The audience was not that large, but the two mares put as much effort into the show as any other. They always did.
With a flash of fancy magic and smoke, Trixie raised her hooves, her cape catching in the artificial wind. The hoofful of ponies clapped their hooves together, smiling happily. Trixie returned that smile tenfold, boastful and proud, but filled with an energetic cheer that Starlight could only see in her after they finished a show together.
It made Starlight smile, too.
The stage lights turned off, and with a sigh, Trixie dropped to all fours and met Starlight on the side of the stage. She smirked, trotting past Starlight and toward her wagon.
“You know, Trixie regrets doing that trick with the birds in the end,” the magician told her as Starlight followed. “It was a mistake. We didn’t practice enough.”
Exiting the chilly winter night, Starlight entered Trixie’s wagon and shut the door behind them. “I thought it turned out pretty good,” she admitted, taking a seat on one of the hammocks. “And so did the audience.”
Trixie, setting her hat and cape to the side, scoffed. “Six ponies is hardly an audience,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes. “But still, Trixie supposes she can’t be too upset. Not many ponies go out to watch magic shows on Hearth’s Warming day, after all.”
Starlight watched as Trixie lifted two cups in the air, all the while pouring a warm brown liquid from a thermos into each. Taking the mug that was offered to her, Starlight nodded her agreement. “Well, I guess you’re right, but still. I think we did a great job today.”
Doubtfully, though Starlight couldn’t tell if she was just playing around, Trixie squinted. She stared at Starlight intently, before relinquishing with a sigh. “Alright fine, Trixie will admit that tonight’s show was… not the worst,” the blue unicorn said with a grin. “But she is just glad it is over and able to spend time with her great and powerful assistant.”
Aided by the warmth of the drink wafting up to her face, but definitely thanks to Trixie’s words, Starlight blushed and looked away. “Oh, well, I’m glad to be here, too,” she responded with a smile.
Even despite her flushed cheeks, Trixie narrowed her eyes playfully. “Enough with the feelings, Starlight. It is Hearth’s Warming and we have barely done anything to celebrate!”
Even despite the fact that Twilight had shown her what a fun time Hearth’s Warming celebrations could be, Starlight still hadn’t given it a second thought. “Ah, right. I’ll be honest, Trixie,” she started with a sheepish smile, “I don’t usually celebrate Hearth’s Warming. It’s, ah, kind of not your first priority when you’re busy brainwashing a town…”
Scoffing, Trixie dismissed her with a wave of her hoof. “Trixie doesn’t usually celebrate either, but she thought it’d be nice to spend it with the ponies she loves.” With that, her body stiffened, and she put a hoof to her chin. “Err, pony, I guess. There aren’t many.”
The way she was so nonchalant about saying that made Starlight’s stomach flutter. “Aw, that’s so sweet,” she teased, though she meant it. “Well, Great and Powerful Trixie, what do you want to do, then?”
The magician smiled devilishly and took a long, loud slurp of her cocoa. “Oh, Trixie has a few ideas…”
“It is night! We can’t dally around! I guess we’re stuck together ‘cause we’re Hearth’s Warming bound!”
To say that Starlight’s eye twitched would be a blatant overlook on every other part of her that materialized her disdain for the scene playing out in front of her.
Trixie wiggled in time with the music coming from the mini radio as she sang along almost too exuberant. “We’re off for Hearth’s Warming! We’ve got each other all day! Any da—”
With a swift movement, Starlight knocked the radio off its stand, sending it cluttering. The song cut off abruptly, punctuated by Trixie’s yelp of disapproval.
“Hey! You broke Trixie’s radio!”
Starlight held back a snicker. “Sorry, my leg twitched.”
The glare that Trixie bore through Starlight almost burned. “That was mean.”
“Where did you even get a recording of that song?” Starlight asked incredulously. “We sang it once!”
Trixie cocked her head. “You mean you don’t remember?”
Remember? “Remember what?”
That sly smirk that Trixie often bore slithered back up onto her face. “Oh Starlight. You really don’t remember. Our last date. You drank a lot of cider and we recorded that song because you wanted it as a record or something.”
Starlight gaped. “I don’t remember that!”
Trixie gave her a shrug. “Well, you were a bit… under the influence,” she pointed out. “Anyway, I thought you liked our Hearth’s Warming parody! Trixie put a lot of effort into the mixing…”
Truth be told, she did not like it. Starlight considered sparing Trixie’s feelings, but if there was anything Twilight and her friends taught her, it was that, among other things, honesty was usually the best policy. With a sheepish smile, she shrugged. “Um, no. I… kind of hate it, to be honest, Trixie.”
“What?!” Trixie exclaimed, almost falling out of her hammock. “But it was your idea!”
Starlight scoffed and shook her head. “That can’t be right. I would never ask to do something so… jovial.”
To say that Trixie’s jaw dropped would be an understatement. “You like flying kites! You were out all day yesterday flying a stupid piece of paper in the sky!”
“It’s not just a piece of paper, Trix!” Starlight waved her hooves in the air, forming shapes as she stumbled through the words that came to mind faster than she could speak. “Kites come in all shapes and sizes and are actually not usually made of paper. The density and weight of the material are important and should be considered when buying or making a kite. I like to make them, so I—”
“Trixie doesn’t care.” She huffed and crossed her forelegs. “You broke her radio!”
She was still upset about the radio? “Okay, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t take it anymore,” Starlight admitted. She pointed at the radio. “It wasn’t even a good parody! The lyrics are something that a foal could have written.”
The angry grimace on Trixie’s face softened. She pulled a hoof up to her mouth and failed to stifle a giggle. “But you wrote them.”
“Can’t we just do something else? Maybe we can go to a restaurant and eat something,” Starlight suggested, pushing down the annoying embarrassing ball of anger that seemed to fire up inside her. She loved Trixie, she really did, but sometimes she was just so…
“No! We can’t go to a restaurant on Hearth’s Warming,” Trixie responded with a scoff. “Look, Trixie has some food here she can prepare, and in the meantime, we can listen to the Yak Song.”
Starlight shot her a glare. She was so confusing.
“What? Trixie can’t cook without music.”
With a sigh, Starlight relented. “Fine. As long as it’s not poorly written holiday parodies, I’d rather listen to it.” And this Yak Song might be nice.
Scooting to the edge of her hammock, Trixie shrugged. “Whatever you say, Starlight,” she muttered as she lifted a little pot to the little nightstand and placed it on top, lighting a tiny fire in a small space inside it.
From somewhere in the wagon, a crackly, rumbly crowd of voices filled the space. “Yak song, yak song. Not very long. Sing again.”
The short verse repeated over again. And again.
Starlight frowned. “This… is the Yak Song?”
Humming along to the repetitive tune, Trixie nodded, pouring some kind of soup mix into the pot. “Yes. It’s a real work of art, isn’t it?”
Starlight could hear the audible shattering of glass in her head.
Or, at least she wished she could. It would sound better than the song she was forced to listen to. Her eyes scanned the tiny wagon. Where was that radio?
“Yak song, yak song. Not very long. Sing again.”
Ah! There it was. Starlight stared at the radio that stood on a drawer between their hammocks. How had she not noticed it before? Stupid Trixie and her stupid magic.
“Yak song, yak song. Not very long. Sing again.”
“Wait… Trixie?”
“Yak song, yak song.”
“Yes?”
“Not very long. Sing again.”
Starlight stared back at the broken radio on the floor, then at the perfectly working one on the drawer. “Where did you get another radio?!”
“Yak song, yak song. Not very long. Sing again.”
As Trixie cooked the holiday meal and pointedly ignored her question, Starlight reached out a hoof and opened the drawer. Inside was a pile more of the same little radio.
She closed the drawer.
With a spark and a pop of magic, Starlight disappeared.
In the wagon, silence hung like holiday lights, brightening up the space. Trixie smirked, filing her hooves as she waited for the soup to cool. Why Starlight didn’t want to listen to the radio was beyond her. On Trixie’s many travels, she’d come to appreciate that radio station, as desperate for songs as they were.
Yak Song had quickly become her second favourite—after the parody that Starlight had insisted they put on the air—if only because its only competitors were a copious amount of ten-second songs from Pinkie Pie.
But even so, she knew how annoying it was.
Behind her, right on time, the wagon door burst open. The joyous song of the yaks filled Trixie’s heart once more. Oh, and the pony that came with it.
Trying on her best poker face, Trixie turned to face Starlight, who stared blankly ahead with twitching, bloodshot eyes. She’d been only gone a few moments. Trixie’s lips curled up in a slight smile. “So, would you like to sing our song with me now?”
Starlight huffed. Her jaw clenched for a moment before she gave up. “…Yes…”
Trixie nodded, completely satisfied. She took a tiny taste from the soup. It was perfect! “Great! Allow me to get it ready.”
She lifted the radio on the drawer in her magic and turned it on with a click. The radio tuned in to a different station; one that had their song on repeat.
Unbeknownst to Starlight, a different small, tiny radio hung from the bottom of her barrel. With her newfound skill in teleportation magic, Trixie subtly made it disappear. A smug grin plastered itself on her face as the Yak Song went with it.
"That'll teach you to release the doves early..."