• Published 27th Feb 2012
  • 20,196 Views, 388 Comments

Boast Busted - RainbowDoubleDash



A sort of reverse of Boast Busters. Read the long description

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2. Wherein Raindrops Keeps a Promise

Something clicked in Trixie’s mind. “Oh,” she realized. “Oh! I remember now. You’re the mare that graduated from Princess Luna’s school of magic a year early, and with a perfect grade point average.”

Twilight Sparkle beamed at the recognition. “Yes,” she confirmed. “Princess Luna herself handed me my diploma.”

Trixie considered, vaguely remembering attending that event alongside her mentor. “And since then you’ve just been wandering around Equestria looking for festivals to ruin?” she surmised.

The lavender unicorn seemed taken aback. “What?” she asked.

Trixie moved closer to Twilight. “You interrupted my show!” she exclaimed.

“Oh, that…” Twilight said, laughing nervously and looking a little mollified, before realizing what she was doing, shaking her head, and looking back to Trixie. “Well, that was only because I couldn’t take it anymore! I came here all the way from Manehattan, dropped everything I was researching in the library there, just to see you - and you were hardly doing any magic at all out there!"

“Hey!” Dinky Doo objected, hopping off of her mother’s back and galloping past Trixie and right up to Twilight, who backed up a few paces at the charge and the look of determination in Dinky's face. “Trixie’s the best magician in all of Equestria!”

Twilight blinked a few times as she stared down at the filly. Her expression changed to one of slight condescension. “Now, look, my little pony,” she said in a voice that matched her expression, leaning down to Dinky. “You’re too young to really know this, but what Trixie was doing was not magic.”

“Yes it was!” Dinky objected strongly. “Trixie says that magic is more than just spells and stuff! It’s all about style and presentation and I’m not too young to know ‘cause momma says I’m really smart for my age and – ”

“Thank-you, Dinky,” Trixie said, using a hoof to gently push the filly away from the older unicorn. “But I think Twilight and I need to have a discussion in private.”

Dinky looked dejected. “But I thought I was your assistant…”

“You are,” Trixie promised, “but I don’t know how this discussion is going to play out, and it might involve some mean words that even a filly as smart as you shouldn’t be hearing, and frankly I’m scared of what your mother might do to me if you did hear them.”

Ditzy Doo chuckled somewhat at that as she came forward, scooping up her daughter and placing her firmly on her back again. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked. Somehow, her eyes had managed to wander so that one was on Trixie, while the other was focused on Twilight. The lavender unicorn didn’t seem bothered at all by Ditzy’s eyes, however, which at least made Trixie's estimation of her go up, however slightly.

“I’ll be fine,” Trixie promised, before looking back to Twilight. Ditzy nodded, and headed through the stage’s curtains, a somewhat morose-looking Dinky Doo riding her – though the filly spared enough time to turn around and stick her tongue out at Twilight.

Twilight stared impassively at the display. “Never was good with foals…” she observed absentmindedly.

“Maybe if you didn’t talk down to them like you just did,” Trixie suggested, as she replaced her hat. “Especially Dinky Doo. She is very smart for her age.”

Twilight turned back to Trixie. “Really?” she asked, curiosity piqued. “What spells can she cast?”

Trixie blinked at the question, not understanding how Twilight could have made the leap from smart for her age to spellcasting prodigy. Raw intelligence and spellcasting ability were only peripherally connected, and unicorns of Dinky’s age were usually only just beginning to master basic telekinesis. Dinky was about as far along as any other unicorn filly in that regard. “Several,” Trixie decided to lie, “but that’s not what really matters right now. Why’d you interrupt my show?”

Twilight blinked a few times. “Like I said,” she explained, “you’re the Element of Magic! You were taught by Luna herself! But the spells I saw out there could have been done by…by a filly her age!” She pointed in the direction Dinky and Ditzy had left.

Trixie huffed. “Give my ‘Portal to the Fifth Dimension’ glamor a little more credit…”

“Well, okay, that was impressive,” Twilight admitted, scuffing a hoof on the floor. “But it’s not like illusions are real magic – ”

“What?” Trixie demanded.

“Well, they aren’t! They’re illusions! They’re fake by definition!”

Trixie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Well, what were you expecting?” Trixie demanded.

“I don’t know!” Twilight exclaimed. “Something…well, something more!” She took a step forward. “Does Princess Luna know you’re wasting her education like this?”

Trixie jabbed a hoof forward. “For your information, it was Princess Luna who suggested I put on my first magic show, back during the Longest Night celebration!” she exclaimed. “She’s encouraged it! She said it was a good use of my talents!”

Actually, what Princess Luna had said was that it was an excellent way for Trixie to vent her natural egotistical streak and desire for attention in such a way that wouldn’t drive other ponies away from her, as she had at the time managed to alienate just about everypony in Canterlot still willing to give her a chance. Princess Luna had a way with words, and that way was to make them as blunt and cutting as possible in order to drive points home. Still, this upstart unicorn didn’t need to know that.

Twilight stared in incomprehension. “The Princess wanted you to become a showmare?” she demanded.

“She wants me to be happy,” Trixie informed Twilight. That, at least, was the complete, unvarnished truth.

Twilight blinked a few times. “Okay…” she said, apparently deciding to leave that point alone. “But why were you doing so little actual magic?”

“I was doing tons of magic,” Trixie objected.

“You were using sleight-of-hoof. Smoke and mirrors. Misdirection. There wasn’t a lot of real magic.”

Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “No, there weren’t a lot of spells,” she clarified. “Magic is more than just spells.”

“But they’re the only part that matters!” Twilight objected, looking shocked that Trixie could even imply otherwise.

“No they’re not!” Trixie exclaimed with a stomp of her hoof. “Spells are just the most obvious…and, really, the least interesting.”

Twilight recoiled as though Trixie had physically bucked her in the jaw while making that point. “What?” she demanded. “You’re the Element of Magic! How can you even say that?”

“I think you answered your own question there,” Trixie observed. “I’m the Element of Magic. I know what I’m talking about.”

Twilight glared at Trixie. “You’re wrong.”

“Hey, who between the two of us was taught magic by Princess Luna herself?” Trixie gave Twilight a sly look. “Jealous, maybe?”

Twilight was fuming at the implication. Trixie felt a little bad about the last comment – it was Trixie’s habit of name-dropping and bringing up her status with Luna that had driven away most of the ponies of Canterlot, or at least a mixture of that and spells gone awry causing problems. Then again, Trixie had no interest in trying to make friends with this stuck-up mare, and she doubted Twilight had come backstage looking for a renewed sense of camaraderie, either.

“Look,” Trixie said, straightening her cape and hat. “This is my first Eventime in Ponyville and I really just want to enjoy it, so if you’ll excuse me…” The mare pushed her way past Twilight, and out into the night, trying to focus on the festival in front of her and not the unicorn she was leaving behind. The encounter with Twilight Sparkle had left a bad taste in Trixie’s mouth – which, at the very least, made her first destination an easy choice.

---

“The short one is giving you the evil eye again, C,” Raindrops observed without removing the straw from her mouth. She was glancing over her shoulder, at the Apple family’s stand, which was being mobbed by customers – as usual. Nevertheless, the smallest member of the Apple family seemed to find plenty of time, in between helping her older sister with sales, to shoot dirty looks at Carrot Top’s own. She was scolded for it a few times by her sister, but it was never long before the filly started up again.

“Foals are foals,” Carrot Top responded simply as she topped off a carton of carrot juice and exchanged it for a few silver bits with a customer, thanking him for his purchase. His leaving left her alone with Raindrops for the moment. “All that really matters is Applejack’s realized that there’s a difference between small business and competition.”

Raindrops considered that as she used her tongue to switch the straw from one side of her mouth to the other. “Never got that,” Raindrops said, as she took a carrot from Carrot Top’s stand, tossing a few bits into the earth pony’s coffers before her friend could start up a rant about her not needing to pay like she had over the juice. “Carrots and apples. Not something you’d think could compete with each other…”

Carrot Top shrugged. “There’s some competition,” she explained. “Apple juice or carrot juice? Carrot cake or apple pie? Apple jam or carrot marmalade?”

“Ugh. Apple jam,” Raindrops said, even as she made a point of biting into the carrot she’d purchased. “Sorry, C, but apple jam. Carrots should not be made into marmalade.”

Carrot Top looked around conspiratorially, before leaning in to Raindrops. “I agree,” she said quietly, and in a tone of voice one might have used to say I accidentally poisoned the Princess. Raindrops chuckled slightly at the tone and the mortified look on Carrot Top’s face at her own words, though the expression fell as another customer came up and bought a raisin and carrot salad, which so far had proven to be her most popular item – it had, in fact, nearly sold out.

After she left, Raindrops continued the conversation. “At least your evil alliance with the Grapes is working out…”

Carrot Top nodded slightly at that, and she was grateful that it had. Put simply, nopony had a snowball’s chance in a volcano of breaking the absolute monopoly that the Apple family had on Ponyville’s produce. The Apples had the best fields, the best equipment, the best workers, the best everything, and the other farmers simply had to make do with what they could get their hooves on. Usually it was everypony for themselves, but this year Green Grapes and his family had hit upon the novel idea of, rather than selling his product directly to the public, working in concert with some of the other farmers to create new dishes that incorporated his grapes and splitting the profits, breaking a Ponyville tradition. Carrot Top had leapt at the idea, as had several other farmers, and the result was the raisin and carrot salad that was selling so well, along with other dishes.

It wasn’t going to break the Apple’s monopoly on anything, but it was definitely helping the farmers who actually needed the bits – and the Apples didn’t, no matter what Applejack seemed to honestly believe.

Carrot Top’s thoughts returned to the present at the approach of a blue-coated mare bedecked in a purple, star-studded hat and cape. “Trixie!” she exclaimed happily, though after a moment her smile dropped when she saw the expression on Trixie’s face. “Oh. Did the show not go well?” she asked, looking between the unicorn and Raindrops.

“No, the show was fine,” Trixie responded as she sat down beside the farmer’s stall, looking over the selection. In her telekinetic grasp there was already a caramel-topped apple, but there was also a small cup of caramel. After a few moments, she telekinetically grabbed a carrot and tossed a few bits into Carrot Top’s coffer – like Raindrops, before the orange earth pony could object and go on about her friends not needing to pay – and proceeded to drench the carrot in caramel, bore a hole in the apple and tossed away the core, and lastly stick the carrot straight through the apple.

“Got any salt?” Trixie asked. When Carrot Top shook her head, the showmare sighed a little before beginning to eat her odd amalgamation of carrot and apple and caramel, the mere sight of which drew odd looks from onlookers. Trixie had the most bizarre diet of anypony that Carrot Top had ever met.

“If the show went fine, how come you wanted salt?”

“Interruption,” Raindrops provided, shifting her straw back to the other side of her mouth. “Some purple unicorn mare with a star cutie mark – ”

There was a pop from near the stall, and a sudden stiff breeze from the appearance of some purple unicorn displacing the thin air. Her sudden appearance made Carrot Top jump, Trixie drop her unholy union of carrot and apple, and Raindrops to continue to sip on her carrot juice at a geologically slow pace, while a number of other nearby ponies seemed equally as startled by the display.

“That’s her,” Raindrops said after a moment of making sure she seemed suitably unimpressed.

“I am not jealous!” the unicorn exclaimed to Trixie.

Trixie blinked at other unicorn a few times, before looking down at her fallen confection. After a few moments, she hefted it off of the ground with magic, considering the pieces of grass that came away stuck to it, before taking a tentative bite. After chewing thoughtfully, she seemed satisfied, and pointed a hoof to her friends. “Twilight Sparkle, this is Carrot Top, farmer and Element of Generosity, and Raindrops, weather pony and Element of Honesty.” She shifted her hoof to point to the unicorn. “C, Raindrops, this is Twilight Sparkle, sorceress and Element of Jealousy.”

“Oh my,” Carrot Top intoned.

I’m not jealous!” Twilight repeated. “I’m…I’m disappointed is what I am!”

Trixie nearly had an outburst herself at that, when she realized that Twilight was beginning to draw a crowd to Carrot Top’s stand. She grinned slightly, leaning over to her friends and held up a hoof as though speaking in confidence to them, though the volume of her voice didn’t change. “She’s disappointed because there isn’t actually an Element of Jealousy.”

“That’s not – !” Twilight began, before closing her eyes and trying to ignore Raindrops’ snickering. She visibly counted to ten. “Look,” she said, “I’m just trying to understand how a pony who is supposed to be the Element of Magic could have put on a magic show I’d more expect from a magic kindergarten filly than from somepony who saved the world!”

“Well, I did save the world. With help,” Trixie added quickly, nodding to Raindrops and Carrot Top, before looking back to Twilight. “It took pegasus magic and earth pony magic – ”

“Earth ponies and pegasi don’t have magic,” Twilight interrupted.

Trixie suppressed a grin. She'd hoped she'd get Twilight to say something stupid; she hadn't expected this. This was beautiful.

Carrot Top was taken aback at Twilight's statement, as were a number of earth ponies and pegasi in the crowd that had been gathering. Twilight seemed to realize her faux pas. “N-not that there’s anything wrong with that!” she added, looking both mortified and honest as she looked between Carrot Top, who seemed more shocked then insulted; Raindrops, who had raised one eyebrow half an inch but otherwise continued sipping her drink at roughly the same rate that continents moved; and the earth ponies and pegasi in the small crowd. “I mean, earth ponies are really good at growing things and are really strong and tough and durable compared to unicorns, and pegasi can fly and manipulate the weather and do other things that unicorns can’t…”

Twilight blinked when the angry looks didn’t go away. “I don’t think unicorns are better than anypony else!” she said firmly. To Trixie, it looked like she honestly meant that, but the damage was done. Twilight came to the same realization only moments later. She closed her eyes tightly, horn glowing, and with a pop she disappeared from view.

Trixie took another bite out of her confection – the grass really did add a pleasant zest to it – and turned back to her friends, chuckling to herself slightly, as the crowd that had gathered around Carrot Top’s stand began dispersing. A few, having had their attention drawn to it now, began to form a line.

Raindrops was staring at Trixie with the same look she had given Twilight Sparkle. “Hey,” she said, “remember after the Longest Night celebration, when you apologized to everypony for being so condescending and manipulative and stuff, and I told you I'd hit you - hard - if you ever acted like that again?”

Trixie considered. “Yes?” she asked.

“Hold still a moment,” Raindrops said as she set her drink down on Carrot Top’s stand and began trotting over to Trixie.

The blue unicorn backed away several paces in fright. Raindrops didn’t speed up to catch her, but she continued advancing. “H-hey!” Trixie objected as she continued backing away, glancing behind her occasionally to make sure she didn’t bump into anything or anypony. “What did I do?”

Raindrop’s wings fluttered a little, though she didn’t take to the air. “That,” she said, cocking her head over her shoulder to indicate Carrot Top’s stand. “Calling that unicorn the Element of Jealousy. Antagonizing her.”

“I didn’t!” Trixie lied, while wondering how to get out of this. Raindrops wasn’t fast, especially not by pegasus standards, but she was relentless.

Which made it a complete surprise when Raindrops stopped advancing, enough so that Trixie, rather than taking the opportunity to flee, stopped moving as well. “Yeah, you did,” the jasmine-coated pegasus said. “What did you think was going to happen?”

Trixie looked down. “She interrupted my show,” she pointed out. “Said that I wasn’t any good at magic.”

“And now you’ve got a huge number of ponies thinking she’s a tribalist,”

"She said it! I didn't make her say that!"

"No, but you were trying to get her to say something stupid," Raindrops said, walking slowly and non-threateningly up to Trixie and touching her forehead to Trixie’s own. “Look, Trixie, we both know you’ve got a delicate ego. And maybe Twilight deserved a little embarrassment. But this? This was too far. By a lot."

Trixie let out a long sigh, leaning in to her friend’s sign of affection. “You’re right…” she admitted after a moment. “I…I should do that whole apology thing, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” Raindrops confirmed as she withdrew from Trixie. “Also, one more thing.”

“Yeah?” Trixie asked without looking up.

There was an explosion of pain in the side of Trixie’s mouth, and she saw stars. The unicorn stumbled a little, falling to the ground in a daze. After millions of years – or maybe a few seconds, Trixie couldn’t tell – the world stopped being a spinning mass of stellar objects and singing birds and instead became a spinning quintet of Raindropses (Raindropsi?), who were looking down at her.

“Open your mouth,” the twirling quintet said. For whatever reason, Trixie obeyed them, and the pegasi leaned down and looked in. “Nothing chipped or broken,” they announced after a moment. “Okay, I have a drink to finish.” With that, the Raindropsi (Raindropsen?) were off.

Trixie closed her eyes and rubbed her jaw with her hoof. She resolved to – once she was certain there was no short-term memory damage – make sure to never get into a situation where Raindrops needed to keep that particular promise ever again.