Previous Chapters
Close
Hitting Rock Bottom1,607 words
Sleeping Like a Rock3,454 words
Rock Hard Abs3,560 words
School of Hard Rocks4,911 words
Pass the Rock Salt - An Interlude Over Lunch4,367 words
Rocky Relations 5,256 words
Rockupational Training - An Interlude into Trixie's Past4,175 words
Between a Rock and a Hot Plate5,436 words

Between a Rock and a Hot Plate

Between a Rock and a Hot Plate

The drawing of the wheel sat between Humble and Trixie like a ghost rising up from her past. A specter of accusation, threatening to once again roll over her, crushing her hopes and dreams. Glancing up, she caught Humble staring at her. Looking away quickly, he pretended to check the sky, and Trixie felt a rush of gratitude.

He doesn’t want me to be uncomfortable, she thought, a small smile creeping across her face, only to disappear as her eyes were pulled irresistibly back to the sketched wheel on the ground. It’s always there, she thought. Always following me. I’ll manage to get a little ahead in the world, and Muleiard just shows up again and tears it all down!

“Well, I reckon you’ve been carryin’ that heavy load for quite a spell, eh?” Humble finally said.

“Yes,” she replied softly, wishing her voice sounded more confident, but it was all she could do not to burst into tears again. “That school’s made my life a living hell.”

“Oh, ayuh. It’s plain that there’s truth in that.” Humble leaned forward, scooping up Trixie’s stick. “But the way I see it, there’s really two wheels.”

“What are you blathering about?” Trixie snapped, frowning. She dropped her eyes as Humble looked up, surprised. I slip on anger like an old saddle, she thought, I’ve worn it for so long that it just feels right. Swallowing, Trixie forced herself to meet his steady gaze. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I-I’m just a little on edge.”

“It’s to be expected, I suppose,” Humble replied mildly, etching a second wheel in the ground in front of the first. “Now, we’ll call this wheel ‘Muleiard,’” he said, scratching the name in the dirt beneath the first wheel incorrectly twice before getting it right, “and we’ll call this wheel ‘Trixie’,” he continued, etching her name in the soft dirt.

“WHAT?!” Trixie thundered, jumping to her hooves. “How dare you?!”

Humble frowned deeply, his eyebrows slamming together to give him that look of profound irritation that Trixie had become so familiar with. “You’ve talked enough for three lifetimes over,” he growled from around his pipe, “but it seems to have landed you far afield. Why don’t you try listenin’ for a bit?”

For several long seconds, they stared at each other, snarling. Finally, Trixie threw up her hooves and sat down heavily, resting her cheek on her hoof. “Fine, whatever you want,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s not about what I do or don’t want,” Humble said, poking his pipe in her direction. “It’s about what you need! You’ve been wronged, and wronged sorely, but you’ve a hoof in that, as well. More than a hoof, truth be told. No, don’t give me that!” he shouted as she opened her mouth angrily. “Nopony’s more responsible for your mess than you are! Now, about these wheels—”

“Humble Pie!” Mag said, stepping around the wagon. “Don’t you have one drop of compassion in that broken-down heart of yours?” Mag sat down delicately beside Trixie, and pulled out a familiar kerchief.

“Hey, that’s my—” Trixie began, reaching for the cloth.

“Shh, dear,” Mag replied, wrapping the kerchief securely around her hoof. In one swift motion, she ran it across her tongue and began rubbing the matted fur and tears beneath the unicorn’s eyes. “No, stop it!” Mag said, as Trixie sputtered and tried to pull back. “My, my, but you look a mess.”

“When—oof!” Trixie said as the matronly pony attacked the other side of her face with the kerchief. “When did you get here?”

“Oh, I’ve been listenin’ for about thirty minutes now,” Mag replied cheerfully, remoistening her kerchief. “At first, I reckoned you were tryin’ to lure my husband away with your feminine wiles!” she said, staring fiercely into Trixie’s eyes. “But then I caught your story, and I realized that Humble was just being a good father, like he’s always been to you girls.”

“Mag, what are you goin’ on about?” Humble said, frowning at the interruption.

“Oh, don’t be so modest, Humble,” Mag said, running a hoof through Trixie’s mane to help restore some of it shape. “Our girls have always relied on you. Isn’t that right, Trixie?”

“Uh…” Trixie said, slowly turning to Humble. Her confusion was mirrored on his face, and he gave the smallest of shrugs.

“Mag,” he said gently. “Trixie’s not one of—”

“Oh, ain’t she?!” Mag shot back, and both Humble and Trixie blanched. “Let’s straighten a few things out!” Humble backed up slowly as Mag jumped up and advanced on him, poking at him with a hoof. “Did you have her pull the Lullaby Wagon?”

“Well, ayuh, but—”

“Seems like that’s normally my job,” Mag cut across, raising her voice. “And did she have a hoof in exercisin’ the rocks?”

Humble nodded stiffly, still walking backwards as his wife continued her verbal assault.

“Did she give the rock speech?”

He nodded again.

“And I saw her pullin’ down the rockfort with my own two eyes!” Mag said, nearly pressing her face against Humble’s.

“Funny, that’s not what you said you saw—” Humble replied as his rump bumped against the wagon. Mag had left him nowhere to retreat.

“The point is that those chores have been done by our family since this farm came into bein’!” Mag shouted. “Done by your hoof, or mine, or the girls!” Humble swallowed as Mag stared at him, her angry face inches away from him. Suddenly, she turned away, dropping down beside the nonplussed unicorn. “And now, done by Trixie!” she said, picking up the unicorn’s hoof in her own.

Trixie’s jaw dropped open as Mag’s eyes began to mist over. “She lost her folks, Humble,” Mag said, her voice thick with emotion. “She lost her folks, and then that awful school did everythin’ but protect her. Somepony’s got to be a guiding light!” Mag looked meaningfully back at Humble, and then squeezed Trixie’s hoof tightly. “Who better than us?”

Humble’s mouth dropped open. “Mag, you can’t just add ponies to our family! Why—”

“Don’t start with me, buster!” Mag growled back. “You treated her like family, and so she is!”

“I’m payin’ her!” Humble yelled back. “She’s under contract!”

“Well, you paid the girls for their time, too!” Mag shouted.

“That was different! They needed an allowance!”

“How?!” Mag thundered. “How was it any different?”

“BECAUSE SHE AIN’T OUR DAUGHTER, THAT’S HOW!” Humble bellowed.

The group fell silent as Humble’s words echoed off into the distance. Flushing, Humble looked away, staring off into the brilliantly blue sky and chewing on his pipe. Mag turned her head to follow his gaze, then twisted back to say something to Trixie, her mouth working wordlessly before she closed it again. Slowly, the mare’s face hardened and she rose, releasing Trixie’s hoof.

“Humble Pie,” she hissed softly. “I never thought the day would come when I’d say that I was ashamed of you!”

“Now you see here—” he said, whirling.

“No, you see here,” Mag said quietly, but with a conviction that demanded attention. “We’ve been given a chance here to pass on our blessings. We’ve had all the precious things this filly could only dream about, but you don’t want to share! How could you, Humble?!”

“She doesn’t want what we’ve got, Mag!” Humble said, pointing to where Trixie sat. “She’s wantin’ fame and fortune and the like! We’ve got rocks and hard work. Long hours and low pay!”

“No,” Mag said, turning and brushing Trixie’s hair gently with her hoof. For a moment, she fell silent, searching Trixie’s eyes with her own, nodding at what she found there. “What we’ve got is love. Love and respect and honesty,” Mag said finally, turning to nail Humble in place with an expression that spoke of iron. “Don’t pretend you don’t feel it, Humble Pie!” she said. “You’ve been sittin’ with this filly for the last forty-five minutes, tryin’ your darndest in your ham-hoofed way to heal her hurts. I know you inside and out, and you can’t let this pass any more than I can.”

“But, Mag—”

“Go ahead!” Mag said, refusing to flinch. “Go right on ahead and say it. If you can, I’ll let it drop! Go on and tell her that you don’t want her around!”

Stunned, Trixie slowly swiveled her head to where Humble stood, flustered and fretting. Her heart was suddenly hammering in her chest, making her feel hot and light-headed. A family? Trixie thought. Glancing down, she found that her hooves were twisting around each other. Taking a deep breath, she placed them between her hind legs, squeezing them until they stopped moving. Trixie stared back up at the farmer, her mouth suddenly very dry as the silence stretched out between them.

“Would…” Humble began, stopping to clear his throat. “I-I mean, is that somethin’… that’d you’d even want? To be part of an unsophisticated, backwoods gang like ours?”

Trixie meant to answer with confidence. She meant to thank them coolly for their offer; to let them know gently that she appreciated the gesture, but that she didn’t require it. She wanted to let them know that she was fine. That her travels had made her quite accustomed to solitude, and that she’d grown to prefer it.

But she didn’t.

Looking into Humble’s face, she understood. H-he’s as scared as I am! she thought, her mouth dropping open. He’s scared I’m going to reject him! He wants me here, in his family! They both want me! Trembling, Trixie reached out, embracing Mag and pulling her close. She tried to control it, but as the matronly mare wrapped her legs around the unicorn, Trixie began to cry. Softly at first, but building in intensity until her whole body shook. The pain of years and years of loneliness and heartache welled out of her has Mag gently rocked her, cooing soothingly into her ear. After a moment, Trixie started as Humble knelt down to wrap his legs around her, too.

“Yes!” she finally managed to choke out. “Yes, I want to be part of your family!”

~~~

“Then the dinner plate sits top of the charger. Yes, like that,” Mag said, eyeing Trixie’s work critically. “Now, mineral water to the left. Just there.”

“Look, is this really necessary?” Trixie said, wiping the sweat from her brow. The afternoon sun was beating down on her ferociously, and she wished for what seemed like the millionth time that she’d brought her wide-brimmed hat with her from the trailer. Trixie motioned with her hoof at the seemingly endless rows of picnic tables the Pies had set up in the pasture. “It’s going to take all night at this rate!”

“Nice of you to notice,” Humble grumbled as he pulled the heavily loaded wagon to the next set of benches. “Seems I recall sayin’ that a time or two.”

“Now, now, Humble. She’s new to this!” Mag chided, pulling more flatware from the wagon. “You’d be just as lost up on some stage.” Mag sat suddenly, placing the plates and silverware absently on the ground. “Speaking of… tell me a little bit about your shows, Trixie! Why, I bet—”

“Mag!” Humble yelled, sweeping his hoof expansively around the field. “The rocks…”

“My, my! I’m sorry,” Mag said, shaking her head briskly before flashing Trixie an apologetic smile. “I do get distracted so easily these days!”

“These days!” Humble mouthed silently, rolling his eyes. Despite the heat, Trixie found herself grinning. With a grunt, she lifted the heavy stack of plates and began arranging them on the rough wooden table.

“No, leave some room there,” Mag said, pushing the plates a little further apart. “The young rocks can be a bit messy. It’s best to give ’em a little space.” Mag eyed the table critically, then nodded. “Right, now that the table is set, we can show them the menus.”

“Menus?” Trixie said, staring at the mare incredulously. “Humble’s only made one—”

“SHH!” the stallion hissed, waving his hooves to silence her.

“Oh, we know, but the rocks prefer it when they think they’ve got some say-so,” Mag whispered, cupping a hoof around Trixie’s ear. “They’re a little willful at this age. Hard-headed.” Mag lunged suddenly into the wagon, and Humble grimaced as unseen items under the canvas tarp behind him banged and clattered. “Ah, here we go!” Mag said finally, pulling out a large stack of menus. “Just pick the rocks up from the bench and put ’em on the plates.”

“Carefully!” Humble added.

“What?!” Trixie said, her eyes darting back and forth between the farmers.

“Look, I’ll go through it, but we’ve got to get a move on,” Humble said, sighing. He briefly checked the sun’s position and shook his head. “If they’re goin’ to grow right, rocks need a balanced diet. They’d try to get away with rock candy day in and day out if you’d let ’em, but here at Rocky Road farm, we follow a strict system of nutrition!”

“That’s right, dear!” Mag added. “But we try to make it both good and good for them!” Opening a menu, she thrust it into Trixie’s face. “See?”

Pulling her head back, Trixie pursed her lips and snatched the menu from the eager mare’s hoof. Scanning it, she felt the familiar pain behind her eyes begin to build. Everything about rock farming seemed designed to give her a headache.

Appetizers

Aged Rockfort Cheese, paired with Stone Ground Water Crackers and Mineral Water

Soup of the Day

Minestony

Dinner

Fresh Rock Lobster, served with a Harden Salad, Sautéed Karats and Pea Gravel, with fresh slices of Bastone Bread

Dessert

Moist and Delectable Marble Cake

“You want me to show this menu to each and every rock?” Trixie said faintly as she let her eyes travel slowly across the vast sea of tables.

“Well, not before we get ’em settled in,” Mag said, lifting the closest rock from its place on the wagon. With practiced care, she gently set the rock in the middle of the plate. “You gotta place ’em just so, or else they might not get a full meal.”

Trixie rubbed her temple vigorously, trying to quickly count the benches. “But there are hundreds of rocks here!” she said. “We’ll never get it done this way! It would take days, even if we never took any breaks!”

Humble cleared his throat, frowning at Trixie. “It’s what comes of dragging your hooves!” he said. “It can’t be helped. We were a-needin’ to start this yesterday, but I’m sorry to say we’re far behind schedule. If the rocks don’t get fed by tonight, they won’t be top-grade. This is the critical growth period!”

“But it’s impossible!” Trixie shouted, whirling on the stallion before looking away, sighing. “Look, I’m sorry,” she said, stretching out a placating hoof. “It’s not that I don’t want to help, but setting the tables? Showing menus to rocks? Serving every single one?” Trixie turned, sweeping her hoof in a wide arc in front of her. “Humble, I can’t even count all of the benches!”

“Oh, ayuh, it’s a whopper of a job!” Humble growled from around his pipe. “And the sooner we start, the sooner it’s over with. While we sit here jawin’, the day is wearin’ on and—”

“Why don’t you use your magic, dear?” Mag said cheerfully. Both Humble and Trixie turned slowly to face the mare.

“Well…” Trixie said, cringing slightly. Her heart sank as she watched Mag’s face light up.

“Just think about it, Humble!” Mag said, clasping her hooves together in front of her chest. “Why, we’ve never had a unicorn help out before! I’ll bet she’ll get it done lickety-split!”

Trixie gulped loudly, her eyes darting back and forth between the pair. On one side, Mag’s hopeful face beamed back at her. On the other, Humble wore a pained expression as he rubbed the side of his face with his hoof.

“Mag,” Humble said, “Trixie… uh, well… she’s not…”

“I can’t do magic!” Trixie blurted, as the blood rushed to her face. “I mean… I-I’m no good at it.” Trixie’s eyes dropped to the ground. “I never have been.” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “Well, I can do a little, but—”

“Oh, pish-posh!” Mag said, swatting Trixie playfully with her tail. “You’re a unicorn, ain’t you? Hasn’t been a unicorn born that wasn’t good at magic.” Mag pulled back the canvas tarpaulin, revealing stacks of dishes. “Now, why not give it a go?”

“But—”

“Ah-ah!” Mag said, grinning. “No ‘buts’!”

“Ah, Mag—” Humble said, eyeing the delicate stoneware.

“Not a word, Humble,” Mag said, running her kerchief over Trixie’s horn a few times. “I believe in her, and you should, too. She’s family, and she won’t let us down!”

Family, Trixie thought, her mind rapidly cycling through a thousand memories. How long has it been since I’ve really thought of my family? She remembered skinning a knee as a filly, her mother rocking her as she cried. Her father reading to her beside her bed. And she gasped as she suddenly remembered when they’d told her that she was the most magical unicorn they’d ever seen.

It was Hearth’s Warming Eve, and they’d been snuggled down in the living room of their house beneath a blanket. Her father had been making them laugh with funny stories about his job as a talent scout for a record company, and Trixie had wanted to make them laugh, too. Reaching out with her magic, she’d animated the various ornaments around the room, commanding them to re-enact her father’s tales.

Her parents sat, stunned, as the room came to life. All around them, puppets and figurines capered, teased, and argued with one another. Wide-eyed and laughing, her father grabbed her up, lifting her high in the air and spinning around. Trixie laughed hysterically, then sighed happily as her parent wrapped her tightly in their embrace.

Then they’d asked her a thousand questions. How did she do it? Had she done magic before? Had any of her friends seen it yet? Finally, they’d told her that she was very special, and that no unicorn they’d ever seen had done such advanced magic at such an early age, and neither of them had ever heard of one doing it untrained!

For months afterwards, they guided her, showing her the ins and outs of magic use. They told her that she was a prodigy, and that with hard work, she might be the most magical pony who’d ever lived. Shortly afterward, the Muleiard invitation had arrived. Her parents had been apprehensive about sending their daughter away to a boarding school, but Trixie had become focused on self-improvement. She would not be swayed from her destiny.

They were so excited to help me back then! she thought, tearing up. My family! I just wanted to make them happy that night, but, somehow, it all became about me…

“Trixie, dear!” Mag said, laying a hoof lightly on the unicorn’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“My family!” Trixie said, her voice growing husky. “I left my family to go to Muleiard! I left them behind without even a goodbye, and then I was so mad that they’d died and left me that I… I made myself forget about them! I didn’t want to remember them!

“Uh…” Humble said, his gaze shifting uncertainly from his wife to the unicorn and back again.

Trixie said, turning to stare directly at him. “I-I think I finally understand!” she said, swallowing hard. “My magic! I left it behind when I left them behind! It worked when I was trying to make ponies happy, but all this time, I’ve just been trying to make myself happy.”

“That’s right, dear!” Mag said, beaming. “We’re all stronger when we give to others. That’s what family is all about. You’re one of us,” Mag continued, patting Trixie on the shoulder, “and we love you and believe in you.” Stepping back, Mag pointed to the rows of tables, her smile faltering a little. “And right now, we need you.”

It was faint, at first. So faint that it took Trixie several seconds to realize the change, but as Humble and Mag backed away, wide-eyed, she realized that it must be real. A coursing stream of power, starting from her heart and spreading slowly through her body. A surging wave of warmth and happiness that had been absent since her fillyhood. “I-I can feel it!” she cried, her mane floating around her in a halo as magic arced from her horn. “I can feel the magic in the air around me! It’s flowing into me!”

Turning to the cart, she reached out with her arcane power, mentally feeling each place setting. It’s almost foal’s play! she thought as she lifted hundreds of dishes into the air. Laughing, she separated them and sent them flying over the rows of benches to land in precise rows.

“That’s it!” Mag squealed, jumping and punching her hoof into the air, pausing only to knock Humble’s gaping mouth closed. “You’ll draw flies, dear!” she said, her eyes sparkling as she laughed.

Closing her eyes, Trixie concentrated, grabbing hundreds of rocks and lifting them into the air. With the delicacy and control of a master artist, she placed them all on their plates, following up with the menus which descended on the tables like a bizarre flock of birds.

Humble’s mouth worked wordlessly for several moments. “You did it!” Humble said finally.

Trixie opened her eyes again to look back at the farmer. His cheeks were wet with tears.

“You did it!” he cried again, beaming. “I despaired for our crop this year, but you did it!” Unlatching himself from the wagon, he ran to Trixie, lifting the surprised mare into the air and twirling her in a circle. “I knew you had somethin’ special inside you!” Setting her down, he enveloped the unicorn in a fierce hug, and Trixie felt her eyes welling again.

“Well, she’s not done yet,” Mag said in a business-like tone. “The rocks are still a-waitin’ to get fed.”

“Right,” Trixie said, struggling to keep from rolling her eyes. “Feed the rocks.” Reaching out again, she lifted the multitude of pots and trays high into the air and sent them to work.

~~~

“No, and I won’t hear another word about it!” Mag shouted, the color rising on her cheeks. Both Trixie and Humble took a few cautious steps back as she bared her teeth at them. “Family stays together! I won’t have you sleepin’ outside when there’s room enough in our empty house. Now, c’mon.” Mag turned, trotting off toward the farmhouse.

“It’s like she’s a whole different pony,” Trixie said, shooting Humble a perplexed glance.

“Oh, ayuh. She’s always been like that,” Humble sighed, shaking his head. “Changes as the wind blows. She’ll be happy, then sad. Angry one minute and laughin’ the next. Folks around here all think she’s a bit odd, and I reckon she is.”

Humble rebuckled the harness of the wagon around his chest. “Whew! It’s almost a joy to pull this thing around empty. Anyway, she’s got a reputation for unpredictability, but there’s a core of steel in that mare the likes of which Equestria has never known.” Humble grinned, puffing out his chest. “I wouldn’t trade her for the world. She’s a headache from time to time, but a pony couldn’t ask for a better wife or mother.”

“Did you mean what you said back there, Humble?” Trixie asked quietly, dropping her eyes to the ground as they walked. She found herself dragging her hooves as fatigue set in. That unfamiliar use of magical power had left her drained.

“Ayuh,” he replied, glancing at the unicorn questioningly. “Mag’s always been—”

“No,” Trixie said. “I mean, when you said that you saw something special in me.” Trixie stopped, suddenly unsure. “What… what do you see?”

“Workin’ a job like this,” he said, pointing to the fields with a hoof, “you learn to judge character. Farmin' not a job that you can do without guts and determination. Now, I fussed at you plenty over these few days,” he continued, glaring at the unicorn sternly, “and you deserved every bit of it, but did you ever stop to wonder why I didn’t send you packin’ the minute you got here?”

“Well, I—” Trixie started.

“You! A city mare with delicate hooves!” Humble continued, raising his voice. “Arrivin’ on my farm lookin’ like she’d never done a lick of work in her life, but she was dusty from the road. Pulled a heavy trailer the whole way here behind her.” Humble winked at the unicorn. “I didn’t miss that. Only a pony who knows a thing or two about hard work would do that. Then I find out that the trailer has all your magical doo-dads and whizbangs and who knows what else. You brought ’em here because you’d never think of doin’ less than your best, even though the load was heavy as all get out.”

Arriving at the barn, Humble backed the wagon into its usual place. “Then I started assignin’ tasks, and what a fiasco it was. I had this vain, stubborn unicorn fightin’ every step of the way, but in the end, she did what was needed. In fact, she did it the best she could, even if she didn’t realize it.”

Humble unbuckled the harness, rolling his shoulders to ease his aching joints. After a few satisfying cracks, he walked to Trixie, placing his hooves on her shoulders. “So what did I see?” he asked her solemnly. “I saw a mare who was ready to work. She wanted to be the best and to do the best, but she’d been shown the wrong path at some point, and it’s a hard thing to know you’re on the wrong path until somepony shows you that there are different paths to be on. I believed you had it in you to find a new path because you knew how to work hard, and changin’s about the hardest thing a pony can do.”

“But… you were so mad earlier,” Trixie said in a small voice. “You… you didn’t want me around…”

The words hung in the air between them, each finding it difficult to look at the other. Finally, Humble cleared his throat. “Well,” he said slowly, “I can’t say that I’m proud of that. It’s a tough thing to have kindness thrown back at you. You’d already said you couldn’t wait to leave the farm behind quick as you could.” Humble made a show of arranging several nearby tools that were already in immaculate rows. “And that means leavin’ me behind, as well,” he finally finished.

“I’m sorry,” Trixie said, reaching out to him. “I’d been lost for so long that I’d forgotten what help looked like.” Tentatively, she lightly embraced the stallion, then tightening the grip. “But I’m glad I found it! Thank you, Humble.”

Humble patted her legs with a hoof. “We’d best be getting’ back to the house,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Mag would probably lose her mind if she found us like this.”

~~~

“Have you lost your mind, Mag?!” Humble cried the mare slammed the sledgehammer into the farmhouse’s stony exterior. “Just what do you think your doin’?” Galloping forward, he snatched the massive tool from the mare, running a hoof over the wall to inspect it for damage.

“Well, she can’t get that trailer in through the door, can she?” Mag said, throwing her hooves out beside her.

“She’s not needin’ the trailer in the house!” Humble barked, snatching off his hat to run his hoof through his thinning mane. “Use some sense, Mag! She can sleep in one of the girls’ rooms!”

“But—”

“It’s okay!” Trixie said, trying to calm the storm she could see building inside the mare. “I’m, uh, looking forward to sleeping somewhere other than the trailer for once,”

“Really, dear?” Mag said, tilting her head slightly to the side as she smiled. “My, my! But I’ll bet it does get stuffy in there! Okay, have it your way, then.” Thrusting a hoof into her bun, she pulled out a large key.

“Don’t ask,” Humble said quietly as Trixie cocked an eyebrow at him.

Mag inserted the key, jiggling back and forth and swearing under her breath. “You never do get around to replacin’ this ol’ thing, do you?” she said, scowling at Humble.

“Well, you know how the young rocks feel about new metal!” he snapped. “You want a stampede on our hooves just so you don’t have to twist a key a few times?”

Mag turned to Trixie, rolling her eyes elaborately, and Trixie had to fight back a fit of laughter. “Like the rocks come to the house!” Mag muttered as she opened the door.

Inside, the farmhouse was meticulously maintained, but every bit as dull as the surrounding land. Quaint grey furniture sat against slightly darker grey walls, all set off by lighter grey accoutrements. Trixie ran her tongue along the inside of her teeth, nodding. What else did I expect? she thought.

“I’ll show you to your room, dear,” Mag said, trotting up a set of stairs that had blended so perfectly into the grey wall behind them that Trixie had missed them entirely. Testing it with her hoof, she slowly ascended behind the mare. The unrelenting grey on grey was almost like an optical illusion, and she found navigating the stairway to be more difficult than it seemed.

“Here we are,” Mag said airily as she reached the second level. “Oh, just a warning—”

The warning came too late. Suddenly, Trixie’s eyes were assaulted by a riot of color. Gripping the bannister tightly, she fought back a wave of dizziness.

“Careful!” Mag said, throwing a leg around her and pulling her up the last riser. “My, my! I should know better! That’s Pinkamena’s room. It strikes everypony that way.” Mag shook her head. “I wonder where my mind is sometimes, Trixie. You’d think I’d know by now to close the door when we have company, but…” Mag paused, stroking the bright yellow door jamb with her hoof, “… it reminds me of her when I see it.” Sighing, she closed the door. “I’ll set you up in here,” she said, pushing open the next door down the hallway.

Poking her head in, Trixie smiled at the simple furnishings. Once she would have sneered at the small bed with its homespun quilt, but she was so physically and emotionally drained that the bedding seemed fit for Celestia herself. Trixie tested the mattress with her hoof, and was delighted to find that it was soft, yet supportive. As Mag busied herself pulling out fresh pillowcases and opening the closets, Trixie stretched out, allowing herself to sink into the bed.

“Now, I’ll get started with dinner, but you can have a snack if—”

Mag turned suddenly as a soft snore interrupted her. On the bed, Trixie had fallen asleep. “Oh, the poor dear,” Mag said, pulling the quilt over the exhausted unicorn. “I’ll just leave some crackers and a glass of water here for her.” Turning off the light, Mag quietly closed the door.

That night, Trixie slept soundly for the first time since her parents had died.

1,357 views

190

Previous Chapters