Starlight and Trixie were in Trixie’s wagon on Trixie’s bed, doing the most intimate thing two mares could do — reading quietly side by side.
Motes of dust danced in the bars of golden spring sunlight pouring in through the windows. Notes of birdsong filtered in from outside. The only other sound was the musical hum of unicorn magic and the flick of turning pages. Starlight poured over some quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. Most of Trixie’s concentration was on her novel — some humie thing she’d gotten from Lyra; it was about a band of cute humans fleeing their lost homeland and looking for a new land to call home1 — yet she relished the feeling of Starlight’s soft hip pressed up against hers cutie mark to cutie mark, the slow rise and fall of her ribs as she breathed.
The ramp outside the wagon creaked. Trixie’s ears perked up. The lock clicked, and the door creaked open, revealing Maud with a plate balanced on her back covered with a burgundy cloth napkin.
“Pinkie made brownies,” said Maud.
Both Starlight and Trixie marked their places with the solemnity this announcement occasioned.
“I shouldn’t,” said Starlight. “I’m on a diet.”
“The great and hungry Trixie will have yours if you don’t want it.”
Starlight frowned. “It’s not fair. Trixie, you stay slim no matter what you eat, and Maud just turns it all into muscle. I keep getting fatter and fatter.”
Maud pushed Trixie’s small dining table over to the bed with the top of her snout. “We like you soft and snuggly.”
“I don’t like me soft and snuggly,” said Starlight. She levitated the plate onto the table and pulled the napkin away. The brownie’s crispy-looking top gleamed. Its sides were delicate and moist-looking. Partially melted mini marshmallows rose from its delicate dark brown surface like chewy shipwrecks floating in a chocolate sea.
Trixie frowned. “You only brought one.”
“It’s big,” said Maud in her matter-of-fact monotone. “We can share.”
Trixie nodded. “If Starlight doesn’t want any, we can cut it in half. Maud cuts, Trixie picks.”
Maud opened the silverware drawer and riffled through the assorted cutlery — all plastic utensils, chopsticks2, and pepper packets from takeout orders — and pulled out a butter knife. “Good plan,” she said around the handle.
“Hold on, hold on,” said Starlight. “I said I shouldn’t. I didn’t say I wasn’t going to.”
“Fine,” said Trixie. “Maud will cut it three ways and…” her brows knit. Her brain shuddered and sputtered. “Three ways and…”
“But who,” said Starlight in a grim stentorian tone, “will pick?”
Trixie flourished a hoof. “The great and objective Trixie will choose!”
Starlight frowned. “The way the great and greedy Trixie hogs the covers doesn’t give me a lot of hope about her objectivity.”
“Sleeping Trixie isn’t the same as awake Trixie. Awake Trixie is very fair.”
Maud cleared her throat. “I’ll just be very careful to cut it into equal pieces.”
“Good,” said Starlight. “It’s very important that things be equal.”
Maud and Trixie gave Starlight a wary glance.
Starlight rolled her eyes and gestured emphatically at the brownie with her chin.
Maud gripped the handle of the plastic knife between her teeth with the delicate precision earth pony mouths are capable of. She cut a line from one corner to the approximate center of the brownie. She did the same from the next corner. Finally she positioned the knife at the approximate center of the opposite side and pressed it down.
“Maud, no!” said Starlight. But it was too late. The brownie was cut.
Maud set down the knife. “What?”
“The shapes are different pieces!” Starlight waved both forehooves at the brownie slices. “I mean, the pieces are different shapes! Those trapezoidal ones are very definitely bigger than the triangular one!”3
Maud squinted at the brownie pieces. “I might’ve messed up.”
“Trixie thinks those might be rhombuses, not trapezoids. Also now that she looks at it, Pinkie cut crooked, so one rhombus is bigger than the other.”
“I’ll get a ruler,” said Starlight.
“No,” said Maud. “I messed up. I’ll take the triangular piece. I’m not that hungry.”
“And the magnanimous Trixie will offer Starlight the larger of the two other pieces.”
“No, you take the big one, Trixie. If I eat it my butt will just get that much bigger,” said Starlight.
Trixie smiled a slow smile. “That’s the idea.”
“Fine. Fine. I’ll take the biggest piece. Shall we?” said Starlight.
Trixie levitated away her piece. She held it under her nose to inhale its rich chocolate scent, then put it past her lips. The brownie’s velvety texture filled her mouth. The smoothness of the chocolate and the decadent chewy texture of the marshmallow provided a lively contrast.
“Oh my harmony, Pinkie is a goddess,” said Starlight around a full mouth.
Maud grunted in agreement, both cheeks bulging out as she chewed and swallowed.
Trixie’s brownie was gone soon too. As she licked the last crumbs from her telekinesis, a wicked idea sneaked into her mind.
“I know a way we can even things up,” said Trixie.
Maud raised an eyebrow.
“What’s that?” said Starlight, staring regretfully at the now-empty plate.
Trixie beckoned them close. “I’ll whisper it to you.”
Starlight scooted closer on the bed and draped one foreleg over Trixie’s. Maud shouldered the table aside and stood nose to nose with them. Trixie nuzzled her slim snout in between the others’ muzzles. Her nostrils flared, savoring the bittersweet smell of chocolate on her lovers’ breath. Her tongue darted out, tracing across the thin cupid’s bow of Maud’s upper lip and the plush softness of Stalight’s perpetual pout.
“Oh, Trixie,” breathed Starlight.
Maud gave a stoic moan. Her back knees tremble beneath her frock.
“Let me taste,” whispered Trixie.
Both mare’s mouths opened. Her tongue darted inside Maud’s mouth, and Starlight’s joined her. Their small tongues darted back and forth across Maud’s big one. Tingles of pleasure danced across the roof of Trixie’s mouth. Though the brownie was gone, the silky-rich taste of chocolate still lingered on their tongues, on their hot breath. Cheeks grew hot, flushed. The three of them kissed, and kissed, and kissed until all the chocolate taste was gone.
“There,” said Trixie, licking her lower lip. “Was that fair?”
“I don’t know,” said Starlight. “I think Maud should go and get another brownie.”