2. Into the City
“What did she do?” Princess Luna asked the moment she saw Fizzlepop with Trixie in tow, the former once again wearing her helmet and thus under the Night Guard glamor. The two unicorns had been heading towards the Princess’ offices, but instead ran into her a few hallways down. Officers Moonlight Smiles and Frolicsome Meadowlark, both pegasi, were in tow beside the Princess, the same enchantment that glamored Fizzlepop allowing her to see magically concealed name-plates on the peytrals of their armor.
Fizzlepop took a moment to glance to Trixie, making sure that the young mare’s horn wasn’t glowing – that she was talking to the real Princess and not another illusion. “Briefly impersonated you, your majesty,” she said as she made to kneel, though she’d barely bent knee before Luna waved off the motion, “in order to speed along recruiting one of your Night Guard for a trip into Canterlot. Given the circumstances, Captain Armet thought it best to confirm that you really were allowing her to leave the castle. If so, I was ordered to accompany her.”
Luna looked down to Trixie, eyes narrowing somewhat. “You impersonated me?”
Trixie shifted her weight from one hoof to another, visibly contemplating telling the complete truth verses bending it and trying to figure out what would least endanger her plans. “Oui, Princess,” she settled on at last. “Ah…Ah just didn’t want to wait. But Ah was gettin’ a guard like you said! Ah just wanted to practice mah magic an’ have a little fun.” She let out a long sigh, looking down at the floor. “Désolé, majesté.”
The Princess considered Trixie’s words, then looked to Fizzlepop. “And you were there?” She asked. When Fizzlepop nodded, Luna looked back to Trixie. “How long were they fooled?”
Trixie opened her mouth – probably to begin spinning a grand tale – but paused when she noticed Luna’s expression. “Not long,” she admitted, as Luna came up to her. “Just a few seconds, Ah think, Shining Armor not even that long…Ah still make you too tall, Princess, an’ your wings too big.”
Luna spared another glance at Fizzlepop, who nodded. “Hmm, we’ll need to step up your memory lessons, then,” the alicorn observed, even as she extended one wing and caught Trixie with it, pulling the young mare close. Trixie giggled, returning the hug with her forelegs. “You need to work on creating what is, not what you want to be.” She smiled a little. “Though I suppose I should take it as a compliment that you seem to imagine a more…iconic version of me than what I really am.”
Luna looked to Fizzlepop next, her smile not dropping. “And I’m glad that my apprentice’s desire to find some way to make everything a production at least is keeping my Night Guard on their hooves. Good work on noticing and preventing Trixie’s coup d’état before it could get off the ground, Officer Berrytwist.”
“Your majesty,” Fizzlepop returned, bowing slightly at the compliment. There was a standing order to the Night Guard that Trixie’s magical aptitude was to be helped along by the Night Guard informing the young unicorn of the flaws in her illusions when she was inevitably caught out. Given that Trixie had only begun to be able to create complex, realistic-looking illusions about a year ago, her progress was remarkable.
Or Fizzlepop assumed it was remarkable, though she had no personal experience to base it on. As Trixie continued to return the Princess’ hug – even as Luna lifted her leg up, trying lightly to shake the unicorn off, though she held on tight – Fizzlepop found herself suppressing a wince at a slight prick of phantom pain from her horn. She told herself that she shouldn’t be feeling jealous of the young mare…but there was a lot to be jealous of Trixie about.
Trixie at last fell from Luna’s leg, though she was instantly caught in the Princess’ horn-glow and set on the ground right-side up, giggling the whole time. Luna looked back to Fizzlepop. “Well. Provided nothing of importance was interrupted, then yes, Trixie has my blessing to leave the castle in your care, Officer Berrytwist.”
Fizzlepop bowed in acknowledgement, to which Luna offered a nod, then set off back to her offices with the other two Night Guard in tow. Only after she and they had turned a corner did Trixie trot up next to Fizzlepop and glance up. “Bien merci,” she whispered conspiratorially. “If you’d told Luna that Ah interrupted your review she might not a’ let me go.”
Fizzlepop felt her eyelids flutter at the words, looking down to Trixie. “I hadn’t realized that,” she said. “I suppose I should tell her – ”
“Non!” Trixie interrupted, diving in front of Fizzlepop before she could move. “Look, the Captain already put it on hold, an’ Shining Armor thought y’all needed a bit to go over things, oui? An’ you don’ want to be un rapporteuse, do ya?”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“A tattle-tale!” Trixie waved her own tail for emphasis. “Tanpri? S’il vous plaît? Per favore? Tafadhali?” She frowned. “Ah don’ know any more words for ‘please’. Oh! Except that one! Please?”
Fizzlepop let out a long sigh as she regarded the filly in front of her, weighing her duty with the fact that there was a little unicorn who seemed desperate to get out of the castle and see this show of hers. And besides, Captain Armet had left her with the distinct impression that the review – and its results – were a forgone conclusion. So it really wasn’t important, seen in that light…even if it was depressing.
She felt her head hang a little at that thought. If tonight really was going to end up being her last real night in the Guard, then she couldn’t bring herself to have it center on ruining a filly’s plans. Besides, it wasn’t like it’d look much better to catch up to the Princess and correct herself after just telling her that everything was fine. “Alright,” she allowed.
“Great!” Trixie exclaimed with a jump. “Ah’ll go get mah stuff! Meet you at the gate tout suite!” With that, she was off. Fizzlepop rolled her eyes, wondering where the filly got that much energy – where anypony did, for that matter. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had it herself…
Fizzlepop held a hoof in front of her eyes, staring at it as she sat a few dozen feet from the gates of Canterlot Castle. The tremor that Captain Armet had mentioned had faded out by now, leaving her foreleg to tremble only with the normal pulse of blood flowing through her hoof’s frog. The cool evening air had also managed to liven her senses and wake her up a little more. Another thing she didn’t miss from the Army was waking up at the crack of dawn – Princess Luna was, before anything else, the Shepherd of the Moon, and lived a fairly nocturnal existence. She went to sleep with the rise of the Sun and usually didn’t wake until after midday, and her Court and Night Guard naturally oriented itself around that schedule, and thus so too did the ponies of Canterlot even as the rest of Equestria remained diurnal.
Of course, the trade-off was that the city was constantly on the verge of running out of coffee, something that Fizzlepop wished she’d had more of at breakfast. Though it probably wouldn’t have done her tremors any favors…
Fizzlepop shook her head, trying to banish the thoughts of her impending transfer and/or discharge from her mind, and focus on her assignment. Fortunately Canterlot was a safe city, and the theater where Don Rocinante was playing, La Commedia della Luna, was only two tiers down the mountain from the castle, well clear of what passed for the rough neighborhoods. Trixie and Fizzlepop would be taking a carriage to the theater, and the carriage-ponies would be Castle Guards themselves. Two Castle Guards plus one Night Guard was more than sufficient protection for an outing like this.
A small, stupid part of Fizzlepop’s mind almost hoped that something would happen so that she could prove her worth, but that part of her brain was forced to sit in the corner by the rest of her psyche. A completely routine evening without surprises was what Fizzlepop really needed. Trixie was even looking forward to this enough that she would probably, maybe, hopefully keep herself in check and not cause a scene…
…Fizzlepop had glanced in the direction of the Castle as she’d thought that, and as such her hopes were instantly dashed. “What are you wearing?” She asked.
Trixie actually looked proud of the ensemble she had on, a purple wizard’s hat and matching high-collared cape, both studded with stars and looking too big on the filly. “Mah finest attire!” Trixie exclaimed with a flourish of her cape, and hiding half her face behind the gigantic, upturned collar. “Ah’m a magician, after all!”
“I thought Luna was training you to become a noble.”
“Oui. Ah can be both things! Who says Ah can’t?”
Fizzlepop tried to imagine any of the two hundred forty-three nobles of the Night Court performing magic tricks on a stage, but her mind drew a blank even when it pulled the small, stupid part out of the corner for help. “And you’re…going out like that?” Fizzlepop asked. “In public?”
Trixie didn’t miss Fizzlepop’s tone, and her eyes narrowed. “Just ‘cause I make the greatest an’ powerfulest illusions in Equestria don’t mean that Ah hide behind ‘em.” She closed her eyes and cast her nose in the air, trotting forward and past Fizzlepop in true Canterlot fashion. “Ah don’t ‘spect a Night Guard to get that, hidin’ behind a Nightmare Night costume all the time – an’ you gots more t’ hide than most.” One of Trixie’s eyes opened so she could stare at Fizzlepop’s horn. She’d seen her without the glamor, she knew that it was broken.
Fizzlepop felt heat surge through her body, and her horn sparked before she could stop herself, multihued flashes bursting forth and arching around the base of her horn. Trixie froze in her trot, both eyes open now and ears folded back. Fizzlepop advanced a step, looking down at the filly. “Are you going to make this a long night?” She asked.
“Non,” Trixie immediately answered, her voice small. She cleared her throat, and then looked back to Fizzlepop. “Ah – Ah mean, no. Désolé. Ah’m sorry.”
“Good. Let’s get moving.”
As much as she wanted to move immediately after saying that, it wouldn’t do to get moving without her charge for the night. Trixie took a moment more to compose herself, then set off, head hanging low as Fizzlepop matched her pace. “Ah’m sorry,” Trixie repeated. “Ah bet ya got that protectin’ Luna, oui? Some anarchist threw a bomb, and you jumped in front an’ grabbed it an’ tried to throw it away, but the feedback…”
Fizzlepop grit her teeth as they reached the gate. “That wasn’t what happened,” she said.
Trixie perked up at that. “Oh?” She asked, head tilting to the side. “Hmm…”
Fizzlepop did not like the sound of that, but they had reached the gate, and a carriage was already outside and waiting for them. Taking in a deep breath, Fizzlepop left the gate first, eyes sweeping left, right, and forward, looking for any sign of anything out of the ordinary. At this time of the evening, the streets in front of the castle were fairly crowded, pages and courtiers and nobles moving back and forth between Canterlot Castle and the city in a constant stream, as well as civilians going about their normal evening of hustling to and fro – working, playing, living.
She didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and so Fizzlepop stepped aside to allow Trixie to advance to the carriage. One of the Castle Guard hadn’t hooked himself up to it yet and was waiting for her, opening the door to let the filly in. She struggled a little to get the full length of her cape in after her, and the guard cast a knowing, resigned look at Fizzlepop. Training prevented her from returning it, but only just as she climbed in after Trixie and settled down.
They were off as soon as the Castle Guard fastened himself to the harness of the carriage. Trixie kept the curtains of the carriage’s doors pulled back so that they could see the city of Canterlot and the ponies in it as they passed by. Two years of training in the Night Guard made Fizzlepop a little nervous at that, since it meant that any potential threat would have an easier time seeing Trixie…but with this trip being last-minute and Trixie not really being a high-priority target, the threat was even less than minimal.
“Can Ah see your face again, please?” Trixie asked after several minutes of silence. “Your real face, tanpri.”
“No,” Fizzlepop answered immediately. “I’m on-duty.”
“What if Ah ordered you?”
“You can’t. You don’t have any authority over the Guard.” Fizzlepop couldn’t stop herself from smiling in relief at that. When Trixie had first come to Canterlot there had been some concern throughout the city and beyond as to what that meant for the Crown and the line of secession and so on (especially as Trixie’s rather forceful personality had become general knowledge), until Luna had made it clear that Trixie had not been adopted – she still had a loving family back in Neigh Orleans, after all – nor was she being given any official power or authority at the moment. While the intent was to groom her into a noble pony and have her join the Night Court, she was not a noble pony yet, and in any event would never be given a position of power over the affairs of Equestria as a whole.
The whole country had breathed a collective sigh of relief at that. The idea of Trixie Lulamoon with any real authority or power over anypony was unsettling, to say the least.
Trixie, however, looked like she thought Fizzlepop’s grin was meant to be teasing. “Mais, you’re supposed to guard me. What if Ah said that Ah’d run out a’ the carriage unless you took off your helmet? Then you’d have to do it ‘less you wanna risk losin’ me in Canterlot.”
“Or,” Fizzlepop countered, “I could remind you that nowhere in my orders does it say that you have to be conscious during the play.”
Trixie’s jaw dropped and eyes widened. Fizzlepop took a moment to wonder how the Princess would react to Fizzlepop threatening her apprentice…given the context, probably with mirth, to be honest. Of all ponies, Princess Luna certainly knew how hard Trixie was to deal with the best. Trixie herself seemed to realize this as well as she turned from Fizzlepop, grumbling to herself in Prench.
Fizzlepop suppressed a sigh as she looked out a window, scanning the ponies outside but finding nothing to interrupt her thoughts…because, on the other hoof, even if the Princess did take offense, would it really matter? Discharged by Opal Armet because the Captain didn’t understand Fizzlepop’s need to prove her worth, discharged by the Princess for threatening her apprentice…ether way after tonight her career in the Night Guard was over. So what difference did it make?
Well, mostly the former was likely to have her transferred back to the Army with her previous rank and pay reinstated, while the latter was rather more likely to result in her banishment to the Griffin Kingdoms with all the other political detritus of Equestria.
Fizzlepop’s thoughts were interrupted by a subtle pinkish-blue glow from Trixie’s side of the carriage. Glancing over, she saw Trixie weaving an illusion in front of her, a pony’s head. As she watched, the illusion took on more distinct features – a deep purple coat, brighter pinkish mane, turquoise eyes, and a unicorn’s horn, Trixie’s hooves moving as though she were literally sculpting the trick of light.
Despite the coloration, it took Fizzlepop a moment to realize that she was looking at an illusory bust of herself. The muzzle was a little too long and the eyes too large and too far apart, and the ears a little too long. And, of course, there was an intact horn. Still, it was a pretty good facsimile of a face that Trixie had seen only briefly. Fizzlepop was about to comment on it when Trixie used a hoof to draw in the scar that ran across Fizzlepop’s right eye, then paused as she looked at the intact unicorn horn. She glanced over to Fizzlepop, and noticed the Night Guard staring at her.
Trixie glanced between her illusion and Fizzlepop a few times. “Did you get your scar at the same time your horn broke?” She asked.
Fizzlepop’s eyes narrowed, even as her ears flicked from the low roar she heard in the back of her mind. “Get rid of that,” she said, nodding towards the illusion. Much to her surprise, Trixie actually complied, the illusion disappearing into pinkish-blue mist.
“Trainin’ accident,” Trixie said.
“What?”
“Ah heard that when a new batch a’ recruits to the Night Guard join up, Luna gets y’all together an’ has a cannon fired at her three times. She dodges the first cannon ball, then catches the second, then lets the third hit her. It’s supposed t’ show y’all that she don’t really need protectin’ so as y’all learn real quick that y’all are supposed to protect the ponies around Luna, since anythin’ that could really hurt her is gonna put a lot a’ innocent ponies at risk.”
Fizzlepop blinked a few times as she took that in. “Who told you that?” She asked.
“Luna. Anyway, is that what happened? Luna missed or didn’ know you was behind her an’ that’s how your horn broke?”
The Night Guard wasn’t exactly sure where to begin. The idea was absurd enough to break through even what had been her building anger at Trixie. “Princess Luna doesn’t have cannons shot at her,” she decided upon at last.
Trixie’s eyes went wide. “The Princess lied to me?” She asked, then added “again?”
“I’m afraid so. And no, it wasn’t a training accident. Stop asking.”
“Can Ah see your face so’s at least next time Ah make it Ah can get it right?”
“No.”
Trixie threw up her hooves and let out a groan. She glanced out the window, and saw that they hadn’t even left the top tier of Canterlot yet. They still had two entire tiers of travel and traffic before they reached the theater. She took off her hat, stuck her hoof inside, and then pulled out a deck of cards and started shuffling them, then held them forth to Fizzlepop. “Pick a card.”
“No. I know this trick. No matter what card I pick you’ll be able to pull it out from behind my ear or under my seat or something.” Fizzlepop looked back out the carriage window. Canterlot had a high population of unicorns, and she saw a couple and their colt at an outdoor café, having...honestly given the flow of Canterlot’s day it could have been breakfast, lunch, or dinner. The colt was practicing his telekinesis, a green glow that stuttered but held firm as he levitated a pastry into his mouth.
Fizzlepop turned away with a grunt, and found Trixie staring at her. “What?” She asked.
“Look under your seat.”
“I didn’t pick a card.”
“Ah know.”
Fizzlepop rolled her eyes, but decided that if they had to pass the time in any way, the filly doing amateur magic tricks was probably the least vexing. She moved to the other side of the carriage so that she could see under her own seat better, Trixie making room for her. But when she looked, she saw nothing at all, even as she leaned closer. “You’re making it invisible.”
“Mah horn ain’t glowin’.”
“So then it’s going to be revealed to be in my armor or something, right?” She patted herself down.
“Nope.”
Fizzlepop grunted as she moved back to her side of the carriage. “Well you had me move for some reason,” she said, scratching at an itch on her neck. Her hoof touched something unfamiliar as she did, and she hesitated a moment before grunting and drawing out a card that had been tucked beneath her helmet’s neck-guard. It was the two of hearts. “Very impressive,” she droned, as another card fell from her helmet, loosened by the first one having been removed. Then another fell... then another...
“How many did you...?” Fizzlepop asked, a bit of genuine mirth in her voice as a fourth card fell from her helmet. She took it off to glance inside, finding two more cards stuck in there...and then froze. She raised her no-longer-glamored eyes to Trixie.
The filly had her front hooves raised, framing Fizzlepop’s true face as she took in the details. “You ever think a’ changin’ your name?” She asked. “Some ponies do when they get their cutie marks or new jobs. Since you in the guard you ever think a’ somethin’ like...Dusky Storm? Nah...ooh! Tempest Shadow. It suits you. Oh, and Ah win.”
Fizzlepop put her helmet back on, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Trixie?”
“Oui?”
“Step out of line one more time and you will go back to Princess Luna in a BODY BAG!”
Fizzlepop’s outburst ended with her leaping forward and pinning her hooves against the carriage’s wall, looming over the filly with her lips pulled back in a snarl exposing glamored fangs, and her illusory slit eyes wide open. Trixie had fallen backwards, frozen in fear for a few seconds before nodding vigorously. “Oui! Oui! Oui! Désolé! Mo chagren! Ah’ll behave!”
“Good.”
Fizzlepop fell back into her seat, breathing heavily from the outburst. She felt tremors along her muscles...adrenaline pumping, though it shouldn’t have been causing her limbs to shake. Maybe Armet had a point...a thought which just further soured her mood as she closed her eyes and breathed, trying to will herself to calm down, reminding herself that Trixie was just a filly half her age and shouldn’t be riling her up so. It was like her special talent was pushing buttons or something...
Finally, the tremors died down...just as she heard a whimper from the other side of the carriage. A part of her mind felt satisfied by the sound...and the rest of her felt disgusted at that part of her. Fizzlepop suppressed a groan as she opened her eyes and looked to Trixie. The filly was hunkered down, almost using her too-long cape as a shield, and flinched when her eyes met Fizzlepop’s.
They stared at each other in silence for several long moments, before Fizzlepop finally let out a long sigh, looking down. After a few moments of consideration, she took her helmet back off and looked back to Trixie with her real face. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Trixie’s only response was another whimper. It cut into Fizzlepop like a knife. She glanced out a window, saw they had at last made their way down to the second tier of Canterlot city, then looked back to Trixie. “What time is the play at?”
“Eight o’clock!” Trixie answered instantly, then somehow curled in even more on herself, obviously hoping that the answer wouldn’t anger Fizzlepop further.
A glance out at the sky showed that it was probably around seven o’clock...plenty of time even with the traffic. Fizzlepop slipped her helmet back on and then leaned out the window. “Slight change of plans,” she called to the Castle Guard pulling the carriage. “Find the nearest café...or preferably ice cream shop.”
The closer guard looked to her with a raised eyebrow. “That bad?” He asked. He’d probably heard Fizzlepop’s outburst...him and half of Canterlot. She knew she had quite the set of lungs on her. “You can’t say she doesn’t deserve it.”
Fizzlepop’s eyes narrowed at that. “No she didn’t,” she countered as she came back in to the carriage. She found Trixie looking at her with confusion now mixed in to the abject terror in her eyes. “I’m buying you...something with sugar in it. Depends on where we stop. Root beer float, if I can help it.” They always helped Fizzlepop feel better, at least.
Trixie swallowed, but unfolded a little. Her hooves played with the edges of her cape for several long, quiet minutes before she finally spoke up. “Hot sauce.”
“Pardon?”
“Ah’d like it to have some hot sauce in it. S’il vous plaît.”
“...what?”
Fizzlepop stared across the carriage at the red swirls staining what otherwise would have been a perfectly normal chocolate root beer float. In a sane world, the red might have been cherry, or perhaps strawberry flavoring. Alas, the world was not sane. Even from here Fizzlepop’s nostrils pricked at the scent of hot sauce coming from Trixie’s cup.
A younger and more innocent part of Fizzlepop was indignant at the ruination of what had once been a root beer float, but the mature adult in her instead focused on the fact that Trixie seemed to have calmed down, at least. She sipped at her float thoughtfully as she stared at Fizzlepop, who had her own float topped with a generous helping of berries of different varieties in her own hooves. They’d managed to make a stop, pick up their drinks, and get back under way in record time, and had traversed the entire second tier in silence. They were now in the third tier of Canterlot, closing in on the theater.
“Ah’m...Ah’m sorry,” Trixie said at length around her straw. She removed it from her mouth and stared down at her float, held in her hooves. “Ah’m not a good pony.”
“You’re a filly,” Fizzlepop countered. She’d taken her helmet off and set it beside her in the carriage. “Kids...can be cruel without meaning it.” Something she knew from personal experience. She looked down at her own float, and couldn’t stop herself from using her straw to blow a bubble in it, watching it expand before popping open. Some of it got on her muzzle; she licked it off, even as she scratched an errant flank-itch “The day I lost my horn was the worst day of my life, Trixie. I don’t like to think about it, or talk about it...but I should have been clearer about that from the start.”
“Ah shoulda’ noticed,” Trixie said. “Ah won’t ask no more.”
“Thank you.”
Trixie fidgeted a little. “What was the best day?” She asked.
Fizzlepop had blown another bubble in her root beer. As it popped, she briefly considered her cutie mark story, but found herself shaking her head. “The day I met Shining Armor,” she said. “Commander Armor. Though back then he was Officer Armor.”
Trixie shifted, suddenly looking a little green in he face for some reason. “Are you an’ he...” she trailed off, taking her float into her telekinesis so that she could lightly tap her hooves together.
Fizzlepop sputtered, causing quite a few bubbles to swell in her float and a few of the berries in it to spill out. “No!” She objected once she could breathe properly again. “I...I mean, not that he isn’t attractive...but no. Not like that. Besides, he prefers older mares.”
Trixie breathed out a sigh of relief as she grabbed her float in her hooves again. “What happened with you an’ him, then? Tanpri?”
Fizzlepop chuckled a little as she glanced out the window. “Among other things, I threw a rock at his head,” she said, prompting a confused head-tilt from Trixie, “but I think the story will have to wait. We’re here.”
Trixie’s eyes lit up at that as she glanced out the window, and saw that Fizzlepop was right. She plucked the straw from her root beer and downed the contents directly as quickly as she could, wincing mightily at the resultant brain freeze but shaking it off with the power of youthful exuberance. “We gotta go!” She said, grabbing her hat and producing a sheet of paper from it — not a ticket, but rather permission from the Princess to use her reserved-in-perpetuity box.
Fizzlepop finished her own float off somewhat slower (to Trixie’s excited annoyance), though she did ditch the straw so she could enjoy the semi-frozen berries and the crackles they and the carbonated soda made as she swallowed them. Then she slipped her helmet back on and opened the door facing La Commedia della Luna. The carriage had pulled right up to the entrance, and many ponies outside had looked to see who from the castle had arrived. More than a few had curious eyebrows raise when they spotted Trixie, either not recognizing her or not being very familiar with her yet the way Canterlot Castle’s servants and staff had become.
Fizzlepop’s own eyes narrowed at the stares of several nobles she recognized who eyed Trixie particularly closely. Commoners ascending into the nobility was hardly unheard of in Equestria, but doing so under Luna’s personal tutelage was certainly novel...and something those nobles saw as a potential avenue towards the Princess. Trixie may not have been adopted, but surely she had the Princess’ ear in her own way. If she said the right words, perhaps on the perfectly innocent advice or after “overhearing” the concerns of this duke or that marquess...
Fortunately tall, muscled mares with fangs and the slit eyes of a dragon tended to win staring contests pretty easily. Those nobles whose eyes lingered too long on Trixie quickly found themselves looking at Fizzlepop instead, and even more quickly thereafter found something more interesting to look at.
Satisfied that nopony was going to be stupid enough to make a move, Fizzlepop trotted up to the Castle Guard. “The show is four hours total,” she said, and couldn’t help but smile. “Did you pack a lunch?”
One of the guards returned the grin. “There’s a sandwich shop just down the road, that’s where we usually go. I’ll pick something up and we’ll eat in the carriage. This isn’t our first rodeo, bats.”
“Maybe a couple of floats since you didn’t pick anything up for us,” the other Castle Guard added.
Fizzlepop took the friendly inter-service barbs with practiced stride, “bats” hardly even being pejorative since if one couldn’t cope with looking like one had crawled from the pages of a pulp horror story, one didn’t last long in the Night Guard. She had a few good ones herself about how the Castle Guard armor made them look a little like fish, but she decided to keep them to herself tonight. “Okay. See you at midnight, boys.”
The two Castle Guard nodded, and Fizzlepop came back over to the carriage door. She was almost surprised to find that Trixie, despite her excitement, had managed to remain inside the carriage and wait for her escort. “All right, come on,” she said, offering a hoof to help Trixie down. The filly was a bit too eager, however, ignoring the hoof and hopping down to the ground directly, though she pranced in place rather than running off, at least until she noticed Fizzlepop staring at her. She giggled a little. “Mo chagren,” she apologized. “Ah’m just so excited! Don Rocinante is mah favorite book, an’ this is a musical play of it!”
“It’s fine,” Fizzlepop said, as she started trotting, Trixie keeping pace. “Just don’t leave my side, and behave yourself. Okay?”
“Oui! Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop — “
“Trixie Lulamoon! There you are!”
Trixie and Fizzlepop both froze and snapped their heads in the direction of the voice at the same time, Fizzlepop stepping closer to Trixie. She found herself looking at two earth ponies, a mare and a stallion, both wearing uniforms that consisted of rust-red colored light armor over blue livery depicting the stylized image of a pegasus, a unicorn, and an earth pony trotting around the outside of a ring.
But it was the blond-maned, white-coated unicorn colt who looked about Trixie’s age, standing between his two bodyguards, that Trixie reacted to. “Oh, aborder,” she mumbled, barely loud enough for Fizzlepop to hear.
The colt must have misheard what Fizzlepop was certain was a Neigh Orleanean swear, as he smiled brightly, flashing pearly white teeth. “Bonjour to you as well, Trixie,” said Prince Blueblood.
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Something every illusionist must learn, some more than others.
Years later, on the Astral Plane...
"Well, " said Luna. "Under one hoof, I'm immensely proud of you. Under another, this is going to be... complicated."
In happier circumstances, what might have been...
In any case, looks like there will be some preshow entertainment, involving at least one clown. This should be good...
Very nice. I do hope these two remain friends at the end of the story. As for Blueblood? Eh, I've softened on him. I'd rather deal with him at his canonical worst, than Discord at his canonical best.
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Plus this is Lunaverse Blueblood, who we know will eventually try and become a better pony thanks to his special somepony.
Well, this isn't good.
I'm already developing my own headcanon for these two.
Well Trixie's got the misdirection down pat, 'tis an important facet of illusions that.
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...you just had to go and remind of that shipwreck born of what should have just been a one off gag. Everyone else seems to like it though, so I'll make no further fuss of the matter here
I'll just be sulking over it in my lonely corner if any one needs me.
Anyway, as for the actual chapter at hand, this was very enjoyable. Young Trixie continues to have a great ballance of enthusiastic naivete while still showing the early signs of the ego she's notorious for. Likewise, Fizzlepop feels just about right for a version of herself that never went into exile, but still otherwise carries some scars of resentment over her unfortunate circumstances all the same. I like how the two of them have been bouncing off each other so far.
Also, despite my opinions of Blueblood's future character development, I am still excited to see how things proceed in the next chapter of this story with him in the mix.
Hmm... this is your 2nd story in a row where you let young Trixie face young Blue Blood. Since she knows him this has to be placed after the sandbox incident correct?
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Yup. That will come up.
I believe "bien merci" should be 'merci bien' or' (un) grand merci,' unless it's actually correct in the French of Louisiana. My absolute lack of knowledge about Creole would explain why I've stared so long at "un cancan de fées," too. The images in my head as I tried to reconcile fairies dancing the cancan with 'fairytale gossip' were entertaining, at least.
(Although it just looks like a translation algorithm being a little too literal to me, to be honest. If that's the case, 'rapporteuse', 'cafteuse' or 'moucharde' are better translations for a telltale. New Orleans probably has its own creative name for them as well.)
I'm also looking at "mo chagren" and "aborder" but, again, I don't know Creole.
Interesting that Luna pronounced "coup d'état" the Prench way. She enjoyed Trixie's little trick, no doubt about it.
Trixie still strikes me as not even have started puberty, incidentally, as opposed to "not quite a filly but not really a mare yet either" as she was described in the previous chapter. The cute part where Luna tried to shake her off her hoof as Trixie returned her wing hug is the main reason for that. Fizzlepop describing her as "a small foal" in the same paragraph was closer to a confirmation, and leaves me quite puzzled about the line I mentioned earlier.
That didn't prevent me from enjoying Fizzlepop scaring her out her wits, though. Luna is training Trixie to become a noble, no doubt about that. She didn't get her way with polite requests, orders or blackmail, so she resorts to manipulation instead. Yes, a future noble of the finest caliber, not a single shred of doubt about that.
Fizzlepop's not all hard edges, though. She did endeavor to use what she believes to be her last day as a Night Guard to make a small filly happy (even if Trixie makes that very difficult). And she did tell that Castle Guard to shut it or else when I'm more inclined to agree with him.
Going back to Trixie, I liked the imagery of her weaving her illusion in the carriage as a potter would mold clay. And I agree with her, Tempest Shadow suits her more than that mouthful of a name.
I'll admit I'm worried about Blueblood's sudden appearance. I know there's a group specifically to go against that flow, but the fandom has portrayed him as a brat for years, especially when he's written younger than in the show, for reasons I consider petty and flimsy at best. I'm intrigued that he (apparently) can speak Prench as well, but I'm not looking forward to another bratty Blueblood if things go that way.
Unlike in the previous chapter, there was nothing I found unnecessary or remotely close to jarring when it comes to the exposition. Except maybe the part about "the friendly inter-service barb."
I found one debatable typo;
tout de suite (unless you wanted her to not even bother using all the words in her hurry or, again, 'colony' French as opposed to mainland French)
Finally, I liked these lines;
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In Creole slang, “thank you” is typically written out as byen mersi. My intent with the correct spelling but wrong word order (for proper French) was to show that Trixie’s still got a more Cajun way of speaking French, but is also more understandable then she used to be. Also just the Cajun spelling of it bothers me.
Mo chagren is just straight Cajun slang, as is aborder and tanpri. This is the word list I use for Creole, though aborder was from a Google search for Cajun cusses. Literally it means “to bump into”, but here it refers to a...specific kind of bumping.
As for cancans de fées (I misspelled it above and am going to correct it now)...I actually thought that was the French term for “tattle-tale”. I’d looked it up years ago for my story Magic Tutor when Trixie was complaining about a cousin of hers. Must have gotten a bad translation or something, which is a bit unfortunate as I’d actually rather liked the idea that the French term was basically “fairy gossip”. Google is telling me that cancans is the translation for “tattle”, though.
I don’t know if I’ve said this yet, but I actually can only speak and read/write two languages: English and Bad English (though I can sort-of stumble through very simple Spanish and read a little Latin). Everything else is always provided by Google Translate. Although that being said Luna used the French coup d’état not because of Trixie, but because that’s just how I always write it out. I also always write “naïve” with an umlaut, and otherwise like to include letter marks when writing. It makes me feel sophisticated.
Oh, lastly, using tout suite instead of the English “toot sweet” or French tout de suite was meant to be the same sort of thing as what I did with byen mersi/bien merci/merci bien. Her accent is all over the place at the moment thanks to three years in Canterlot mixing with her formative years in the bayou, so in some ways I’m trying to be be deliberately difficult. That’s also why I try to have her use mo chagren with more casual apologies and désolé with more formal ones. Ditto tanpri verses s’il vous plaît.
Yeah, I’d worried that as soon as I put in the shaking-Trixie-off thing that I might have misstepped there. I might edit it a bit, since I wanted to show Trixie and Luna actually getting along...a lot of their interaction in the Lunaverse tends to involve Trixie annoyed with Luna or vice-versa, so I wanted something more casual and comfortable. But at the same time, yeah, it does make her come across as young. For the most part I try to avoid giving exact ages like the plague in the Lunaverse, but in this story I see Trixie as being something to the tune of 12-14. Like, a bratty 12-14, but that range. Or at least that’s what I want to aim for.
You have this amazing ability of not making your main characters too likable.
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In a good way, or...? Because I do try to balance merits and flaws when I can. Also Trixie's definitely supposed to have crossed a line there, what she said isn't okay even if she thought it was okay to get back at Fizzlepop questioning her fashion choices.
Reading this, I had such a weird realization that the canonical Luna has an even weirder palate than what you've written Trixie for years.
https://m.Then we got the mint, fudge and chili cupcakes.
Interesting AU. Hope to see where this goes and read the rest of this universe.
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I meant that as a compliment. Not many have that capability, fewer can rewardingly pull it off to this extent.
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Thanks for the reply and information.
Cancans is indeed one of the translations for the 'gossip' definition of the word "tattle," along others like potins, ragots and commérages, all of which are usually used as plural although the words do exist without the ending 's.'
It's possible that this is slang in some French-speaking region or another, but a quick check on Google shows me that the only places where cancans de fées is used are: this fanfiction, two wrong word-for-word translations of Gordon Lightfoot's song The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, and a maybe-copyrighted thingamajig for archery. And as I mentioned, this sounds very much like a translation algorithm taking things too literally and going word by word.
I obviously have an easier time making sure a specific translation is precisely the one I want by checking Wiktionary.org, but WordReference.com is the site I use when I write anything in English. It has not failed me yet, and comes with a forum for the words that aren't in the dictionaries' libraries.
I was referring to the italics, not to the spelling. The context and Luna's character made it easy for me to assume she was poking fun at Trixie by saying that word the Prench way.
Trixie could simply be comfortable enough with her mentor, and have enough good memories of growing up around her, that she becomes a little more childish when Luna shows her affection for her. Then, the question becomes 'why did Fizzlepop call her a small foal?'
Perhaps she meant to think "there was a lot to be jealous of Trixie about" ever since Trixie was a small foal, but that's not what I'm gathering from the narration itself. Fizzlepop appears to deem Trixie a small foal right now. It's possible she can't gauge someone's age and can't tell on which side of the puberty fence a young pony stands, but then the narration should mention that, whether in-character or not.
Could be fun down the line too, what with her line about Shining Armor 'preferring older mares.' "I will have you know that [Fleur Dis Lee/Octavia/Sunset/Starlight/whatever nobody cares] is two years younger than you." "She is!?"
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Sorry this took awhile to get back to! Sunday is my IRL nonsense with friends day. Played D&D and then saw IT: Chapter Two. Good movie, if you're curious - not as good as IT: Chapter One, but that's a really high bar so we won't hold that against Pennywise.
Anyway, I went with rapporteuse for "tattle-tale", then. Still kind of sad; like I said, I liked the metaphor, but not quite enough to push it. I'll probably go back and edit it in Magic Tutor as well.
Huh, hadn't actually considered that. Still, that would be in-character for Luna anyway, so we'll say it could easily have been that as well.
Oh, I also edited Fizzlepop's internal musing about Trixie from "small foal" to "young mare" to hopefully remove the impression that Trixie is prepubescent. Among other things given the content of some of the darker parts of Don Rocinante - which is of course being modeled on the play Man of La Mancha - it's not something I'd want a too-young kid to see. Although these are ponies so it probably doesn't get quite as dark as the actual Man of La Mancha does in the middle with what happens to Aldonza during "The Abduction", but even still.
Wait, does that mean civillians cannot identify guards in cases of abuse of power?