The Substitute Librarian
Guest Front

The only thing keeping Emerald from giving in to total panic was absolute certainty that everything could be explained by drug interactions. Quite obviously, mixing wake-up juice with mysterious Zebrican cold medicine caused one to see imaginary alicorns. Well, to hear alicorns since he had never actually seen Princess Luna in the library where he was bent over with his bare butt stuck in the air in her direction and she asked if he was single or dating and this line of thought was not helping!

He had put the plastic library card into the correct drawer without the benefit of any functional brain cells, and now all he wanted to do was to jam his nose into there and look through the cards and not find one with Princess Luna smiling through gritted teeth. It would be proof he was hallucinating. Then again, if he found the card, it would be proof in the other direction, and that would mean absolutely no end of panic.

Panic was bad. Emerald did stupid things while panicking, although few things were dumber than mooning the Princess of the Sun like he did when he got his cutie mark. But no. He had to break that record. He was probably the only pony on the planet to have mooned both the Sun and Moon, but that was not enough. He had to go for the peak of stupidity and panic. A moment that would go down in the History of Stupid as a Crowning (lit.) Achievement. He just had to imply that he might be interested in a romantic relationship with Princess Luna. That was a height of stupidity beyond…

Emerald stopped, stared at the maze of colored yarn bits he had not picked up, and gave out a choked-off hysterical chuckle. Princess Luna was… that is the delusion he had of Princess Luna was going to ask Graphite to help with her meeting. Graphite had no sense of social scale, which is probably why his superiors in the Foreign Affairs ministry had been very careful not to allow his path to cross with any alicorns. She was going to ask about him. She was going to meet him. She was incredibly beautiful, he was attracted to winged beauty like a moth to a flame, and…

She was going to go absolutely, positively, right off the end. Worse than Nightmare Moon all over again, although some terribly unhelpful neurons crossed in a short circuit like a thunderbolt in his brain when he thought of Graphite introducing his new mare to Father…

There was still time if Emerald started right now to pick up all of his notecards, clean the library of any evidence of his existence, and gallop to Protocera. Some oceanic swimming would probably be involved, which brought up the optimistic possibility of drowning instead of coming face to rump with another princess, or having to explain to his parents how Princess Luna could identify him only from the rear. Then again, with as rapidly as his heart was hammering away, maybe he would probably have a stroke or heart attack right there in Twilight Sparkle’s library.

No. Won’t work. She’d bring me back to life just to yell at me for littering her home.

Work would help. Something nice, safe, repetitive, boring, mind-numbing, and able to crush his frantic thoughts under fatigue poisons and drudgery. Building a refuge against the world, one small brick at a time. The complex mental task of unweaving his rats nest of colorful yarn was certainly not it, but there was a book sitting on the edge of the returns table.

He moved toward the book on trembling legs, shying away from the quiet clicking noise his hooves made on the wooden floor.

Foals book. Something about a bumpy, wumpy rabbit. Goes on this shelf, between an alligator and a turtle. Alligator book has some frosting on it. Take back to table. Wipe clean. Put back on shelf. Line spines up. Get next book. Keep organizing. Everything in its place. Take control of what little of your life you can.

Is this how Twilight Sparkle feels after she saves the world or fights a giant monster? How does she get up the courage to face the world if she’s back here, hiding in the library afterward?

Individual moments of forced action gave way to minutes of numb repetition, then blessed relaxation started to creep into his tense shoulders and neck at an unexpected thought. The activity felt so much like putting books away in his family library that Emerald managed to crack a smile at the thought of Princess Celestia towering over Twilight Sparkle at the dinner table in the palace. Quietly asking if she was prepared yet to step into the family business of raising Sun and Moon. Setting her up with ‘proper’ unicorn stallions for social events. Dropping little hints about grandfoals.

“No wonder she ran away to Ponyville,” he murmured under his breath while checking the order of two books that some patron had reshelved backwards. It was a much more comforting thought than anything outside of the tree, and provided the exercise he was lacking since he had to climb shelves. Unicorns did not have to climb to reach books, but Emerald had grown up amidst unicorns and learned to compensate, particularly in the library. The irresistible temptation of books just beyond his grasp had honed his youthful climbing education, where to brace against which shelf, how to actually bite more sturdy shelves to get leverage, not to let go when his mother caught sight of him several lengths above the hard floor, and other such lessons.

To conduct shelving operations around the outside of the library’s main room, Ponyville had a wrought iron platform with a crank that would raise it up to the correct height for less athletic earth pony librarians. Unfortunately, the broken crank spun with no resistance, making it only useful as a very heavy table that rattled down narrow slots in the oak flooring like tracks and provided a place for him to stack books.

“Maybe I can run away to someplace out of Equestria, or just out of the way,” he mused. “Doc mentioned he lives in Trotter’s Falls, maybe. It’s fairly obscure, and he could find me a job. The Princesses would probably not care enough to find me down there. Far enough away I’d never have to face my family, or at best, once a year.”

“After Regal’s wedding. And after I graduate. Otherwise I’ll wind up washing dishes instead of teaching. I can keep it together that long. I’m just overthinking things again. And talking to myself.”

A chill evening breeze blew across Emerald’s fetlocks when he climbed down to get one of the last books that needed reshelving, leading him to glance at the library’s front door. He had been avoiding any looks in that direction for some time now, but now it was open just a crack and swinging wider every moment with a low, eerie creaking noise that raised the hair on the back of his mane.

Then the ebon darkness outside parted, and something began to drift into the library through the open doorway. It was a cloaked figure, with the edges of the tattered cloth glowing a faint blue and floating in a ghostly fashion. The library lighting devices flickered once and promptly died, leaving the apparition only visible in the darkness by its own eerie light as it glided forward, making a strange raspy groan with a noise like dry bones whenever it took a step.

It drew closer, crossing into the library’s main room and headed straight for Emerald, with nothing visible beneath the cloak’s shadowed hood but darkness and nothing to hear but his own panicked breathing.

“Cower, Brief Mortals,” came a voice dry as dust. “For I am Death, ‘gainst no lock will hold nor portal bar.”

All of Emerald’s remaining breath went out at once in a gigantic wheeze, and he sat solidly down on the library floor. “Oh, thank the STARS!” he gasped. “I thought you were Princess Luna. What brings you to Ponyville, Trixie?”

“Wait.” There was a brief burst of blue light from under the cloak and the library lighting devices activated, showing less of a spectral figure and something more of a unicorn covered by a bedsheet. The ‘hood’ of the cloak flipped back, and a familiar blue unicorn looked back at Emerald, with tangled tendrils of white mane draped down almost into her eyes. “Greenie? What in the name of Starswirl’s beard are you doing in Twilight Sparkle’s house at this hour of Night? Are the two of you—”

“No!” Emerald held a hoof to his chest and tried to breathe as panic surged back into the area that terror had just left. “No, we’re not anything of what you’re thinking right now. None of it. I just… Well, it’s a long story,” he added while scurrying to the library door and making sure it was closed and the locking wards engaged, then giving it another shove just to be sure.

“Hey, far from me to criticize your choice of bedmates.” As she trotted upstairs, Trixie shed the bedsheet she was using for a cloak and tossed it behind her. “This is great! I’m going to wake up Sparkle and give her such a ribbing for keeping your sorry green rump around.”

“No, don’t— Let me— Just a minute!” Emerald galloped back and forth between the fallen sheet and the stairs several times, trying to get a grip on his renewed panic, before he scooped up the discarded sheet and flung it in the general direction of the bathroom.

“Tada!” filtered down from above before he could get his wits back in order. “Wake up, Twilight Sparkle and marvel at the Great and Powerful Trixie! Hey! Where are you hiding?”

“What?” Trixie poked her head over the stairway and looked down at him. “I was going to catch up on what has been going on before challenging her to a duel this morning. This time, I’m going to beat her sorry excuse for magic and prove the Great and Powerful—”

“She’s out of town,” insisted Emerald with a wave of one hoof, sitting back down before he fell down. “Can you just… come down here and talk with me for a minute?”

“Panic attack. And drugs. But mostly drugs, I think. I hope. Look, just get down here or I’ll mail that letter to your mother!” he snapped.

“Fine!” Trixie flounced down the stairs. “You were a much nicer pony when we were in school.”

“Three years will change a pony. Just… Hold still for a minute.” Emerald put both forelegs around the Great and Powerful Trixie and held on for a while, trying his best to keep from frantically squeezing to ensure she was real and not some herb-triggered delusion.

“Thinking about burning a certain blackmail letter, so just hold still for a moment. I need to know where I am to calm down,” said Emerald with a sniff.

The hug was awkward, clumsy, and uncomfortable on many levels, including olfactory. It did calm him down, even though it brought back some highly uncomfortable memories of college and raised a few questions. Most importantly, the mare he was actually holding was real, not an alicorn, and was not trying to control his life.

That had always been one good thing about Trixie in school. She was so focused on herself that she did not try to mess with his fat head. Beg for homework, steal his peanut-butter crackers at the cafeteria, and insult him, yes. Consider using him as a social ladder into the upper crust, never. It had always given him a sense of relaxation around the blue braggart, trading jabs and embarrassing stories about other students. In some ways, she had been a somewhat-but-not-really friend. Of course, that was years ago, and to have her pop up in the library at Night bespoke of an unlikely coincidence or true desperation.

“No prob.” Trixie patted him on the back. “Trixie did not think her performance was so frightening.”

“Drugs?” Trixie moved a step away and looked deep into his eyes. “You? Mister Clean from college?”

“Zebra cold medicine and wake-up juice,” he clarified. “It makes you hallucinate. By the way, did you happen to see any alicorns outside?”

“Alicorns?” Trixie held a hoof to his head. “You are sick. What’s going on with you and Twilight Sparkle?”

“Um…” It was a question that could take hours and at least one chalkboard to answer fully. “I’ll summarize. Twilight Sparkle doesn’t even know I exist. I volunteered with the mayor to watch her library while she’s out. Enough about me, though. Where have you been since leaving college? I mean other than letting giant space-bears wander through Ponyville.”

“Oh.” The Confident and Brash Trixie sagged like a balloon meeting a pin, and a familiar scowl replaced the pleasant smile she had been using like a mask. “Sparkle’s story reached everypony, I see. She’s out saving the world again, fighting monsters and ancient evils while Trixie is the laughing stock of the country.”

“Actually, she’s at some social event in Manehattan, probably bored out of her mind and wishing she were home,” said Emerald. He sniffed again. “And you’re filthy.”

It was Emerald’s turn for cautious pony examination, and he did not like what he saw. He was not one for being kemp or combed, and had never really been heveled because a long-haired coat was such a pain to keep in that state, but Trixie had always been a fastidious fashion follower with every curl and stretch of coat in perfect condition.

Her short coat over protruding ribs was matted on one side, with a few perfunctory lick-marks that showed an attempt to make the worst of it lie down flat, and she looked almost naked without her obligatory cloak. Even her tangled mane was knotted, with a few thin spots showing where other knots had just been yanked out instead of properly combed. Far worse than her poor grooming was the look of suppressed frustration he could see all across her face, along with just a little more crazy than he remembered. Or maybe he was just seeing himself reflected in her eyes.

“Before you say anything,” started Emerald at a rapid clip, “go take a bath. I just bought some new towels and a manebrush, and there’s enough shampoo to soap up the whole town. Then I’m going to stuff you with—”

“—enough apples to fill out those ribs. And third, I’ll make a cup of tea for you while you’re studying.”

“Studying?” Trixie had an impressive sneer of contempt, worthy of any respectable high-society unicorn matron looking down upon the hornless wretch who was being promoted to wed their daughter. It was an expression Emerald had faced so often that he could shrug it off like water off a swan’s back.

“Until Twilight Sparkle comes back tomorrow evening, you may stay in the library for whatever reason you want. But I’m pretty sure you came to the library to find a spell,” he continued, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “Something that will make Twilight Sparkle impressed with your skill, which is a little loopy but average for what I’ve learned to expect from you. Because this is her library,” he added when Trixie opened her mouth to object. “Any spellbook on the shelves is something she’s probably read a dozen times.”

After a few moments of huffing and casting suspicious glances around the library dark corners, Trixie stalked into the bathroom. “You are such a supercilious brat, just like Sparkle,” she grumbled.

Married life was probably much like this, or at least married life if he had the gargantuan error of judgement needed to marry Trixie. It was a comforting feeling, much like being a servant. Fetching towels, mopping up after her in the bathroom, slicing apples, preparing a pot of tea using all of the equipment that ‘Sparkle’ had available.

Making tea was probably good practice for being romantically pursued by an alicorn, if nothing else.

Cook had always made it look easy, or at least until Young Emerald had started ‘helping’ in the mornings. Using filtered water out of the icebox to get the kettle going was the first critical step. While it was warming up on the stove, Emerald got out the rest of the tea things and took inventory. Trixie had always been picky, so he wanted to do at least something that would relax them both, and preferably nothing that would disturb even one crease in Twilight Sparkle’s immaculately made-up bed.

Tea. Most certainly tea. The other option had far too many long-term consequences to even consider.

He arranged his tools across the counter, the tea strainer, the tea cosy, the tea spoon, the tea tray, a borrowed tea cup, and a box of decaffeinated green tea leaves that was marked ‘For Emergency Use Only’ in the back of the pantry. Oh, and the teapot, which far too many ponies skipped and just dumped leaves in the kettle. Cook would rap his fetlocks with a wooden spoon if he tried such a shortcut.

The pattern, the motions, the ritual, all came together like familiar siblings hunched over a jigsaw puzzle. Each part fit into another, from dumping hot water into the teapot to warm it, then dumping it right back out again with the cooled steam wafting up his nose. Time was of the essence now. The strainer went into the teapot, and Emerald scooped the magically altered leaves right after it. Then came the kettle, and the peculiar sideways pouring technique that earth ponies used to avoid scorched nostrils. A full pot of tea was better than making what he thought was needed and finding Trixie was unusually thirsty, so he poured until the leaves were floating, added a good teaspoon of salt, stirred briefly, and popped the lid on, followed by the tea cosy.

“Calories it is for the starving artist,” muttered Emerald, getting out the sugar cubes and the container of honey, then slicing several apples to go on the tray. He crunched on one sugar cube while waiting on the tea to finish steeping, then got out two teacups and littered their bottoms with several cubes each, and a tiny dab of butter.

Timing was key to making the perfect cup of tea. Emerald was willing to settle for the not-so-perfect-but-heavily-sugared-distraction. When he guessed the correct amount of steeping had been completed, he whisked the strainer out of the teapot and dumped the dripping mess into the sink.

“Close enough,” he muttered while filling the cups, then dropping the tea cosy back over the pot in case anypony wanted seconds.

It must be nice to be Princess Celestia’s pet student, and have a dragon servant to do all the work around the library.

“Order up!” Gripping the tea tray in his mouth, Emerald stepped out into the main library where Trixie promptly relieved him of his burden.

One tea cup was promptly pillaged in a long slurp and the empty tossed back onto the tray before Trixie placed the second cup to her side and began munching on an apple slice. Trixie had literally made herself at home at the main librarian’s desk, in every sense of the word. It was probably a few steps too personal to be wearing Twilight Sparkle’s bathrobe and drinking out what Emerald suddenly realized was her ‘Best Student’ teacup, but it would not be Trixie if she were not pushing the limits. So she sat there with a cup of steaming tea to one side and a hefty spellbook in front of her, doing more studying than Emerald had ever seen her do in school, ever.

And as a prospective teacher, it was Emerald’s responsibility to encourage this positive behavior and retrieve any additional promising spellbooks, so he turned for the correct shelves and began to search.

“Sparkle certainly has a taste for exotic books,” said Trixie, sounding about halfway impressed. “I’ve never seen spells this complex.”

“Bearer of the Element of Magic,” grunted Emerald, trying not to lose his grip and fall while wrestling with one heavy spellbook that did not want to leave its comfortable shelf at this hour of Night. “It’s right there in her title. Ha! Gotcha!”

“They’re impressive, or at least the titles are. I’m not sure Trixie has the power to pull off more than half of them. Or a third,” she added as Emerald dropped the thick iron-bound tome on her desk. “Are you certain none of these are forbidden or dangerous?”

“I doubt it.” Emerald rapped the book across its spine with one brisk hoof when it took a snap at him and bent several paper teeth against his fetlocks. “Nopony would ever store dangerous books in the reference section. Hey, now! Cut that out!” A second sharp rap against the book’s spine made it stop chewing on another spellbook and look vaguely guilty. It was probably a bad thing for a librarian to be mistreating the books, so he picked up the misbehaving tome and tucked it into the crook of his foreleg to keep it away from its fellows.

“Right…” After making another entry into one of Emerald’s spare notebooks, Trixie closed the cover and fixed him with a steady stare. “Spill it. Why are you so eager to have The Great and Powerful Trixie in your presence after three years?”

“Truth or a lie?” he asked once Emerald had settled into one of the library chairs opposite to her and put the book on his shoulder to give it a reassuring series of pats.

“A lie, of course,” said Trixie with a wave of her hoof. “Truth is boring.”

“Boring is right. I’ve studied nonstop for the last three years. I took this job just to get out of Canterlot and take a break from my parents. How about you? The short version.”

Trixie had started to respond, but stopped with a scowl. “The Great and Powerful Trixie does not do short.”

“Or humble, or modest, or apologetic after dragging a giant star-bear through town,” added Emerald, putting the purring book in his lap and giving it an absent-minded stroke down the spine. “Officer Rights said you had a wagon that got smashed in the fight. Since you look such a mess, you obviously didn’t get that replaced. Or replace anything. Even a manebrush.”

Emerald specifically did not mention his missing bit pouch, particularly since it contained only loose change.

“Trixie is fine. Trixie will have a new act shortly, one that will dazzle and amaze all audiences. And Trixie will not need drugs to do it.”

The jab hurt, although it was deserved. Most of his panic had gone away by now, but the combination of wake-up juice and Zebra herbs probably was not going to fade until late into Day. Since Trixie was no longer in a talkative mood and returned to sulking over her studies, Emerald gave the misbehaving tome a gentle pat on the cover and put it back on the table before returning to his own tasks.

In reflection, it was a good example on why he probably should not marry any mare who even slightly resembled Trixe, or particularly Twilight Sparkle. Given a chance to show how bright he was, Emerald would leave hoofprints over the backs of any unwary adult, so any long-term relationship with Trixie was doomed to wind up in a gargantuan fight worthy of her ego. Their egos. Likewise, the only thing he had in common with Twilight Sparkle was overwhelming parental figures, excessive reactions to stress, and an obsession about how other ponies viewed them.

It took a little less than an hour to clean up his tangled web of yarn, consider the possibility of using the resulting multi-colored ball as some sort of learning tool for the young unicorns around town, then haul it out to the trash bin in the dark instead. The last thing aspiring students needed in charge of their magical education for the single day he had left in Ponyville was a drugged-out, sleep-deprived… him.

Sleep was out until the wake-up juice and Zebra medicine had run its course. That also left out an early-early-morning jog around the town circle for fear that somepony would run screaming to the police about zombies. Since he could not keep his eyes focused on anything for more than a few seconds, it also meant he was not able to burn his forced-wakefulness time reading any more of the library. He could volunteer to help Trixie with her research, but he would probably wind up being used as a research subject, and… No. Just no.

It did give him time to go into the dark spooky basement to shuffle boxes around, sweep up a few bits of dirt, and get a better look at the strange machinery Twilight Sparkle was keeping under the dust covers. Then a mandatory trip upstairs to look up the names of some of the mechanisms, and if perhaps they were used in any necromantic rituals in the middle of thunderstorms.

That left him close enough to Sun for a needed task, if not for him, for Twilight’s return.

First, a stop at his saddlebag for his emergency bit supply. Then the library’s bathroom to wash his face and at least try to look fairly equine. And finally, a brisk trot out into the darkened town in the direction of the market. After all, the rural ponies were proud of their early-rising habits, and having a city-bred townie waiting on them for a change would…

There were not enough emergency bits to get him a warm jacket, but a brisk trot around the opening stands and some judicious shivering kept him warm, while negotiating his purchases kept his mind from freezing up. Even the zebra was there, bundled up in a thick coat that barely showed her nose while she was unpacking a tiny cart filled with bottles and bundles of herbs. He lingered around her area, looking for anything vaguely labelled ‘antidote’ or such, before swallowing his pride and continuing in the straightest line possible.

“Oh, my!” The zebra leaned closer, her green eyes almost glowing in the illumination of the market’s lighting devices and the approaching Dawn. “Your eyes. Too much of the concoction did you swill. Make you sick it surely will.”

“Made me see things and gave me a fright,” said Emerald. “An alicorn I even spied last night. Do you have anything to effect a cure, so once again, what I see will be sure.”

There was a long pause where the zebra did nothing but look at him before Emerald continued, “I don’t have to rhyme too, do I? I’m bad at it.”

“No,” said the zebra, turning to her cart and removing a small bottle. “So…”

“Something less than five bits,” added Emerald. “Because I bought some food for the library icebox, since all that was in there was apples, and I’m a little shy of funds.”

“Ah, you are preparing another romantic meal for our librarian’s return.” The zebra smiled. “Perhaps an apology for the books you did burn?”

“They weren’t burned, they were pulped to be made into new books,” insisted Emerald. “And I really didn’t make a romantic dinner for her. It was just some fruit salad with bananas, a hot bubble bath, and a dirty book…” He put down the metaphorical shovel, dumped the last of his bit pouch into his hoof and counted, then passed them to the zebra and took the small bottle in return.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Emerald nodded, then followed the zebra’s eyes to where the library’s lights were still shining against the relative darkness of the town. “I have a pest for a guest,” he continued, “but a guest nonetheless.”

“The mare of the show, I certainly know,” said the zebra. “Please see my sheet returned before it is burned.”

“Oh.” Emerald put the bottle into his saddlebag, wondering briefly why the whole town had such a thing about fire. “I’ll be right back.”

By the time Emerald got done running back and forth on his errands, Sun had been brought over the horizon, and a few library patrons were lining up outside the door. He checked to make sure Trixie was out of the way first, and from the missing spellbooks and the way that Twilight Sparkle’s bedroom door was firmly closed, he derived her Great and Powerful presence within. It would have been easy to keep the patrons outside by locking Trixie inside—except for the obvious problem of the door lacking a lock—so he quickly drew up a bedroom door sign and returned to his desk.

Caution
Do not wake sleeping python
Snuggles is preparing for Winter
and may wrap around you for warmth
Do not panic unless she starts to squeeze
and don’t disturb the eggs in her nest

“Last day in crazytown before I return to sanity.” Emerald took a glance at his homework-filled saddlebag, then up the library stairs where the new sign was busy repelling its first curious bedroom-visiting ponies, who actually backed up fast enough they almost tumbled down the stairs. “If this place is sanity for Twilight Sparkle, her job taking care of things Princess Celestia doesn’t want to deal with must be absolutely wacked.”

Still, as he sat back in the creaking chair and observed his limited domain, it did make him feel ever so slightly like a prince. Looking out over the assets of his kingdom and the busy ponies scurrying from place to place around the world, or at least World History, Aisle Four. His word was law, chastising the guilty, rewarding the virtuous citizens who brought back books in good condition with a smile, and passing out justice to those who cried out for requested books or begged for leniency for their page-tearing transgressions. He needed a scepter. And a crown.

And the bottle of Zecora’s antidote, since obviously he was still suffering delusions from wake-up juice and Zebra herbal overdosing.

Then again, swigging on a bottle while sitting in the librarian chair/throne would not look good at all. Word would undoubtedly get back to the mayor before he finished drinking, and having the reputation as a drunk librarian would be significantly worse than his present somewhat frazzled state.

A quick stop by the bathroom for some concealment solved that dilemma. If he ever took this job full-time, he’d be tempted to store bourbon in the locked closet, for a quick afternoon nip now and then.

All in all, it was a fairly good morning, by comparison to the evening before. No alicorns wandered through the library, making comments about his rear. No little menaces covered with mud came running through the front door, leaving a filthy trail. No unexpected college friends with criminal records dropped by, looking for a place to stay. No problems at all, which left him free to put his head down on the desk for a moment and…

“Wasn’t even aware I was cooking,” muttered Emerald as he lifted his head and started the blinking process. “Only put my head down for a min. Form a line at the checkout and have your books ready—”

The library was quite empty, and the front door closed. Worse, the view out the window showed Sun nearly at the horizon, which left Emerald with several missing hours in his day, and an extra pony standing next to him, shaded in a familiar purple.

“Do you sleepwalk too?” asked the Great and Powerful Trixie, who was still dressed in Twilight Sparkle’s purple bedrobe. “Because every hour while Trixie was working upstairs, I’d hear you call out something weird, regular as clockwork. Even singing once or twice.”

“I… um…” After catching his breath and looking around for any additional unexpected unicorns, Emerald dug the empty bottle out of his saddlebag and examined it carefully. “Have no doubts, this may cause shouts. So sleep after taking, several hours until waking.”

“Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one taking weird drugs from the freaky zebra,” said Trixie. “Since you said Sparkle’s going to show up tonight, are you going to stick around and watch me kick her purple tush?”

“No.” Emerald pried himself up from the chair and gave a short stretch, complete with joint-popping noises as his mind stacked up a ‘To-Do’ checklist that his body was reluctant to start. “Look, I need to run if I’m going to get to the Town Hall before they close so I can turn in my key and get paid. Then I need to run back here and clean up your mess before Twilight Sparkle returns, pack up my stuff, and get out of town before you summon another giant stellar bear.”

“You bring one Ursa Minor through town and you’re branded for life,” muttered Trixie. “Sure you don’t want to stay and watch the fireworks?”

Emerald hesitated at the library door with the spellkey draped around his neck and a lump in his throat. “Not… really. I don’t want to see you beaten,” he added much slower. “You’re always going to be the Great and Powerful Trixie to me. I’d like to keep that image in mind. Just… try not to get hurt tonight, and open the door when I come back.”

The brisk afternoon’s worth of sleeping on the desk made Emerald feel at least a little healthier, and able to get into his regular trotting pattern before he reached the Town Hall. By the time he was trotting casually back to the library, he had a good idea on the elusive problem of Trixie, or at least a framework. And a small bag of bits, since he had managed to talk the mayor into cash instead of a bank draft. After all, cash could get spent in Ponyville, and Emerald had made quite an impact on the local community with his spendthrift ways.

“Thank you very much, ma’am.” Emerald stepped inside the library, glowing softly in the evening dusk with friendly lighting devices and welcome warmth, like a home should be. And with about as many books as he would like in a home, although it had one more Trixie than he preferred.

“Took you long enough. About went to the train station and waited on Sparkle without you.” The Great and Powerful Uninvited Guest nudged Emerald’s packed saddlebags with one hoof. “Collected all your stuff and tidied up some.”

“I’ll say.” Emerald nipped the purple bathrobe off Trixie as he passed and headed upstairs. “There ought to be something for you in the lost and found box that’s a little warmer.” It only took a second to hang up the robe in Twilight’s closet, a small but packed space filled with elaborate dresses done up in more gemstones and silver lace than some of the most rich dowager mares in Canterlot owned. The scent of cedar and cloth was overlaid with a subtle but yet rich aroma that was pleasant to his recovering nose, or at least until he realized how much of that cinnamon and lavender scent came from the well-worn bathrobe in his teeth.

That’s Eau De Twilight. 100% pure magic and she’s going to turn me into a toad if I leave one hair in here so back up one hoof at a time and make sure you don’t oh stars that’s one of Trixie’s.

For a long moment, Emerald was caught between trying to nip every incriminating white hair off Twilight’s robe and the certainty of leaving some of his residual snot or drool behind. Then he just backed up, closed the closet door, and consigned the problem to the future.

Taking a long look around Twilight Sparkle’s bedroom and trying not to feel like a voyeur, Emerald searched in vain for other evidence of Trixie’s presence. The bed was made just as perfectly as unicorn magic could stretch sheets, the desk exactly organized with quills and ink in precise array, and absolutely nothing he could complain about. Even the books were absolutely perfectly aligned.

Likewise in the rest of the library, there were no loose books scattered around or crumpled papers to be seen. Even the spellbooks were nestled snug in their shelves, making little muttering noises and nudging each other for space.

The bathroom was just as clean as if it were his own at home, with a monogrammed towel laid across the edge of the tub, the mirror cleaned, and a fresh roll of toilet paper on the reel, edge out.

“One moment.” He went to the librarian’s desk and wrote a note, taking it into the kitchen pantry and attaching it to the zebra medication so it declared in large letters ‘USE ONLY ONE A DAY AND DO NOT TAKE WITH WAKE-UP JUICE.’ The rest of the kitchen was just as spotless as he had hoped, with the tea things arranged on the tray and the empty kettle in the draining rack. The only thing he found out of place was an empty banana peel, which he dropped into the trash.

And there was a fresh fruit salad in the icebox, cubed and mixed far better than Emerald could have ever done it, which was a pleasant surprise.

“Tada!” said Trixie from right behind him. “The least you can do is acknowledge the Great and Powerful— Oof!”

Trixie was much more pleasant to hug when she was clean and fed. “Thank you,” managed Emerald into her soft neck. “Sorry I’m going to miss your fight.”

“That’s… something Trixie was wanting to discuss.” There was a much more serious Trixie to be seen when Emerald took a step back and looked at her. And intense, also.

“Having second thoughts?” he asked. “Maybe you should consider making peace with Twilight Sparkle instead of—”

“You did not see the way the Great and Powerful Trixie was defeated.” Trixie’s lips twisted into a near-snarl. “It was worse than a fight. Sparkle ignored me. I humiliated her friends, confounded her dragon, did everything that should have driven her into a furious rage. And she… left. Pretended to be an ordinary unicorn, and refused to show her magic. I traveled to this backwater for her! She was going to be my ticket to the big cities! Nopony was gullible enough to believe Trixie had fought an Ursa Major, but the Bearer of the Element of Magic? Defeating the unicorn who saved Princess Luna? That’s something the average mark can understand! Nopony had even seen an Ursa Major before.”

“I thought you brought an Ursa Minor into Ponyville, right?” asked Emerald.

“Who’s telling this story, you or me?” spat Trixie. “Anyway, two of the dumbest foals in this miserable town believed Trixie when she spoke of her exploits of defeating an Ursa Major, so they decided to go lure one into town so they could see me in action! So they found one, got it good and angry, and led it right to Trixie’s wagon.”

It took considerable effort to keep his sarcastic comments choked back, but Trixie did not look as if she was very open to constructive criticism, so Emerald merely allowed himself a brief nod in lieu of a unicorn-powered pounding.

“The deadly Ursa Major was resistant to Trixie’s spells, and could not be bound or struck! Trixie and the beast struggled for hours, with neither of us willing to back down. We were engaged in an epic struggle that had never before—”

Trixie cringed. “Very well. Trixie threw like two spells at it. When it crushed Trixie’s wagon, Trixie was lucky to escape with her life. It was HUGE!”

“Then Twilight Sparkle put it to sleep, and carried it back to its cave,” continued Emerald with a shudder. “You’re planning on confronting her when she gets off the train, after she’s spent the whole weekend surrounded by snooty upper-class twits in Manehattan and getting wound tighter than a two-bit watch. I take it back about not wanting to see you beaten. I’ll be able to watch this one from the train on the way up to Canterlot. I just hope there’s a town left when she’s done blowing off steam.”

“Are you saying that the Great and Powerful Trixie’s plan is anything but flawless?”

“I’m saying there are not enough words in the thesaurus to describe how dumb your so-called plan is,” countered Emerald. “She’s going to beat you like a rug, and if there’s anything left over, drag it back to the library and nurse it back to health and that’s your plan, isn’t it? You’re looking for a warm place to spend the winter. And you were criticising me for my choice in bedmates.”

“No!” Trixie scowled at Emerald with her nose pressed against his. “Trixie has no choice! Nowhere to go! By Winter Wrap-Up, she will be nothing more than a frozen corpse found in a ditch somewhere! Trixie will not come groveling back to Twilight Sparkle like a kicked dog and beg for the scraps from her table! Trixie does not need her charity!”

“Help when you need it is not charity.” Emerald swung one hoof around the empty library. “Was I supposed to throw you back out into the mud? If you’re that worried about dying in a snowdrift, have Twilight give you a job!”

“Oh, says the spoiled rich brat!” spat Trixie. “Since when did you ever have a job?”

There was a fairly long pause, and Trixie’s head slowly lowered like a truculent turtle.

Silence filled the library, a chill quiet that was only broken by the endless creaks and quiet pops of the tree’s preparations for winter. After all, it was full of nuts and certainly had two squirrels in it now. With all the times that Emerald had clashed against his parents and teachers, this was different. There was no ‘winning’ in this argument, since there were few ponies more hard-headed than himself, and butting heads with Trixie was only going to wind up with mutual headaches. By the same regard, there was nothing to compromise. Trixie was going to do what Trixie was going to do regardless. All he could do was be supportive. Just like his mother.

Emerald bit his bottom lip so hard he could taste blood. “No. I apologize. I’m trying to do exactly what my father does. I see something broken and I want to fix it. I don’t know which of us is broken more, but I was wrong to—”

“Trixie… does not want to wind up frozen in a ditch.” Her blue coat twitched with short waves of shivers. “And you may be correct. Sparkle is not going to be in a good mood. Perhaps—” Trixie bit her own bottom lip “—you may be right. A job. Just for the winter.”

“And I can’t see you working in my father’s company,” admitted Emerald. “Manufacturing unicorn device after device, all identical, all with exactly the same spells.”

“I’d rather freeze in a ditch,” said Trixie. “Far worse.” Without another word, she plodded over to the library announcements board and began to look it over while Emerald got out the Canterlot paper and folded it back to the classified advertisements. They searched together but apart for a time, nudging each other to draw attention to certain ads with short nods or shakes of the head, and occasionally exchanging places.

“Here’s one. I think.” Emerald squinted at the page-long missive on the wall, joined by the Great and Unemployed Trixie a few moments later. They read side-by-side for a while, puzzling out the scribbled words and wondering out loud just why anypony would post a recipe for rock soup mixed in with what could quite possibly be a job offer written entirely in pink icing, particularly since the prospective employer was listed as ‘That meanie Mister Pie who you really don’t want to work for’ and the location was ‘The worst rock farm in all of Rock City, except for my sisters, who made me post this.’

“It can’t hurt to try this one, I suppose,” said Emerald, taking out the push pin. “That’s on the other side of Canterlot, so if they’re advertising this far away, they must be desperate.”

Trixie sniffed the paper before sticking it in her saddlebags, which appeared to have been liberated from the library lost and found box. “In the worst case, I can eat it. Do you see anything else? Particularly with ‘high-paid’ or ‘no questions asked.’”

“Appleoosa is looking for a deputy sheriff… No, I suppose not. Join the Royal Guard. Wonderbolts are seeking support staff with impeccable records… No, that looks like everything useful, other than idiot temporary librarian seeks temporary assistant to help clean up before Canterlot’s Smallest Obsessive-Compulsive Therapy Group shows up and kicks both of our buns. That’s about as close as you’re going to get for now. Ten bits?”

After a short hesitation, Trixie accepted the short stack of bits and put them into her bit pouch, then hesitated again.

“You’re welcome,” said Emerald. “Now let’s get to the train station before— Oh, wait. Just a minute.” He dashed upstairs, followed by Trixie’s voice.

“Getting you something warm so you don’t freeze,” he countered. “I saw some clothes earlier in the storeroom.”

It was a small room with no shelves and no real lighting devices other than a dim glow over the door which revealed a dense collection of boxes, packed fairly solid by Twilight the Hoarder, except for a narrow path and several of the empty buckets in a neat stack. “This would work better as a spare bedroom,” he muttered under his breath, looking around for the box that had caught his attention when he had first discovered the area. “It would need to be bigger, though. At the rate an oak tree grows, Twilight’s grandfoals might be able to sleep in here, if they’re patient. Ah, there it is.”

The box labelled Stored Clothes and Journals was easy enough to open, and yielded a thick cloak and pointed hat in short order. Several rips in the cloth had been expertly patched, giving Emerald a brief chill down his own back at the thought of just what might have made that damage, and how ineffectual a mere piece of cloth would be against any of the other fanged and clawed creatures who lived in the Everfree Forest.

He turned the hat inside-out as he made his way back out of the room and back downstairs, calling out, “This should keep you warm, and if you wear the cloak upside-down, you can keep all the sparkling stars and moons from giving you awa— Urk!”

For a unicorn, Trixie had the grip strength of several earth ponies. Her hug was almost enough to crack ribs, and Emerald was gasping for breath by the time she released her energetic hold. With one quick burst of light, she flung on the cloak and hat, then ever so slowly descended to rest all four hooves on the floor of the library again while obviously struggling for a word.

“You’re welcome,” wheezed Emerald. “Now let’s get to the train station before Twilight Sparkle comes back and finds us.”

It was impossible for Night to be both too dark and too light at the same time, but Ponyville managed. Trixie’s presence at his side was devoid of her usual bluster, and he had even convinced her to put the cloak on star-side down, although it just reminded him of the definition of Accessory After the Fact from his legal courses. At any moment, he expected to see some shadowed resident dash forward with a glad cry of “Behold! The criminal mastermind who destroyed our town and her accomplice! Get the torches and pitchforks!”

It didn’t help that they had just walked past a Torches and Pitchforks store, which was another example of Ponyville weirdness, but thankfully closed for the evening. After getting Trixie stashed in a shadow next to the train station, Emerald slipped… Well, more like plodded over to the ticket booth and the elderly mare inside it. “Two tickets to Canterlot,” he managed, getting out his refreshed bit pouch and giving it a shake. “Third class,” he added at the dismal clinking that resulted.

“Better than a walk up the mountain, young lad.” The elderly ticket clerk proceeded to do whatever noisy mechanical ritual train tickets required and stuck the resulting tickets out of the slot.

“Oh, and I need a ticket from Canterlot to Rock City, ma’am,” he added, getting his bit pouch out again. From the sour look he earned, it was probably good ticket etiquette to order all the tickets at once instead of piecemeal, since he was holding up the very short line. While he was counting out the bits and the clerk was making the ticket, Emerald could hear the creaking of floorboards behind him and a faint huff of warm breath across his bare back. “I’ll be done in a minute,” he called back while tucking his bit pouch away.

“That’s perfectly fine, my little pony,” sounded a rich and aristocratic voice that Emerald had not heard since he had gotten his cutie mark. If he had not already been moving, inertia would have frozen him solid, but he managed to get his dry lips around the train ticket that had just been pushed through the window and take one stumbling step at a time in the direction of the train station’s shadows. Doubt was his life preserver in a sea of adrenaline and stress, letting him force his misbehaving hooves one at a time into a slow walk instead of the panicked run he wanted.

As long as he did not look back, Emerald could control his motions to a rough if stiff-legged pace in the direction of away. That is until he heard a second voice behind him addressing the ticket clerk with a quiet, “Would it be acceptable if we were to wait for my sister’s student here?”

“Of course, Your Highnesses,” said the ticket mare behind him, which nearly froze Emerald’s legs into immobility right there, except for the close proximity of welcome shadows engulfing the train station. Accelerating to a brisk trot in the darkness, he turned the corner and promptly ran into Trixie, who he wrapped around like an affectionate octopus as the panic surged in and overwhelmed his limited defenses.

“Urk!” managed his target and little more, because Emerald was not exactly the smallest of stallions, and Trixie had to spread her legs out and brace at the unexpected weight. His positioning left one foreleg around her warm neck and his cheek against her horn, which gave him warning as a trickle of magic began to illuminate it.

“Shh!” he cautioned between chattering teeth as he nudged her horn until the corona winked out. “I’m seeing alicorns again. Just… hold still for a few minutes until I can stand up.”

Thankfully, Trixie did not object, although she did shift positions slightly in order to hold up his not so trivial weight, and made one short grunt. Their present proximity really deserved an explanation, and Emerald was too scrambled to lie and too nervous to shut up.

“C-celestia is o-on the loading platform,” he stammered into her soft neck. “I mean I didn’t see her but I heard her, and if you’ve heard that voice once, you never forget it. All I could think of is she came here to marry Twilight and I… Twilight and me, that is, or maybe Luna because she’s out there too and I’ve always been terrified of other ponies controlling my life and you know what they say about the scale of disasters where there’s one alicorn involved and there’s two of them right there and both of them saw me from the end they recognize and they had to know who I was and I am so, so bucked.”

He had to pause to breathe because things were getting a bit wavey and breathing was important if he did not want to fall down. The scent of Trixie’s coat was comforting in the stygian darkness of the train station’s shadow, although it smelled vaguely of coffee and ink instead of burnt flashpowder. As much as she had been going through lately, maybe she had taken up drinking coffee too, even if she had always seemed like more of a bourbon mare.

“Sorry,” he added. “I didn’t want to drag you into this and I thought this job would get me away from the crazy but this town makes Canterlot look like a pillar of normality and fewmets what was I thinkinging about Celestia? What if they’re here to invite me to Graphite’s wedding as best stallion or oh that’s so stupid! Celestia’s probably here just to smooth Twilight Sparkle’s ruffled feathers after that disaster of a meeting in Manehattan because that’s further than she’s ever sent her student.” He gave his supporting unicorn an extra squeeze, then began to ever so slowly get his hooves under himself again. “Thank you, Trixie.”

The voice was familiar, but very much not Trixie, and a faint light like foxfire lit up the horn of the unicorn that Emerald was getting untangled from. The face was familiar too, a mottled greyish-brown in the insufficient light, with an expression somewhere between flummoxed and perplexed, with just a little levity thrown in as an extra. Emerald swallowed, his hooves still behind the middle-aged mare’s neck with his nose in front of hers so he could see every twinkle in her grey eyes, then ever so quietly said, “I’d like a cell on the north side of your prison, Chief Rights, and a lawyer or twelve.”

“A lawyer?” asked Miranda Rights in a near whisper. “What crime could you two possibly have done this evening. Don’t leave so soon, Miss Lulamoon,” she added as Trixie began to shift backwards into the remaining shadows.

“Um… Discounting assault on a peace officer,” said Emerald as he removed his hooves from around the police chief’s neck and put them back under him where they belonged. “There’s… no, that’s legal. Hm, and that is too. Littering, maybe.” Emerald bent down and picked up the loose train ticket from where he had dropped it and stuffed it into his saddlebags. “I don’t believe consulting the library reference section without a card is a crime, actually. And Trixie’s clothes are hers, so theft is right out.”

The clatter of the arriving train spurred Emerald’s mind to greater speed, partially because of who was probably on it, and mostly because it was an escape out of this situation.

“In fact, the two of us were just waiting for our train,” he continued faster and under his breath, “standing behind this shadowed section of the train station, because we didn’t want to stress the Bearer of the Element of Magic. Trixie is a college friend of mine. We caught up on old times, she did some studying, and now I’m going home and she’s headed to a job. Away from Ponyville. Far away from Ponyville. Where she won’t cause you any trouble.”

At least the police chief looked as if she were considering the balance between dragging an unwanted criminal in front of two princesses and a stressed Bearer, against just looking away for a few moments. And she was staying quiet while the sounds of princess-powered welcoming continued into blessed motion of a group headed for the library and away from the train and away from Emerald and that alone allowed him to take a deep, needed breath.

It would have been so easy to throw Trixie to the local law enforcement in order to ensure his escape, but as much as she was a total and complete burr under the saddle, she deserved to at least have a chance. He just was not sure what form that chance would take.

“May we go now, Chief Rights?” Emerald swallowed. “I’m sorry for grabbing onto you, and I’m certain Trixie is sorry for a great number of things, she just can’t say them out loud. I promise she will not make any trouble, or at least until we’re in Canterlot, where it won’t be your problem any more.”

“There’s nothing in the library that will upset Miss Sparkle?” asked the middle-aged policemare, who was paying only minor attention to the very meek and silent Trixie. “No torn books, no fiscal catastrophes, nothing burned, no Cutie Mark Crusaders’ aftermaths, no pulping, no strange gestures that can be taken as romantic by the world’s least romantic mare, nothing like that at all?”

“It’s very clean,” said Emerald, allowing the words to flow out with only minimal editing. “I mopped up twice after the Crusaders’ flooded the bathroom, and Ratchette fixed the heater. Trixie helped,” he added in what was supposed to be a positive. “And there’s a fruit salad with sliced bananas in the icebox. That’s starting to be a habit. I hope it helps when she comes home after a long day of fighting monsters. Everypony loves fruit salad. It’s about all I can make. Other than tea. And toast.”

“And you are never going to do that affectionate gesture again,” said Miranda Rights in what was most certainly not a question.

There were so many ways to screw up that response. Emerald settled for keeping his mouth closed and shaking his head, expecting to hear a rattle in the process.

“Because there’s a rumor from the Canterlot police about you and policemares,” she added.

“Absolutely false. Whatever it is.” Emerald thought for a second and decided to shut his big mouth again.

“Very well, m’lord. Good Night.” Miranda Rights gave him a fractional nod with her dimly illuminated horn. “And to your unknown companion as well. You should hurry or you’ll miss your train.” After a moment, Miranda smiled with a particularly narrow gap between her lips that just barely showed her teeth in the dim light of her horn. “Run.”

Emerald did not say a word on the trip up the mountain to his home city, although Trixie did, and with her usual flair. It was comforting in some way, because Trixie had gone to… well, been run out of so many interesting places, while all he had done was stay in school and study. Plus, it sounded like she needed somepony to listen, and he did not feel like talking.

Canterlot came too quickly, and he found himself standing next to Trixie in the harsh whiteness of the station’s powerful lighting devices while scattered Night travelers shuffled to their next trains with bleary eyes.

“I don’t know when I’ll see you again,” started Emerald. “I hope that job in Rock City pans out, which is why— Oh. Just a moment.” He dug through his saddlebag in search of the train ticket, only to see Trixie hold it up in front of her with a smirk.

“Is this your card, Greenie?” She made the ticket vanish again and held out empty hooves. “Presto. And now the Great and Powerful Trixie will vanish too. After a hug,” she added.

After a quick look around, Emerald leaned into the proffered hug, keeping his embrace far gentler than before. “Don’t let my father find out about this,” he murmured. “He’ll have a heart attack right there.”

“That bad?” Trixie pulled back to look him in the eyes, appearing almost worried.

“Not really.” Emerald shrugged, getting his saddlebags settled against his flanks again. “He’s managing it. I just worry so much that I see it as worse than it really is. Father’s doctor says he’ll live to a hundred if he sticks to his exercise program and medicine. Still, don’t push it. My parents are so focused on getting me harnessed to another mare that they might take you up on the offer.”

“And we’d kill each other inside a week,” finished Trixie. “I won’t write, just to be on the safe side. But, when I duel Sparkle again, I’m sending you an invitation.”

“I’ll bring the bandages and burn cream,” said Emerald. “Be careful out there.”

“You too, you big green galoot.” Trixie leaned in and kissed Emerald on the cheek, then trotted off to her train without a backwards glance.

It brought a spring to Emerald’s step as he trotted through the dark city on the way back to his fraternity house. Sometimes, things did work out the way he wanted. Twilight Sparkle was not having him arrested. Trixie was not being arrested, or freezing to death. And for himself, he no longer was hallucinating alicorns. It made him chuckle during the walk, with a short glance upwards at the glimmering stars.

The idea that an alicorn of all mares would find him attractive enough to marry was impossible. No horn, no wings, no endearing personality traits other than a nimble mind, and the disadvantage of not being able to breathe around one. No, Princess Celestia was perfectly safe from having to pick long green hairs out of her sheets, and so was her sister. And to think they would even for a moment consider him as a mate to Twilight Sparkle was even more unlikely. Probably Blueblood. He was Canterlot’s most eligible bachelor stallion, after all. He got invitations to parties that Emerald would not even be permitted to visit as a member of the catering staff. And then they would have foals, little unicorns who would need a talented unicorn magic instructor to help with their tricky first magic.

The thought was slightly disconcerting, but he put the feeling off to leftover zebra potions. Things were looking up, and even though he did not bring back a single bit from his job, the trip had been well-worth it. While climbing the fraternity house stairs to his room, he concealed a smile at how Trixie would react to find the depleted bit pouch he had snuck into her cloak pockets during their hug. After all, she needed them far more than he did.

That warm feeling lasted all the way until he dropped his saddlebags onto his desk in the frat room and began to unpack. The missing books from Father’s library could be explained by accident or happenstance, not alicorn borrowing, but the lumpy bit pouch that he could have sworn he had slipped into Trixie’s cloak was sitting right there, with the same number of bits that he remembered inside.

“You little…” He closed the bit pouch with a snap and put it back on the desk, then let out a resigned chuckle. “Oh, well. At least she has a job for the winter.”

Then the displaced librarian curled up in his bed and went to sleep, looking forward to the next day.

The Substitute Librarian

by Georg

12. Guest Front