checked the clock again. Twilight would be there soon, after finishing some library things. She had been obsessively fixated on her duties lately, performing everything with a preternatural focus and drive. She was consumed by it all, yet it seemed necessary. In times when she was not fixed on a task she was distracted and distant. Even after the obsessive writing things were not back to normal. And even for an abnormal soul like Pinkie that wasn't right. She wanted things to be abnormal on her terms, the fun terms.
A few minutes later, Twilight made her way sedately into the room. Her mood, and indeed her features, were very subdued. She was half there at best, head slightly turned away. “I'm here, Pinkie. What was it you needed..?”
Pinkie suddenly slammed the doors shut and threw out piles of confetti, screaming, “Surprise! A party! Just for you!”
“Pinkie? What..?”
“You've been so weird lately. And I know weird! So I wanted to throw you a party to try and make you the right kind of weird! I made all your favorite treats, I got all your favorite music, and, well, I'm here.” Pinkie smiled her biggest, brightest smile, showing enough teeth for three sets of mouths.
“Pinkie...” A little of the distraction faded out of Twilight's eyes and she focused, for the first time in a while. She looked over the sweet panorama, the ready sound system, the dance floor and Pinkie. “I... I don't even... is this really alright with the Cakes? Won't the noise bother Pound and Pumpkin? It's a little late.”
“Don't worry! This party room is really, really soundproofed, like the bathroom and the bedroom. We can get our jam on and nopony will notice.” Pinkie zipped quickly to the sound system, fiddled with some of the dials and levels then mashed play. A wild stream of horns and piano erupted from the speakers in a swinging beat. “Let's dance, hotsy-trotsy mare!”
Twilight had been sampling the hot-sauce-free cupcakes, but ceased her foraging when the swinging tune came up. She turned around, cheeks full of cupcake, frosting smeared all over her face and a giant smile on her lips. After wiping her mouth with a hoof, and succeeding only in smearing the frosting around, she practically leaped onto the dance floor, once more performing her flailing, spastic dork dance. “You really do have my favorite music!” She said, with a small spray of cupcake crumbs.
“Yup yup yup yup!” Pinkie was upon the dance floor right beside Twilight, suddenly wearing her spandex warmup suit and leg warmers, with headband, doing a dance that was also inappropriate for the music, but which was at least a coherent, put-together dance with rhythm and style.
“And none of the cupcakes have hot sauce on them!” Twilight suddenly stopped, mid-flail, sweat springing up on her forehead and face. “N-not that there's anything wrong with hot sauce on cupcakes! I love them! They're delicious! And they really get me moving!”
Pinkie moved in to noogie Twilight, giggling cutely. “Silly filly! I know that Pinkie Fuel makes you all rumbly in the belly! I know you have to drink all that stuff and burp a lot.”
“Real love is the moments we are imperfect...” Twilight said softly, repeating the observation she had recorded in her notes on love. She blushed a bit more deeply, really looking like herself. “This is amazing, my little cookbook. This party is making me feel like myself.”
“Why would it do that? Aren't you always you?”
“Not lately... not with all the strange magic that has been haunting me. I was... feeling like somepony wanted me to act and think a certain way. But now, well, now I feel right. This feels right. This is what is supposed to be.”
Pinkie pressed a hoof softly against Twilight's chest, right over her rapidly-beating heart. “You'll always be you. In here. No matter what happens on the outside, you're always you deep inside. That can never change.”
“It was inside my head... but it wasn't me. What I am, deep in here.” Twilight placed one hoof over Pinkie's, giving her a warm, loving look. She then cast a spell that secured the door with numerous magical locks. Her look turned sultry, with a giant blush accompanying it. “Let's test that soundproofing...”
Later on, when the Mini-MMMM had been mostly eaten, and slightly smeared over various places, and the rest of the treats tried or tossed aside, Pinkie and Twilight lay together in a heap. Both were quite clean, thanks to magic, and rather well put-together, save for Pinkie's leg warmers being on Twilight's horn. They looked quite content together.
Twilight's eyes snapped open, a sickly magical light shining in them while her face took on a pained expression. A spike of purely malevolent magic was driving itself through every part of her brain, her synapses set alight by whatever strange force was acting on her. She tried to shake off the effect, all her power pouring into her horn to push off the assault on her mind. “Trixie... my fate...”
“Twilight?” Pinkie opened an eye and looked up at her risen marefriend. The look on her face sent her to her hooves in an instant. “Twilight?! What's the matter?! What's going on?!”
The light faded from her eyes, leaving them watery and dull. She cast a spell on the wall, creating a door leading out into Ponyville. “I must... I have to... my fate. Destiny... Trixie...” She ran out into the night, followed closely by Pinkie.
- - -
Trixie and Twilight tore through the night, rushing headlong into the darkness, blind and heedless of any obstacle, going over, around or even through as appropriate. They were not bound for any particular point between Schwarzwald and Ponyville, but for some different place, at a crossroad. Trixie traveled farther than Twilight, and ran all the harder. She arrived lathered and gasping, yet did not stop until she managed to catch sight of Twilight on the other side of the crossroad. “Twilight!”
“Trixie!” Twilight did not look very pleased. She was just a step above neutral, and had been pacing with a nervous energy, even if there was just a hollow look to her.
“Wait!” Pinkie popped up in front of Twilight, grabbing onto her and holding her tight. “T-twilight, you can't do this. You said you loved me... I was your little cookbook. You remember, Twilight? Snuggling in bed, spreading frosting all over each other, bathing together... please remember...”
“Wait! Wait! Ummm... uh... k- kamaù tut! Th-that's worth stopping, right?”Gilda swooped down and crashed into Trixie, pushing her back with all her strength. “Stop! I thought you were getting better! You weren't afraid anymore!”
“My fate...” Twilight, pulled and yanked at Pinkie's tight grip, struggling against the might of the earth pony. She almost seemed to have some force outside of herself that made her able to fight through the restriction, approaching Trixie and the crossroad meeting.
“Destiny...” Trixie, as well, used some strange power to scrape forward little by little, in spite of the powerful griffin latched onto her body.
“No... you promised me...” Gilda tried to hold back her tears, gritting her beak. “You promised me a family... your clan would love and accept me. I learned your language, cooked you pine cones... I did everything... I love you...” Choked sobs seethed through her teeth as she felt her grip getting weaker. Through the thickness of her throat and the tightness in her beak, she managed to whisper out, “She can kill with a smile/ She can wound with her eyes...”
Trixie did not respond, but Pinkie seemed to notice from across the distance between them. “It is destined, written in the stars...” Trixie continued to look straight ahead, in a vacant stare that spoke of no real love in her love.
“She can ruin your faith with her casual lies.” Gilda's voice was growing softer, her limbs feeling weaker. She was fighting against more than Trixie's strength, far more. She was not only pulling against a force stronger than her, some external magic was sapping the strength out of her body directly. “And she only reveals what she wants you to see...” She was losing, not something that she was used to. But she still held on. She was too invested, too much in love with Trixie to let some magical force beat her. Even though her voice and strength were waning, she gave it one more go. “She hides like a chick/ But she's always a ma-are to me...”
Trixie continued to scrape her hooves against the dirt road, making more and more progress as she pulled on. After the last, quiet, line, however, she gave just one last scrape and stopped, the watery look in her eyes clearing some. “She can... lead you... to love...” She sang with a shaky, forced voice, struggling against her own body and shaking her head hard as a pained look crossed her face. “She can take you... or leave you./ She can ask for the truth/ But... she'll never believe you./ She'll take what you give her as long as it's free...” Her teeth ground hard, the pained expression growing with each word. Even so she used every bit of strength to force herself to turn away from Twilight and towards Gilda. “She steals like a thief/ But she's always a he-en to me...” Then she threw her head downward, hooves going to it and grabbing it as a scream tore from her throat.
“Hey! C-come on, it's okay it's... what is that?” Gilda cradled Trixie's shuddering body and looked around for the source of a strange, high-pitched whine she could suddenly hear. It was starting to get piercing, and she was certainly getting a headache. Besides that she was having rather disjointed and fuzzy memories of Rainbow Dash for some strange reason. She shook it off and started to rub Trixie's head. “It's okay, dude. I'm here...”
Though Trixie had halted, Twilight had not. She was still fighting to move against Pinkie, but it looked like Pinkie was suffering the same weakness. On seeing the success Gilda had, she screamed out at the top of her lungs, “And I-I with always love you and I will always love yooooooou!”
Twilight moved on, scooting forward a little at a time. She looked very confused. “My fate? My destiny? But it's... my fate...” She stopped trying as hard to go forward, then lit her horn, a wave of energy passing through it. “My fate!”
Pinkie was stunned by her failure. Her Twilight. Her sweet, wonderful Twilight. Was there something different about them? Singing had worked for the meany-mean-mean-pants griffin to get another meany-mean-mean-pants to stop acting like Twilight was acting. Couldn't she..?
The idea came unbidden, like most of them did. Of course. She leaped up into Twilight's path, wearing a gigantic fluffy blonde wig and a halter on her belly stuffed with two huge pillows. “Workin' nine to five/ What a way to make a livin'!/ Barely gettin' by/ It's all takin/ And no givin!”
Twilight actually seemed to see her there at last, her distracted gaze locking onto Pinkie's absurdity. A blink cleared the wateriness from her eyes, her mouth opening slightly and horn powering down. “Pinkie... my little cookbook... Ah!” She fell to the ground, clutching at her head.
Pinkie drew Twilight into a tight, warm embrace, nuzzling her neck lightly, trying to ignore the headache-inducing whine she was hearing, which also seemed to somehow be making her think of Mr. Cake. Sure, he was an awesome boss and would probably have wisdom for the situation but it was hardly the time. She laid little kisses on Twilight's neck and stroked down her neck. “It'll be okie-dokie-lokie, Twilight. You trust me, right?”
“I trust you, Pinkie...” Twilight whined, leaning up and pursing her lips, planting a trembling kiss on Pinkie's lips. As soon as she made contact a warmth began to move through her that eased her aches and restored her strength and autonomy.
Gilda noted what was happening on the other side of the crossroad, her stroking moving up to Trixie's cheeks. “Fight it. Whatever it is, fight it! If the Ponyville dweebs can do it, we can, right?”
“Y-yes, of course. We can. Together.” Trixie leaned in for a kiss, her body relaxing, her shuddering slowing to a halt. Her head finally felt like it was out of the magical vise and the stabbing pain ceased.
Both couples kissed on, affection feeding one another strength and security. All the fatigue, the tension, the fear melted away, replaced with a sensation of peace and security. In some way it was a sense of normalcy, especially for Trixie and Twilight. Increasingly, both mares felt like themselves, more so than they had in a long while. Their minds were fully their own, every alien, forced trace scrubbed out.
The kisses parted at exactly the same time, and four sets of eyes noted that their owners were wrapped in a glowing shell of energy like a smaller version of Cadence and Shining Armor's love shield. The whirling magic pulled in and then sprang out, first in a rippling wave, then pulling into a sinuous line of light which snaked out and struck a point behind a few boulders near the crossroads. As the last of the energy surged in there came a scream of agony, the sound of a modest explosion and a flash of magical energy.
Though the four sat there for a moment, looking thoroughly nonplussed, the all had the notion to get up and run for that spot, to see what had transpired. On arrival they found a truly horrible scene. There was a unicorn stallion, a rather nondescript all-dun figure with a wild mane. His head and the surrounding rocks were covered in blood, the flesh of his head hanging from his skull, which appeared cracked. Beside him was a bloody golden circlet, which looked to be Discord eating his own tail. Near that was a pile of bloodstained papers. Even though he was critically injured, he was not only conscious, but spoke when the quartet found him. “Why didn't you come together?”
“Oh my gosh! Sir! What... what happened? I'll get some medical attention for you right away!” Twilight prepared to set off when the unicorn pointed at her and glared with a hateful energy.
“It was fate. I saw in Ponyville. Unicorns. Magically inclined. That is fate. Destiny.” The injured stallion struggled to his hooves, splattering blood over the scene. “It was meant to be. It was always meant...”
“If you weren't already injured I'd give you some of this...” Gilda balled a fist and shoot it threateningly at the stallion. “You've got your nerve hurting my marefriend like that. What was it that you did?”
“Yes it seems impossible you could manifest the power we saw. Though seeing that artifact...” Twilight looked aside at the circlet, practically feeling the malevolence emerging from it.
“The Serpent Crown. The promise of propriety.” The unicorn reached down and pulled the bloody golden circle to his face. “It promises to make the world right. If things do not go as planned it will change the minds of those who refuse to play their parts.”
“The great and powerful Trixie is not a puppet or actress in some cut-rate production here for your amusement! She is her own pony and free to-”
“No!” The stallion cut her off with a shout that sent him to the ground, and left him groaning in agony for a moment. “Meant to... meant to be... unicorns. Magic. Fought. That means you are secretly sex perverts. Meant to be one as lovers. But you kept... doing it... wrong...”
“I don't see how you could make that kind of assessment. We never liked one another. Civility or the veneer thereof was the best we could manage. Now please let me bring paramedics to you.” Twilight again tried to set off, but stopped herself when she saw the bleeding begin anew. It was already too late.
“Meant to be... saw it all... saw you part... wanted to make it... real...” The stallion struggled to rise and failed, limbs writhing in the bloody dirt. “The Serpent Crown showed me. Promised me. Perfection. It could have taken these interlopers away. They were to be shown their new roles.”
“I saw Mr. Cake. He's married. And I like Mrs. Cake, she's a nice lady. It would be very wrong to make them sad. I like to make ponies smile.” Pinkie shook her head down at the delusional stallion.
“That thing with Dash... that's long over. It could never come back even if I wanted it to. And I don't.” Gilda grabbed Trixie up in a hug and looked on the dying unicorn, almost with pity.
“I don't know where your ideas came from... but you were wrong to try and break us up. We have real love, and you can't force that away. You only hurt ponies when you do it.” Twilight nuzzled against Pinkie, tears in her eyes.
“Meant to be... I... saw... destiny...” The limbs slowly stopped moving, and the crazed eyes finally closed, the insane fire behind them fading well before. The four females were left with a corpse.
“I need to contact the Princesses. That Serpent Crown is obviously a dangerous Discordian artifact. It needs to be destroyed like the Mirror or the Amulet.” After they all moved away to the other side of the rocks, Twilight gingerly lifted up the Crown with her magic and futilely wiped it on the ground, attempting to get the blood off.
“What a strange, deluded fool. To think that I, the great and powerful Trixie, would submit to magical power and fall in love with a unicorn that drove me out of a town.”
“Uhhh, you kinda did, dude. I had to bring you out of it. Like a total heroine.” Gilda puffed her feathers proudly and put a possessive arm around Trixie.
“It was a joint effort, gadji! I provided the inspiration that made your efforts possible.” Trixie snuggled up into Gilda's embrace and softened her look some.
“So... this is... umm... I thought we agreed this was never going to happen again...” Twilight coughed into a hoof, one leg swung over Pinkie's shoulder. For her part the pink earth pony was subtly glaring at the griffiness across from her.
“Magical circumstances sometimes break agreements. This was not my choice at all. Truthfully the closest I have ever been to Ponyville has been the County Fair. Mares have to work to eat, after all.”
Gilda wasn't paying attention. She was glaring back at Pinkie. She softened her look just slightly and gave a civil nod. “Dweeb.”
“Meany-mean-mean-pants.” Pinkie returned the nod with equal civility in tone.
“Pinkie...” Twilight gave Pinkie and scolding look.
“Prove your civility. I am judged by your actions now.” Trixie struck a pose in Gilda's grip then poked her in the side.
“Fine...” Gilda rolled her eyes and held out a talon. “Gilda sen Electra O'Bald.” She looked down at the unicorn she was holding and added, “-Lulamoon. Someday.”
Pinkie eagerly grabbed the talon in both hooves, shaking it quite forcefully. “Pinkamina Diane Pie!” She took a quick glance at Twilight and pulled back in to snuggle the unicorn. “-Sparkle. It's going to happen sometime. I just need to get my family used to the idea. You know how Cannonites are.”
“What the screech is a Cannonite?” Gilda scratched at her neck feathers and tilted her head in her raptorish way.
Before Pinkie could answer Trixie spoke up. “They are a... curious order of earth ponies who live lives of simple austerity and forgo most magical or technomagical things. I worked for a time on a Cannonite rock farm, which is hardly easy for a Roa to do.”
“You're Roani? Suddenly so many things make sense. The iconography, the caravan, the polished performance.” Twilight nodded her head slowly, then stroked over Pinkie's mane. “Cannonites are leery about Filly Fooler relationships, in contrast with the rest of the nation.”
“Roa require those that marry into their clans be knowledgeable about their traditions and language, what they call Roanipen. And while it may be a difficult process to teach a griffin such...” Gilda snorted at Trixie's assertion and narrowed her eyes angrily. “There is nothing more satisfying than to hear her speaking Roani, and to know that she is trying hard because she wishes to become one heart, one blood, with me. And my clan.”
Gilda released a happy shriek and posed proudly. “Yea, it's pretty awesome.” She looked between Trixie and Pinkie and gave a soft laugh, before shooting a thumbs-up to Twilight. “Good luck with that Cannonite thing. For now, I need to take my mare back to the nest.”
Twilight nodded quickly. “Of course, of course. We need to get back to Ponyville to contact Canterlot, get this crown taken care off and the... unicorn... tended to.” She paused for a moment and coughed into her hoof. “We might not be friends, but at least we're not still enemies. If you come by Ponyville... we will smile on the street at you.”
“And we will smile in return.” Trixie slowly climbed up across Gilda's back, laying out languidly.
“Oh hey...” Gilda lifted her wings and looked back at Twilight and Pinkie. “Tell Dash... I'm sorry for everything. And, uh, you know, sorry to you too, dwee- uh, Pinkie.”
“Bye meany-mean-mean-pants! I mean, Gilda! Good luck with all that Roani stuff! It's totally worth it doing it right.” Pinkie threw herself against Twilight and clung on tight.
With a final smile from all parties Gilda took to wing and Twilight activated a teleport spell, leaving with Pinkie and the Crown.