//------------------------------// // The End // Story: The Wyrd of a Dragon // by Gizogin //------------------------------// The Wyrd of a Dragon Chapter Six "Miss Trixie!" Trixie blinked at the sound of her own name. It took a moment for her to realize that it meant somepony was calling for her. "Yes?" she answered automatically. "Can you sign my poster? Please?" Sign? Poster? "Oh!" That was right; she was in the lobby of her theater, signing autographs for the fans. The voice that had snapped her out of her daydreams belonged to one of them. Specifically, a little unicorn filly with a messy, yellow mane and a pink coat. She was too young to have earned her cutie mark yet, which wasn't much of a surprise. So many unicorns, once they were old enough to have learned a few spells, saw no reason to pay to see what they could do themselves for free. Any unicorn can make rope tie itself in knots, they'd say. Maybe they have a point, Trixie thought. With a flick of her horn, she scrawled her name on the poster thrust in her face, then called for the next pony in line. Forget unicorns; Trixie can think of a few earth ponies who could have put on a better show than that. As a rule, Trixie wasn't one to dwell on a bad performance. Fix what went wrong and move on; that was her creed. This show, though, had been harder than usual to let go, particularly because nothing had gone wrong. Trixie had practiced her repertoire so many times that she could do it in her sleep, and none of her props had broken down or caught fire this time. Even so, as Trixie stamped out half a dozen more autographs on whatever surfaces were placed on the table before her, she couldn't help but feel that she'd put on a bad show. Her heart hadn't been in it, she realized. She'd been distracted and unfocused; though her performance had been technically flawless, it hadn't been Trixie. It's Twilight's fault, she thought, but it sounded hollow even to her. Twilight may have been the one to ask for her help, but it had been Trixie who had decided to give it. After Trixie had brought Spike's mental representation of his body back together with his mind, the dragon had woken up. There had been tearful hugs and heartfelt thanks, or at least there would have been, had Trixie not run out of the hospital and back to her apartment as soon as possible. I didn't even say goodbye. Trixie had done her job; more than that, she'd woken Spike up. All she'd had to do was find out why he was unconscious, and in truth she hadn't actually done that. Perhaps it was the lack of closure that kept her from moving on, or maybe it was how she'd run off without asking for a reward. Something in her mind kept screaming that she wasn't finished with Spike and Princess Twilight just yet. A commotion at the back of the line brought the magician back to the present. It's just somepony shoving, she guessed. It wasn't too common, but her older fans sometimes got the idea that they were too important to wait like everypony else. The building's security guards would put a stop to it soon. Sure enough, a burly stallion in a vest trotted over to the disturbance. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked, his booming baritone carrying easily across the lobby. "He's trying to jump ahead!" answered a shrill, female voice. From her seat, Trixie couldn't see the speaker, but she didn't bother trying to get a better look. That is, until she heard the accused. "No, I'm not!" That voice! It sounded eerily familiar and yet unlike any pony she knew. "I don't even want an autograph! I just came to give Trixie a message." "Wait in line like the rest of us," came the shrill voice again. "Listen, bub," the guard growled, "The Great and Powerful Trixie's time is very valuable. Either wait in line like everypony else or speak to her manager." "Fine," the troublemaker muttered, clearly unhappy but unwilling to make an issue of it. I know that grumble. "Spike?" she yelled, standing on her hind legs to see over the crowd. Sure enough, between the guard and a diminutive pegasus, she spotted a row of green spines that jumped at her voice. "Trixie!" Spike yelled back. "Tell this guy to back off, will ya?" He doesn't seem any worse for wear, Trixie noted dryly. "You heard him, Rope. Let him through." Spike at least had the decency to look slightly embarrassed as he walked past the ponies waiting dutifully in line. When he got to the table, he stopped and twiddled his claws. "Hey, Trixie," he greeted, not meeting her eyes. "Hello, Spike. How are you feeling?" She had to reach for the words, but it was better than sitting in awkward silence until Spike found his voice again. "Better. That's kinda why I'm here, actually." "I figured." "Yeah." For a moment, neither of them said anything. Suddenly, Spike seemed to notice the crowd of increasingly-less-patient ponies beside him, and he said, "When you're done here, can you come outside? Please? Me and Twilight wanted to talk to you." Don't let her hear you say 'me and Twilight', Trixie thought. If anypony were the type to fuss over proper grammar, it would be Princess Twilight. "Sure," she agreed. Before Spike could make his exit, she called to the guard, "Hey, Rope, can we wrap this up?" Rope wasn't surprised, or, if he was, he didn't show it; he was a professional, after all. "All right, everypony, show's over. No more autographs today." Over a chorus of complaints and dark mutterings, he kept his voice level and commanding. "Please proceed to the exit in an orderly fashion." As the crowd of disappointed fans herded out onto the street, Trixie felt a pang of guilt. These ponies had come to see her, after all; it wasn't fair to deny them that for her own personal reasons. She couldn't do much about it now except hope for them to forgive her. Once the lobby had all but emptied out, Spike and Trixie headed for the exit. Twilight had chosen to meet Trixie in Manehattan's Central Park. She was waiting on a bench when Trixie and Spike found her; as soon as she spotted them, she stood up. "Hello, Trixie," she called, giving the showmare a little wave. "Hello." "I, uh, brought her," Spike said. He walked quickly over to Twilight's side, taking comfort in her presence. It was not intended to be a slight, but Trixie noticed the way the tension left his shoulders as he put some distance between the two of them. "Thank you, Spike." Turning to Trixie, Twilight said, "You didn't give us a chance to thank you yesterday." "Trixie didn't do it for thanks." If Spike had been uncomfortable standing next to Trixie, it was nothing to how Trixie felt now. She wanted nothing more than to forget this whole thing and go back to her show. The princess matched Trixie's scowl with a smile of her own. "Well, thank you anyway." "Yeah, thanks, Trixie," Spike added. "Twilight told me what happened." "You don't remember any of it?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Not really. The last thing I remember was getting a carrot dog outside the hotel. Then I woke up in the hospital." Trixie blinked. 'The key to waking him up is somewhere in his memories,' isn't that what Twilight said? If he only remembers some fast food, maybe it's a good thing I didn't find it. "It was a fungus," Twilight said, in answer to a question Trixie hadn't asked. "It grows in some types of grains. That bun he ate was contaminated." "Oh." Somehow, Trixie had expected it to be more dramatic. Maybe it was just the amount of trouble she'd had to go through because of it, but a bit of food poisoning seemed like a let-down. "It put him to sleep?" "It usually just makes ponies go numb for a few days. Spike's young enough that it knocked him out instead." She dropped her gaze to the ground, shuffling her wings nervously. "He would have woken up on his own by this afternoon." As if expecting this bit of news to make Trixie explode, Spike rushed to add that they were both grateful all the same and that they were sorry for taking up her time for nothing. Instead of screaming or running away or any of the other things Trixie really felt like doing, she just sat on her rump and laughed at the absurdity of it all. What else could she do? "If there's anything I can do to repay you, just name it," Twilight said. The laughter seemed to have taken her by surprise. "Do you know why I agreed to help you, Princess Twilight?" Trixie asked, once she had her breathing under control again. She didn't wait for an answer. "I thought it might make up for all the trouble I gave you in Ponyville. What kind of a reason is that?" "But I never—" "I know. That doesn't mean I didn't want to make it right. And then it turns out Trixie was doing all that for nothing." Twilight and Spike looked at the ground, ashamed. "If it means anything, I think you're a much better pony than you were in Ponyville," Spike said quietly. Trixie smiled. "You're right. And Trixie knows how you two can repay her." "Oh?" The old Trixie, the one who had traveled across Equestria to humiliate ponies and talk herself up, would have exploited a favor like this for her own gain. They all knew it. From the way Twilight looked up and smiled, it was obvious she agreed with Spike's assessment, even if she wouldn't say so. She didn't seem worried about what she might be asked to do; if anything, she looked proud. There was only one thing Trixie could demand that would make things right. It really was obvious. "The Great and Powerful Trixie has one more show tonight. The two of you will attend and witness feats of magic beyond imagining!" Trixie's words were punctuated with an explosion of confetti and a fanfare. As she dropped back to all fours, the most magnificent magician in Manehattan coughed and added, in a much quieter voice, "And, um, can I get your autograph?"