Letters From a Little Princess Monster
Thoughts, Shots and Lollipops - Part One
“He who has overcome his fears will truly be free.”
— Aristrotle
The early morning sun shone through the Ponyville Golden Oak Library windows at a low angle, illuminating both a multicolored little pony who peered at a top bookshelf with a thoughtful frown as well as the sign that had caused her displeasure.
Reference books may only be checked out with special written permission from the librarian.
Getting through the locked front door of the library had been easy now that she knew how the lock worked. Monster had spent some time examining it several nights ago, repeatedly disassembling it and reassembling it in the darkness until she had fully understood the concept, and then once more to make all the little discs and wheels lined up the way they had been before she started. It had been far easier than the camera, but with her new magic, she did not have the strength to reforge broken parts any more, so she had been exceedingly careful. There were rules in her new life that could not be broken so easily as before, strictures that were enforced over other ponies that now applied to her, and much like the camera and the door lock, it was fascinating to examine how they interacted and what purpose they served. The sign was another mystery to her life that needed to be opened up and explained, and the source for her enlightenment was obvious.
It only took a quick trot up the stairs before she stopped for a careful examination of the broken lock on Trixie’s bedroom door. It was different than the front door lock in both form and function, so after removing it from the door she tucked it into her saddlebags carefully so she could see if Scootaloo could fix it later. For now, learning about the sign was more important.
In the Everfree, it was a very bad idea to awaken sleeping creatures, in particular anything large and potentially dangerous, like mom. The synchronized snoring of Trixie and Spike as they snoozed through the morning hours next to each other made Monster a little reluctant to reach out with a stick and gently poke her ‘sister’ in the hind leg, but after a few minutes to get her nerve up and a few hopeful throat-clearings that had no effect, she did.
Nothing. Not even a twitch.
Monster poked harder with the stick.
Still nothing.
She briefly considered applying the stick to somewhere more sensitive, but discarded the idea quickly. The Urlock had not liked it very much, and Trixie probably would be even more angry than it. A series of waking-up attempts that even included sections from Sleep Science and Theories (Shelved incorrectly under the foals literature section) were similarly unsuccessful, and Monster sat down with a thump. She was hungry, frustrated, and angry, but at least she could resolve one of those before trying again.
* * *
The scent of delectable ambrosia brought Trixie slowly to that fuzzy state between sleep and wakefulness, a drifting sensation much like floating that made her want to stretch her wings and just coast through the air far above the jeers and scorn of her mortal existence. But no matter how much she tried, she felt herself sinking back down slowly to the leaden ball of dirt that defined her life. Even tugging the covers over her head did not prevent reality from brutally intruding into her fantasy, and in a vain attempt to prolong nirvana, she poked her nose out from under the sheets and announced, “Missus Peony, my usual for breakfast, with extra aspirin. And something for Spike too.”
“Emeralds, please,” mumbled Spike as he rolled over in his bed.
There was a long uncomfortable pause before Trixie added, “Spike. We’re not in Canterlot anymore, right?”
“Yeah, thanks to you.”
“Then who’s in our kitchen making breakfast?
* * *
The door to the kitchen gave out a raspy creak as two individuals armed with a box of overdue book notices and a pointed stick peeked inside in momentary horror at the carnage revealed. Open cabinets with boxes and bags of ingredients were scattered around the counters, and wisps of smoke filled the air, although those wisps of smoke did carry one of the most delicious scents Trixie had ever smelled, although with a twist she did not expect. Two intruders stood over the antique oven, one with a frying pan and the other with a cookbook she was frantically scribbling inside, but both turned and looked for the source of the squeak.
“Good morning, Mith Trixe. Thorry about the methth.” Twist stuck a spatula under a gooey pancake and gave it an experienced one-and-a-half flip in the air until it dropped securely back into the hot frying pan.
“That’s…” Trixie took a step inside the kitchen and sat down solidly on a chair with a wheeze. “That’s fine. I’m exhausted. I had the strangest dream last night. What kind of pancakes are those?”
“All kindth. Monther brought thome herbth and thutph, and thaid we could cook over here until you got up. They’re a little thrange for pancaketh, but good.”
“Good, good.” With a quick flare of her magic, Trixie filled her plate and began buttering and peppering a few of the multicolored pancakes, adding a pinch of cloves and smearing some peanut butter and mustard on top. “Spike, did you get the garlic like I asked?”
“No, it must have slipped my mind. Thank you, Twist.” Spike accepted a stack of pancakes from the two little bakers and drooled as Monster sprinkled it with ground-up emeralds. “So what are your plans for today, Oh Great and Powerful One?”
“Eat breakfast. Go back to bed. Sleep until tomorrow. What’s this, Menace?” Trixie looked at the little slip of paper that had been slid next to her plate. “A permission slip? I suppose.” With a flourish, she scrawled her name at the bottom and returned to her breakfast. “I’m just too tired to care right now.”
Spike abruptly coughed, a sharp sound that went on for a few seconds before he spat out a hefty roll of paper that landed on the floor with a thud. There was a rather thick black ribbon around the scrolls, marked in silver with a crescent moon sigil and a rather elaborate signature indicating it had been sent by ‘Princess Luna, Diarch of Equestrian, Keeper of the Moon and Stars, Matron of Shadows and Guardian of Dreams.’
After taking a moment to eye the papers suspiciously, Trixie returned to her pancakes with a growl. “Menace, you’ve got mail.”
The little alicorn gave a squeal of delight before descending on the roll of papers. The ribbon was tucked away, the various bundles spread across the kitchen floor, and she was eagerly reading out loud before Trixie could get her first bite of pancakes.
“Dear Trixie Lulamoon, my sister’s private student.” Monster looked up with a tiny frown. “Lulamoon?”
“Menace! Give me that!”
* * *
Trixie read quietly to herself with only the occasional interjection of “Immunizations?” and “Evaluation?” as Monster leafed through the rest of the papers, a fascinating collection of forms and records detailing her previous life, with titles such as “Canterlot Medical Center Immunization Records” and one blank sheet labeled “Magic Kindergarten Disciplinary Record.” There were even a few photographs of a purple filly with a striped mane and a nervous expression that looked familiar to her, although they bore little resemblance to her now. Still, with a manecut and some dye, she might be able to look that way again. It would not change the way she was on the inside, and her friends would not mind. sweetie had tried several times to style Monster’s mane back when it was only a short stubble, and now that the Elements had regrown it to a somewhat unmanageable mess, she had taken great pleasure in experimenting with something called ‘moose’ and ‘spray’ to make it curve and bounce in ways she had never felt before. Even mom had tried the same shampoo on her that she had traded with the river serpent, and Monster had to admit the results felt nice, even if it took some adjustment in her reactions when it would unexpectedly bounce against her neck.
As twist leafed through the papers to her side and “d’aww’d” at the pictures, Monster tried to think. The other mom and… Her mind slowed to a stop as it brought together an image of Tallgrass in his zebra form, and the blue stallion called Night Light. There were so few memories of dad in her mind that she could not put either of them in that category. Tallgrass had run into the Everfree Forest after them just because Trixie had told him to watch Monster and her friends, and after catching them, had even briefly helped her friends in the fight. She could still remember his face when he came skidding into the ancient throne room disguised as Celestia, only to come face-to-face with Nightmare Moon. He had been terrified, but he faced his fears, literally, and nearly died because of it. If Tallgrass was that brave, what had Night Light done to be her dad? Did he fight lions? Climb mountains? Fight lions on mountains? The answers were somewhere inside her head, and she knew without a doubt that she would be able to remember eventually, but that did not help what her family was going through now.
Family. It had only been a few months ago that her family was just a single zebra in the middle of a forest. Now she had two dads and two moms and enough brothers and sisters she would have to stop for a moment to count them. As well as her friends. It made her want to climb back inside the root cellar and close the door for a few months, but she was not sure if that would be a valid response to the situation. They would all still be there when she got out, and probably even more worried about her. What she needed was some orderly way of dealing with her situation by taking care of each problem as it arose.
“Can you believe this, Spike?” Trixie waved the letter over her head and took a vengeful bite of pancakes, continuing in a slightly more muffled manner. “Princess Luna hasn’t even been sitting on the throne long enough for her butt to warm it up, and she’s already ordering me around just like her sister!”
“...sitting on the throne long enough,” muttered Spike, his quill scratching away on a piece of paper. “Are there one or two t’s in butt?”
Azure magic snatched the letter away from the little dragon and Trixie tore it into teeny tiny shreds. “Spike!”
“What?” he responded, getting out another blank sheet. “It said she wanted an immediate response.” He paused, pen glistening with ink as it prepared to descend onto the writing surface. “You want to write it, or should I?”
“Dear Princess Luna,” growled Trixie with a low grinding noise that Monster determined must have been her teeth from her tightly clenched jaw muscles and the vein that was beginning to throb in her neck. “I have received your letter and checklist of activities, and assure you I will take your…” Trixie ground to a halt and cast a resentful look at Monster, took a deep breath, and continued. “Your little sister on her appointments as scheduled.
Your most obedient and faithful servant,
The Great and Powerful Trixie.”
“...powerful Trixie,” muttered Spike. “P.S. Double or nothing she doesn’t get through next week? Signed, Spike.”
“Can I add… um… something?” asked Monster. “Can you tell Luna thank you?”
“Thank you for what?” asked Trixie while ignoring her little secretary scratch away at his letter.
“She’s going to bring…” Monster paused to take a few breaths of air while Trixie tapped her fork on the table.
“Groceries? Some new curtains for the library? Night Eternal? What? We haven’t got all day here. According to the schedule Princess Luna sent, I need to have you over at the dentist’s office for a checkup by—” Trixie paused to flip through pages “—five minutes ago! Come on!” In a flurry of loose pages, Trixie galloped out of the library with two little ponies in close pursuit, leaving Spike to look around the batter-splattered kitchen with a great deal of resentment.
“I should have known she was going to stick me with the cleanup.”