• Published 15th Feb 2020
  • 3,224 Views, 154 Comments

Resting Witch Face - Aragon

Trixie and Starlight discover witchcraft is real, and do the obvious thing about it.

  • ...

Lovely Ladies

Starlight witnessed reality warping itself inside out, and then she went: “Oh my gosh.”

But like, in a good way.

And then she came out of the bed and beamed at Trixie, holding something up. “Look what I found!”

Trixie looked. “Is that a kite.”

“It’s my favorite kite!”

Trixie looked again. It was kite-shaped, which is entirely expected when talking about a kite, but still kind of boring. No ornaments, no decoration. Dull shade of green. If that kite had been music, it would’ve been played in elevators. If it had been a pony, it would’ve been Spike.

So Trixie smiled. “Right. It’s very pretty. No wonder it’s your favorite.”

“I know! It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Starlight got up, patted the dust off her mane and back, and then looked at the kite with shining eyes. “Spike gave it to me as a gift when I first moved in here.”

“Would’ve never guessed.”

“And I thought I’d lost it! I’ve no idea how it ended up under the bed. Maybe it fell from the wall?” Starlight caressed the kite with a love that bordered on eroticism, then looked at Trixie. “Thank you so much! Did you want me to find it?”

Trixie put on the kind of smile that explained why she’d made a living out of showmanship. “Well,” she said. “Not, uh, quite. I was hoping you’d find some treasure.”

“I mean, I really love this kite.”

“Aren’t you adorable.

“Thank you!”

Trixie chose not to add anything else. Because Starlight really was adorable, Trixie liked her a lot, and sometimes you genuinely need to pick your battles.

It was the third day after the defeat of the Rat King, and it was time to clean around the corners.

The place was Starlight’s room, but it was in Twilight’s Castle, so the walls were purple crystal, all sharp edges and hard turns. The bed was small and wooden-framed, comfortable only if you romanticise back pain, and there was a small desk, and two small chairs, and kites hung on the walls.

So it was cozy, because it smelled like Starlight, but it was oppressive, because it felt like Twilight.

“I can’t believe it took me this long to look under my own bed.” Starlight hummed then flashed her horn and hung the kite in its rightful place—right above her bedframe. “So did you do anything special? To make me find the kite, I mean.”

Trixie was sitting on Starlight’s bed, holding a book. Neither of them were cleaning. “Not really?”

Starlight flashed her horn, and a little notebook and quill appeared in front of her. She opened the one and got the other ready. “Right. Were you thinking about something in particular when you asked me to look under the bed, or…?”

Trixie arched an eyebrow. “Why would I need to do that?”

“I don’t know. To suggest something useful?”

“Why would I need to do that?”

Starlight frowned. She looked at Trixie, then at the notebook, then at Trixie again. “Hold on. Is that a witch thing, or is it a Trixie thing?”

Trixie sat up, her back a little more straight, and then tilted her head to the side. “Are you genuinely asking me if I think before I speak?”


“You know what, yeah, that was a dumb question. Sorry, my bad.” Starlight nodded, and then scribbled some words on the notebook. “Still, good to know you don’t need to do that to be a witch! You really were born for this, it’s uncanny.”

“I know, right? This,” Trixie leaned backwards, waved at her entire body, “is all talent. Do you actually think before you speak?”

“Hmmm.” Starlight poked her chin with the quill, and then scribbled some more. “Exhaustively.”

“It doesn’t show at all.”

“I know.” Starlight looked up from her notebook, and looked at Trixie. “And I’m taking that as a compliment, because I assume you mean I must think very fast?

Trixie frowned. “What else would I mean?”

And Starlight closed the notebook, and smiled at Trixie. “You’re adorable,” she said.

“Oh. Thanks! That’s very nice of you to say.”

“I know.” Starlight sighed, and turned a page on the notebook. “So why did you tell me to look under the bed? Because this was witchcraft, right? We can both agree on that.”

Trixie groaned, and then jumped off the bed. “I guess?” she said, looking at the kite on the wall, and then at the space under the bed. “I didn’t really do anything.”

“You found my kite.”

“Because you asked me to do witchcraft! And I wanted to find some treasure, I guess. I don’t know, the bed was just there. I didn’t want to go down to the garden and start digging.” Trixie kicked the bed lightly, just enough to nudge it a little. “And I was expecting diamonds.”

“I don’t know why I would have diamonds under my bed. I guess Spike could use it to hide some snacks? Bit of a stretch.” Starlight shrugged. “The kite makes more sense. It’s always been there, but you’re the one who told me to look.” Then she opened the notebook again, scribbled some more, and closed it. “Still! You wanted there to be witchcraft, and so there was witchcraft, but you couldn’t get the specifics. That’s good to know.”

Trixie was looking at Starlight. “Does the dragon actually eat diamonds.”


“Actual diamonds?”


“That’s so decadent.”

“And Sugarcube Corner sells sapphire milkshakes! I think Ponyville genuinely doesn’t understand the value of money.” Starlight nodded at Trixie. “Try it again! Maybe focus harder on what you want?”

Trixie frowned. She looked around the room, and her eyes settled on the bedside table. “Okay. There’s a pile of gold coins in there.”

Starlight followed Trixie’s glare. “What? In the drawer?”

“Sure. Split it, half each?”

“Why would I have gold in there.”

“To go halvsies with me.”

“I—? I guess?” Starlight trotted to the drawer, all the while looking at Trixie. “Why are you obsessed with finding money, anyway?”

Trixie waved a hoof. “I live in a wagon.”

Starlight snorted, and then opened the drawer. No gold. Just some tissues, a photograph of Trixie and Starlight hugging, two half-read books, sleeping pills, and a pen. “I thought you loved your wagon? Also, there’s no money here.”

“I do love my wagon!” Trixie placed a hoof against her chest, offended. “It’s a great wagon! But we both agree it’s a bit too small, don’t we? I could get a second one, or some other place to sleep. Do you like your room?”

“I do. And there’s no money here, Trixie.”

Trixie frowned and looked around the room again. “You shouldn’t like it. It’s way too small.”

Starlight rolled her eyes. “I know, I know.”

“I love what you did with it!” Trixie pointed at the kites on the walls. They looked terrible. “These look great!” No irony in her voice, or her eyes. “You’re great at decorating.”

“Trixie, you’ve told me this a million times already, and.” Starlight turned around slightly, so that Trixie could see the drawer, and pointed at it. “There’s no pile of gold here. Can we focus.”

“But you can only do so much with a room given to you by Princess Twilight.” Trixie clicked her tongue, and then shook her head, and trotted to the drawer. “So!” All smiles again, looking at Starlight. “No money.”

“No money.”

Trixie pointed. “Are those the books I bought you for your birthday?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Starlight smirked. “Are you going to ask me if I treasure them?”

“You do?”

“I do.”

Trixie smirked back. “Of course you do.”

“Show-off.” Starlight giggled, and went back to her notebook. “No money, but a—well, a treasure of mine, I suppose, but you specifically asked for gold coins, so… Did you try to do anything special when you asked me to look here?”

Trixie thought about it. “I guess I was hoping to find some money? I don’t know how to tell you I don’t think about the things I say. I’ve no idea why I do anything.”

Starlight giggled, and then opened the notebook again and wrote some more. “Well, I appreciate your consistency. Makes it easier on me, at least.”

“So why is there no money here?” Trixie looked inside the drawer, rummaged through it a little. “Does witchcraft only work sometimes, or…?”

Starlight shook her head. “I don’t know. But, I mean, I open this drawer every morning. I knew there wasn’t any money. Witchcraft means whatever you want has already been there, right?” Scribbled some more. “It makes more sense if we’re not sure what we’re going to find. What’s behind that door?”

Trixie’s ears perked up, and she turned around to reply—and then shut her mouth. She leaned towards Starlight and looked at the notebook. “What are you writing anyway.”

Starlight didn’t look up, but she tilted the notebook to the side, so Trixie could read it. “You know everything I’m saying?”


“That. I’m writing that.”

“You can write and talk at the same time?”

“And I think about everything, on top of it all.”

Trixie looked at Starlight. “Wow. You’re great at this.”

“I have to, or you’d be too good for me.” Starlight tapped the quill on the notebook, and pointed at the door. It was closed. “What’s behind that door? Spike has been moving stuff around all morning, and we haven’t looked in hours. Might be anything.”

Trixie looked. Frowned. “Jewels? A pile of gemstones. Split it in half?”

Starlight looked at Trixie.

And Trixie frowned. “What. Come on, at least one diamond. One real, actual gemstone? I’m sure that’s not too much to ask for. Split it in half?”

Starlight did one of those sighs that sounded a little like laughter, and then put the notebook down and went for the door. She was still half-smirking, but truth is, she was a bit nervous about it. There’s something about witchcraft, it never makes you not jittery. Behind her, Trixie leaned forward, eyes shining.

Starlight opened the door.

Her own face greeted her at the other side.

A big round mirror, turns out. Spike had been moving furniture around, that’s what thorough cleaning looks like, and the round mirror from the hallway was sitting on the wall in front of Starlight’s room.

So Starlight blinked. “One real gemstone,” she said, looking at her own face. And then she smiled, really really wide. “A real gem! And it’s me! Aaaaw.” She giggled, and looked around to look at Trixie. Ears perked up, tail wagging. “You’re so sweet! Thank you!”

Trixie frowned, and walked to the door to look, too. “Oh. Oh, huh.”

Show-off.” Starlight giggled again, and then pawed at Trixie’s mane. “Were you actually trying to flatter me?.”

Trixie immediately gave Starlight a winning smile. A smirk coated in silver. Eyebrow waggling. “Well, you know,“ she said.

“Not in the slightest, I take.”

“I really want some money! How is it this hard to get any?”

“Oh, well.” Starlight winked at Trixie. “I’ll take the compliment anyway.” Then she closed the door and walked back to the bed, all the while writing on the notebook. “You wish for money but desire to make me happy, looks like. Which is absolutely lovely, and also means that you can’t control witchcraft.”

Trixie arched an eyebrow, the smile still showing. “Not yet,” she said.

“Not yet,” Starlight repeated. She scribbled a bit harder. “There, I wrote that too. I underlined the ‘yet’ twice.”

Trixie nodded. “Good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a real gem, it’s what I do.” Starlight hummed under her breath and swished her tail side to side a little more. Then she put the quill away, and flipped through the notebook pages. She’d written on more than half of them already. “We’re learning a lot,” she mused. “More than I expected.”

“You’re welcome,” Trixie said, nose up to the skies, trotting to the bed and jumping on it. “I suppose it’s to be expected when you’re working with someone like me.” She blew a strand of mane off her face, and then looked at Starlight. “You won’t get results like these working with Princess Twilight.

Starlight rolled her eyes—though she chuckled—and then she flashed the notebook away, and jumped on the bed too, sitting next to Trixie. “So. Uh.”

Trixie perked her ears up. She recognized the tone. “Yeah?”

“Are you happy, being a witch? Like…” Starlight rubbed the back of her neck. “You like it, right?”

“Sure!” Trixie leaned back; she was lounging, rather than sitting. The pose fit her quite well. “It’s great. I’m great at it.”

“Yeah. We haven’t tamed witchcraft yet, that’s a bit worrying, but there’s no reason to fret yet. I’m sure we only need a little more work, and—”

Trixie’s mouth was a thin hard line. She didn’t frown, though, she was good at this. “I’ll control it,” she said. “I’m not going to hurt anypony.”

Which made Starlight blink. “What?”

“I said I’ll control it! I’m going to prove Princess Twilight wrong.” Trixie sounded fierce, here. “And I’ll love every moment of it.”

“Wha—I mean, yeah! Obviously! I know you won’t hurt anypony, that’s a given.” Starlight shook her head, scooted closer to Trixie, waved a hoof in the air. “I wasn’t talking about that.”

“Oh.” Trixie blinked. “You said it was worrying?”

“Yes, but I meant that—hm. That you don’t have to worry. Not that I…” Starlight sucked air through her teeth, and then started again. “Listen, is there anything in particular you want out of witchcraft? I meant more like, if you do, you’ll get it soon. So don’t fret or get impatient. That’s all.”

Trixie frowned. “Oh.”

“So is there anything you want?”

No hesitation. Immediate answer. “Piles of money.”

Starlight blinked. “Wait, for real?”


“I thought you were only asking for that because you were too lazy to come up with anything else?”

“Oh.” Trixie nodded. “That’s a fair assumption! But I really want money.”

“Right. I had no idea. Are you going through some rough times or something?” Starlight leaned towards Trixie. “I have some savings, I can just help you to—”

“No, no, I don’t need the money, I just want it.” Trixie rolled her eyes, and then she lounged a bit harder on the bed. “It’d be better if we both found some! So we’d split it in half.”

“You’re really obsessed with that.”

“Because it’s the best case scenario. That’s all I want from witchcraft, really.” Trixie looked at Starlight. “See? Perfectly harmless. Nopony’s getting hurt.”

“I know.”

“Just in case.”

“Trixie, you don’t have to be so—are you actually scared you’re going to hurt somepony? Is that it? You’re better than that. You’re a natural at witchcraft.” Starlight elbowed Trixie. “And in a way, you’re more powerful than me. Maybe even Princess Twilight! You love that, don’t you?”

Trixie grinned, and said: “Meh, it’s not bad.”


Starlight blinked. “What.”

And Trixie blinked, too. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘it’s not bad’. What do you mean, ‘meh’?”

“I mean—”

“I thought that’s what you’d been wanting for a while?” Starlight reeled back a little so she could look at Trixie a bit better, frowning now. “Weren’t you jealous of Twilight for being a princess?”

What?!” Trixie jumped, here—she went from lounging to standing in a moment, eyes flashing. “Jealous? Of her?” The words came out like a hiss. Hatred made sound. “What for. I’m better than she’ll ever be.”


Starlight frowned. “Wow.”

Trixie glared. “Yeah.”

“I thought you were—aren’t you at least a bit, I don’t know.” Starlight squinted. “Annoyed that she’s a princess and you’re not? I mean, it’s better if you don’t, absolutely, but I thought—”

“If she’s a princess, then being one was never that good anyway.”

“Okay, yeah, this runs way deeper than I thought. I mean, good that you’re not jealous?” Starlight rubbed the space between her eyes. “There’s a lot to unpack here. Don’t know where to start.”

“I’m not jealous. I hate her, but I’m not jealous.”

“Yes, no, that much is clear. Okay! That’s a conversation to have in the future. Twilight is a good pony, okay? You don’t have to like her, but I love her like a—”

“I know.” Trixie sat down again, her glare softening a little. “Just making things clear. I’m okay with her because you like her. But I’m not.” There was the hiss again. “Jealous of her.”

Starlight nodded, slowly. “Oooo-kay. Right. I just… I don’t know, I thought you resented the fact that she was more powerful than you?”

Trixie puffed her chest out. “She wishes she were.”

“…Do you actually believe that.”

“Yes.” Pause. “Well. No. But I’m still better than her where it counts!”

Starlight nodded again. A bit faster, this time. “Then you don’t think she’s looking down on you.”

Trixie snorted. “I do not.”

“But—when we were at the library, remember? Researching rats?” Starlight frowned, poked Trixie on the side. “You asked me if I was tired of her looking down everypony! I thought you were self-conscious about how Twilight and I are more powerful than you?”

“I wanted to know if you were self-conscious about it!” Trixie said. “I asked if you were tired of her looking down on you. Not me!”

“What!” Starlight was the one reeling back here, hoof against her chest. “I’m not! Why would—she doesn’t look down on me!”

“She doesn’t?”

“Why would she?”

“I don’t know, because she’s terrible?” Trixie frowned. “I just wanted to know if you were tired of living here, is all. You’re a bit too good at overthinking, sometimes.”

Starlight snorted again. “So all that talk about her living in a castle, and how uppity that was? Was that—wait.” She blinked. Poked Trixie again. “Wait, so that wasn’t you saying she thought she was better than you.”

“I would literally never say that. She knows I’m better than her!”

“You were—oh my gosh.”

Starlight ran it all through her head again. Aren’t you tired of living in her shadow, Starlight? She lives in a castle, and I live in a wagon, and isn’t that better, Starlight?

I love my wagon, but we both know it’s too small, Starlight.

Your room is too small too, Starlight.

We should split the money, Starlight, it’s the best case scenario.

Starlight’s eyes went wide. Like, wide. Like, in actual danger of them falling out. She looked at Trixie and for a moment she was short of breath, she was very nervous, and she had no idea why. “Oh my gosh,” she repeated, leaning closer to Trixie. “You want us to live together.”

Trixie looked at her.

Then she looked down, and fiddled with her hooves. “I mean,” she mumbled. Mumbled. The Great and Powerful Trixie was mumbling. “If you want to.”

“Oh my gosh. You want to move out with me! You want us to live together?” Starlight grinned, and she leaned even closer. “You want us to live together!”

Trixie looked at her, saw Starlight was smiling, smiled again. Shyly. Try to picture that. “I mean—”

“Trixie, I would love living with you! Oh my gosh!” Starlight barked out a laugh, and then hugged Trixie, nuzzled her on the side of her face. “Trixie, I had no idea! You want to live with me? Really?”

Trixie hugged her back. She giggled. “It would be great,” she said. “Wouldn’t it?”

“It would be wonderful!” Then Starlight opened her eyes, and let Trixie go. “Well. That, or we’ll kill each other. Do you think we’ll kill each other? I mean, that roadtrip—”

“Was great! I mean, until it was terrible and we wanted to kill each other. We will need separate rooms, or something like that. You snore.”

“I snore! I snore a lot!” Starlight’s grin came back. Eyes full of stars. “And you still want to live with me!”

Trixie grinned back. Eyes full of stars, too. “I do!”

And then they hugged again, and laughed, and kept on hugging.

Eventually, they let go—though they did not stop grinning for a while.

“Aaaah.” Starlight hiccuped a little from the laughter, and then kept a hoof on Trixie’s shoulder, and looked at her. “Trixie, I’d love to live with you. I’d—uh. Do we need to buy a house?”

“Do you want to sleep in my wagon again? Because I’m not living in this castle.”

“Right. We need to buy a house.” Starlight frowned. “I mean, I have some savings, but—”

“I should find some treasure?”

“You should find some treasure, yes. That would make things easier. Let’s split it in half.” Starlight frowned, then, and pointed at the window. “So… Wait, you want to live here, in Ponyville? Forever? With me?”

“I could settle down.” Trixie shrugged. “I am a travelling magician, but I wouldn’t mind staying here. Ponyville loves my shows, doesn’t it? And sometimes the road gets lonely.”

Starlight smiled, and pressed a hoof against her chest again. “You’d settle down for me!”

Trixie gave her a coy look. The kind a seductress would use. It looked good on her. “Oh, well, I can always do a yearly tour around Equestria. Ask for a higher price. Make it exclusive, don’t you think?”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Then Starlight cocked her head to the side, and scooted closer to Trixie, so that their sides were touching. “But, wait. So all you wanted was to move in with me?”

Trixie nodded.

“Then why did you want to try witchcraft?” Starlight asked. She noticed, perhaps with a bit of embarrassment, that her tail was still wagging—so she stopped it, and then went on. “I thought you just wanted to, well. To be more powerful. But if you really don’t want that…”

“I had power once, remember?” Trixie asked. She did not try to stop her tail from wagging, she just went on with it. Harder if anything. “Alicorn Amulet? Didn’t end well.”

“Right. So why were you so excited when we saw that book?”

Trixie leaned forward, gave Starlight the kind of look that would make a child go through puberty in an instant. “Scientific curiosity,” she purred.

“We both know that’s a lie.”

Same exact look, same exact purr: “I thought it’d make you happy.”


Starlight half-chuckled. “Pfwhat? What?” Then she went serious. “No, for real. Seriously?”

And Trixie blinked, and the purr went away. “Uh. Yes? You sounded excited about it, so I thought—”

“I thought you were excited about it!”

“What! Why would I be!”

“Because you wanted to be more powerful! Because you were self-conscious about Twilight and me being—oh my gosh.” Starlight looked at her hooves. “Oh for the love of—”

“I’m not self-conscious!” Trixie said. “I was never self-conscious! Not once in my life.”

“Yeah, I’m realizing that now! Oh, for Celestia’s sake. You just did it cause you thought it’d make me happy, and I did it cause I thought it’d make you happy, and...” Starlight scooted away from Trixie, ears flat against her head, annoyance in her voice. “We both did it for each other? Seriously?”

Trixie backed off, too. “I thought you were into scientific curiosity!” she said, pointing at Starlight. “Are you telling me you don’t enjoy investigating this?”

“I have a degree of scientific curiosity, yes, but I also understand priorities!”

“You were taking notes! You wrote down everything I said to you!”

“I mean, if we’re doing this, might as well? But that’s just like, a plus!” Starlight held her face in her hooves, and groaned. “I can’t believe we were both doing this for each other. This is such a stupid misunderstanding.”


Starlight took her face out of her hooves and looked at Trixie, suddenly smiling. “Aaaw,” she said. “We were doing this for each other!”

Trixie smiled too. “What a stupid misunderstanding!”

And they hugged again.

For three seconds. “Wait.” Trixie broke the hoof and pushed Starlight away. “Wait. Did Princess Twilight know about this?”

“Uuuuh.” Starlight thought about it. “I mean, I told her about it on my end.”

“Shoot.” Trixie looked to the side, frowning. “I told her, too.”

“Then, yeah, she definitely knew what we were doing.” Starlight puffed some air through her cheeks. “I mean, she probably saw it coming? Princess of Friendship and so on. Wow, she must think we’re idiots.”

“Ugh. She’s going to be so smug about this.”

“What? No way. Twilight wouldn’t—” Starlight saw the look Trixie was giving her, and bit her tongue. “Okay, fair point. This is you we’re talking about. She’s going to be pretty smug.”

Great.” Trixie pouted, and then kicked her legs up and down. “I mean, I’m already a witch, though, so.”

“Yeah, not much we can do. Look for treasure?”

Trixie smirked. “And let’s buy a house.”

“Let’s!” Starlight chuckled, and then relaxed her shoulders. “Aaah. You’re a good friend, Trixie.”

“I know.” Trixie winked at her. “You’re not half-bad either.” Then she stopped, and then rubbed her forearm, and lowered her head a bit. “…You trusted me with witchcraft just to make me happy?”

Starlight got closer again, and elbowed Trixie. “Of course I did. I told you, didn’t I? I trust you’ll do the right thing.”

Trixie nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “I won’t let you down.”

“You couldn’t do it if you tried,” Starlight said, and this time it was her winking at Trixie. “Plus, so far witchcraft has been really gentle, hasn’t it? You’re really good at it.”

“Oh, well, you know. I’m just generally great like this.”

“You really are. Which is,” Starlight said, reaching over and poking Trixie on the snout, which made them both giggle, “why I know you’re not going to hurt anypony. You’re just generally great like that.”

And then there was a flash of green flames that filled the room.


And a note appeared, and slowly fell like a feather, facing them—and so they both could it before it reached the ground.

It was signed:


And it read:



They didn’t laugh anymore that day. Nopony really did.