"Stupid bee!" Diamond Tiara said with a snarl, kicking the stuffed animal across the room.
It was not the stuffed animal's fault that she was annoyed. It was merely an easy target upon which to express her rage. No, the source of her anger was Miss Cheerilee. Why did she have to make everyone do a report on their mothers? It was not fair. Surely those in the class whose mothers were dead should have been excused? But no, Miss Cheerilee had insisted that they could ask other family members.
"Yeah, that works really well when your father is out of town on business. Makes it rather hard to ask him, doesn't it, Miss Cheerilee?" she grumbled in the bee's direction.
"Well, you could have started the project before your father went away on business, rather than waiting until the last day," Diamond Tiara imagined the bee replying in Miss Cheerilee's voice.
"Shut up, you... you... worthless blank-flank bee!" she yelled.
She contemplated walking over to the bee and punting it back to the other side of the room, just to show it who was boss, but abandoned the thought with a loud sigh. Doing so would change nothing. Besides, the stupid bee had a point. She should have finished her homework sooner, just like Silver Spoon had done.
Still, she was not going to admit to anyone that the reason she could not do her homework was because she had screwed up. She could make this work. Truth be told, she did not know much about her mother. She had always only had her father, and that was all the family she needed. She had barely even asked any questions about her. But now she would need every scrap of information she could recall. Just what had her dad all told her? She sat down at her desk and picked up a pencil, jotting down what she could recall.
It had all happened during her father's final year at school in Canterlot. He had gone to see a traveling magic show. One of the performers had taken a fancy to him and sent him a poem, asking him to meet her that night. That one night had been all they had had, as when he went to look for her the next day, the show had already packed up and moved on, with no clue left as to where they were going next. He had never seen her again, and he never would, for a baby had been left on the doorstep, with a note. The note explained that the baby was his, and not to bother looking for the mother, for she was dead.
She frowned. She needed more. What else could she remember? Her mother had not been an earth pony. She knew that, for her father had mentioned that his parents would not have approved of her. They had hoped he would meet the daughter of a well-off earth pony family in Canterlot. Her brow furrowed as she struggled to recall, then grinned widely as it came to her. A unicorn! One additional piece of information, but still not enough. If only her dad had kept pictures or something...
The pencil dropped from her mouth. Amongst the old photo albums was her father's scrapbook from his college days. He had kept the poem in there, she recalled. Perhaps there were other things she could use as well. Maybe even a picture. She got up, determined to go up into the attic, with its cobwebs and dust. Probably some rats and spiders. By herself. To dig through who knows how many boxes to find the right one. On second thought, she would send one of the servants.
"Almost a year later, I was left on my father's doorstep, with a note explaining that my mother had died. And so I have never known my mother. I don't even know how she died. But it is enough that I know that in the few hours they had together they loved a lifetime's worth. Thank you." Diamond Tiara stepped away from the chalkboard as she finished her presentation and awaited the applause that would no doubt be forthcoming.
"Um, you do know Trixie is still alive, right?" Apple Bloom asked. Diamond Tiara's jaw dropped.
"And she's so awesome!" Snips exclaimed, with enthusiastic agreement from Snails.
"No, she isn't," Scootaloo countered. "She was a jerk both times she was here."
The class erupted into a loud argument, with some claiming Trixie was the worst pony to visit Ponyville ever, while others, led by Snips and Snails, extolling her virtues. Diamond Tiara paid no attention though. She felt light headed as she tried to take in what she had just been told. Her mother was alive? And she had come to town and not even visited her? Not just once, but twice!
All her life, she had barely thought of her mother. Mothers were just things other fillies had. But her mother being alive changed everything. Now, having a mother was the important thing in the world. If her mother would not come to her, then she would go to her mother. She would find her, wherever she was, and then they would be together, for who could refuse her? No doubt Trixie had just panicked, worried about how her daughter would react. Or maybe the rest of the town had driven her off. Probably Apple Bloom's sister and her friends. That would be just the type of thing they would do.
She slammed the door to her house shut behind her. She screeched to a halt, wide-eyed. A quick glance around confirmed that she was indeed home. Based on how her heart was racing and how she was gasping for breath, she had run the entire way home. Well, no time like the present to start her search then. Ignoring the queries of the servants, she set to work packing.
Once again, things were not going quite as Diamond Tiara had expected. Oh, she had tracked down Trixie easily enough. That part had been simple. But rather than a tearful reunion, her mother was being obstinate. She did not look quite how Diamond Tiara had expected either. She had expected some mix of white and pink for coat and mane, like her own. Instead, her mother was blue. And she spoke a bit funny as well. That did not deter Diamond Tiara though. White or blue, even if she spoke like an Apple, she would love her mother. Just as soon as her mother quit being as stubborn as a mule and accepted the reality that her daughter had just found her.
"While Trixie was in Canterlot at that time, she does not seem to recall having a daughter," Trixie said, her eyebrows scrunched together, eyes shifting, while she tried to recall such an event. "No, Trixie is quite sure. No foals. She is pretty sure she would remember if she had. From what she has heard, the experience is supposed to be rather memorable."
"Oh, no you don't, mom," Diamond Tiara said. "You're not getting rid of me that easily this time. I've tracked you down and now I'm going to live with you and help you and stuff."
"What?" Trixie said. "And just how are you going to help Trixie?" She rapped Diamond Tiara on the forehead with a hoof. "Can you do magic? Or perhaps you will pull the wagon so Trixie does not have to?"
Diamond Tiara looked at Trixie's wagon, taking in its size and rather ramshackle condition. For the first time since setting her mind to this course of action, she experienced second thoughts. She had been sure her mother would be successful, the cream of the crop, with sold out shows wherever she went. Not living in a beat-up, worn-down gypsy wagon, with faded paint, mismatched wheels, one quite a bit newer than the others, and parts that looked ready to fall off at the slightest bump. It was almost enough to make her throw up.
"You live in that? And you pull it? Don't you have magic or servants for that?" she asked. "I thought you were supposed to be great and powerful?"
Trixie rose on her rear hooves and extended her forelegs dramatically into the air. "Trixie is great and powerful!" She dropped to all fours and looked at the ground sheepishly. "But she has been having a run of bad luck." Her bluster returned, and again she reared up. "Never fear though, Trixie will not be kept down. Like a phoenix, she will rise from the ashes. Except better than a phoenix, because Trixie will have fireworks!"
"And I'll be there with you, mother and daughter together," Diamond Tiara said, quite determinedly. "But I'm not pulling that thing," she added just to be clear.
"No. Trixie travels alone. She learned her lesson about relying on others long ago. They'll just run off with your bits."
"But—" Diamond Tiara started to protest.
"No. Now, if you'll excuse me, Trixie is in a hurry. I need to, um, get to the next town while there is still enough daylight left to do a show."
Before Diamond Tiara could bring up how she had traveled and searched wide and far, about how she was owed this, or any of a variety of other reasons why her opinion of how things should play out was the right one, a stallion cleared his throat rather loudly.
"What?" Trixie said as she spun around, coming face to face with a brawny, brown-coated, grey-maned stallion and several of his equally muscled friends.
"You weren't planning on leaving without paying, were you?" the stallion asked, his narrow eyes staring at Trixie, as if trying to see her thoughts. "We got a nice jail for them that tries that."
Trixie laughed weakly, glancing around for some avenue of escape. Seeing none, she stalled for time. "No, of course not. Trixie was totally going to pay for the wheel before leaving. Just let me..." She pulled out her coin purse and looked inside. "Oh."
"Oh?" the stallion asked, as his minions took a step toward Trixie.
Trixie grinned a grin Diamond Tiara knew well, having seen it many times from her classmates, especially the colts. It usually came when they were about to tell Miss Cheerilee the most blatant and obvious type of lie, like the time Rumble had sworn that parasprites had ate his homework. "Well, Trixie seems—"
"To have forgotten she gave the coins to her daughter and assistant, " Diamond Tiara said, pulling out her own purse, which, unlike Trixie's, jingled with the sound of coins. She looked over at Trixie. "Right, mom?"
Trixie's head swiveled back and forth between the stallions and the filly.
"Well?" asked one of the stallions.
"Trixie is thinking!" Trixie exclaimed. "Any chance the jail has all the modern amenities? No, well, I didn't think so. Okay, fine." Trixie nodded, mind made up. "Well, go on, daughter dearest. Pay the nice stallion."
Diamond Tiara gave a bow, in sync with her mother. The crowd's volume rose yet again, to new highs, as flowers rained down upon the stage. She gave one last wave before the curtains fell. Things were going well.
At first, it had been rough. Their equipment — she could not quite recall when it had gone from being Trixie's to theirs, but it had — had seen better days. The trailer had needed all sorts of repairs. And she had needed to learn the tricks of the trade. Her first appearance on stage had almost ended in disaster, but luckily, the crowd had thought her screwing up was intentional, and the tip jar had been filled to the brim. They had worked some of that into the routine, and it never failed to please the audience.
The resulting higher income had let them fix up and replace some of the gear, as well as add new elements to the act. Trixie, who had at first complained, now had even printed up new flyers with both their names. By now, Diamond Tiara and Trixie were a well-oiled machine, smoothly running through each performance. Even when things happened that were not planned, one would compensate in some way, and the other would intuitively play along. It was like how it was between her and Silver Spoon, but better, because this was her mother.
She walked down the stairs backstage at Trixie's side, to see a familiar stallion standing there. She bounded forward, throwing her forelegs around his neck.
"Daddy! Look! I found her! I found mom! She's alive!" She pointed a hoof toward Trixie. "See?"
When she had imagined this moment, she had envisioned shock, disbelief, and joy. Not what she got though. Instead, her father seemed confused. And Trixie, well, Trixie glared at Filthy Rich, before raising a hoof and jabbing him in the chest. "You! How could you leave Trixie pregnant and then never tell Trixie that she has a daughter?"
"Wait? What? It was your assistant I loved, not you!"
"Is that why you took Trixie's daughter? Because of Flash Style, the lanky unicorn with the fleurs-de-lis cutie mark? That whorse! Trixie hates her even more now. Bad enough she stole all Trixie's bits, so that Trixie had to sneak out of Canterlot like a common criminal to avoid the creditors."
Filthy Rich reared up, nostrils flaring in anger. "I don't believe you! She was so pure and—" He stopped yelling and dropped back to the ground. "Actually, I guess that would explain why my coin purse went missing that same night. And why the note left with Diamond Tiara which said she was dead was signed with her name." He stamped his hoof down. "I was conned! All this time I have treasured her memory, and it turns out I was nothing more than an easy mark."
"And now Trixie finds out she stole Trixie's daughter too! Unforgivable! Trixie will scour the ends of the Equestria until she is found."
"Wait, what?" asked a puzzled Filthy Rich. "Diamond's not your daughter."
"But of course she is. Look at her: She's a natural showpony, just like Trixie," Trixie stated. Diamond Tiara puffed out her chest and beamed with pride, nodding at her father.
"But I didn't sleep with you," Filthy Rich explained.
"Trixie did not say you did," came the reply.
"Then how could my Diamond possibly be your daughter?"
"Magic? Discord? The meddling of four stars? How should Trixie know?" She paused and her look grew more contemplative. "Although... if she wasn't my daughter, that would explain why Trixie does not remember being pregnant." Trixie sat down and began to think.
"I don't care," Diamond Tiara said. "I'm keeping Trixie. She's everything I've ever wanted in a mother. And this Flash Style, well, forget about her. She sounds like she's no good." She reached into her saddle bags and pulled out the poem her father had treasured for all those years.
"Wait!" Trixie said. "What is this?" Her magic reached out and grabbed hold of the paper, and Diamond Tiara let it go.
"The poem your assistant used all those years ago to seduce me," Filthy Rich stated. "The beauty of those words was such that it overwhelmed all sense and made me easy prey to that harlot." He spat. "And yet knowing that, I would do it yet again, even if the cost were greater, for such is the power of those words upon my soul."
"But this is Trixie's writing. I wrote this. But that means..." Trixie peered at him, examining him closely. "You are older now, but it is you. You are the one to whom Trixie lay bare her fragile heart that day. When you did not respond, not even with a note saying you found Trixie unworthy, it broke her— It broke my heart." She turned away, wiping her eye carefully with a hoof. "Trixie is not crying."
"But I did— And she— And that means —" Filthy Rich fell silent, a look of loss on his face. Of all the things Flash Style stole from us, this is the worst," Filthy Rich said, spitting on the ground as he said the name. "All these years we could have had..." He reached out and took Trixie's hooves into his own, and the two ponies gazed into each other's eyes. So quietly that even an owl would have had trouble hearing it, Diamond Tiara clapped, while her face bore a huge grin that would have done Pinkie proud.
"Then it is settled," Diamond Tiara decreed. "Trixie is my mother, and as soon as we get back to Ponyville, we're making that official. You're getting married, daddy!"