Off-season

by Cloud Ring

Chapter two, in which Beatrix Lulamoon uses oranges to resolve an issue

In other circumstances the sight of a light blue unicorn diagonally sprawled on her stomach on Starlight's desktop, combined with a brown stetson hat strategically positioned where it mattered most, might have pleased the owner of the table. As well as a small, half-empty bottle of sparkling wine standing dangerously at the very corner of it.

There were three good reasons now for the sight being more annoying than pleasing.

First, Piercing Strike had a Mark.

Second, Beatrix Lulamoon possessed an unsurpassed skill in taking on a face of Most Definitely Not Jealous, Keeping the Family Hearth Alive Trixie, and Starlight swore to not call her out on her hypocrisy ever since that second time when their personal relations somehow became a matter of lively societal conversations and utterly misleading gossips for a better half of both Littlehorn university and that summer. Moreover, Trixie was not doing that consciously, it was just the mood forcing her to appear worse than she usually was, and Trixie being Trixie.

And third, this night Trixie was not supposed to be here at all: the day before yesterday she went, to say it in formal language and completely ignore the essence of the trip, "on a diplomatic visit to Her Majesty Queen Chrysalis" where she was supposed to stay at least for a whole week.

Like many ponies, Starlight preferred a two-story apartment for living: the lower floor for day-to-day job and receiving customers, the upper floor for sleeping, relaxing and other ways of personal life, admittance on which could be given only to the closest relatives or friends, or, quite occasionally, visitors of exceptionally large parties who did not fit on the first floor. And it was not like Starlight threw said parties often — or, to be frank, ever.

Trixie's sleeping body floated to the top floor along the steep stairs — Starlight took care that the body would remain asleep with an additional pulse of magic. She retrieved the stetson hat and pulled it to her — for later delivery to the true owner — as soon as she was sure that Trixie herself could not be seen behind the bend of the stairs.

During this time, Piercing Strike managed to: get to the door and pull it; make sure it is locked; dash to the closed window and start seeping through the glass, which, apart from Princess Luna herself, only Canterlot batponies and some thestrals were able to perform; and finally, squeak indignantly when securely captured by Starlight's magic. The unicorn slowly and smoothly pulled her back into the room by the bat’s hind legs — the glass bent and waved, and the batpony, whose front half was soaked all over again, looked and smelled even more miserable than before — and put Piercing Strike in front of her.

“Well, are you going to run away... again?” Starlight asked.

Piercing Strike shook her head, “N-no... will you feed me to thestrals now, Lady Glimmer?

Starlight froze and stared into Piercing Strike's face. She doesn't seem to be joking. Poor thing.

“What are you thinking, dearie?” Now Starlight herself stepped closer to hug the bat, “Thestrals haven't eaten ponies for a long, long time. Even the most predatory of them. Even when no one sees them. I know that for sure.”

The bat quickly nodded and relaxed, if only slightly. Starlight covered them both with a bubble of silence and whispered in Piercing Strike's ear, “I promise I won't give you up to anypony, and I won't make your issue public. We'll deal with this together, but not in the way you suggest. Losing the Mark is not an option, I assure you! The Mark is your talent and destiny, without it you will be weak and sad. We don't even subject criminals to this, let alone pretty decent and cute foals... okay? Do you believe me?”

Starlight waited for a nod and a weak "Yes, but ..." in response, and continued, “No ‘but’! Even if this is a bad Mark, which I have seen only once in my life, if the worst comes to worst, we can contact the Mark, ask it for clarification and details, and then…”

Piercing Strike, without the slightest warning, rushed away and jumped out of the bubble. Opening her fanged mouth, flashing rows of sharp teeth, she let out a shrill, denying scream, in which there were no words but pure anger, disagreement, rejection. Starlight fell to the ground, clutching her head between her front legs — even through the wall of the bubble, the screeching was unbearable, she wanted nothing but silence and deafness, and even the chains of spell patterns worked out in advance for exactly this case just could not appear in her mind.

The scream just as suddenly broke off with a short cry of acute pain and surprise, then another one, and another, and each next one was quieter than the last. The rapid clatter of oranges, scattering on the floor and rolling through Starlight's tearful field of view, emphasized the blessed silence.

Starlight did not rise for a fairly long time. Her ears were ringing, her vision was blurry, and magic was still out of reach.

Trixie, visibly shaken too, with ears drooped and eyes wide, walked over to her and stood by her side, letting Starlight lean on her. Starlight blinked and found Piercing Strike. The batpony was sucking the juice out of the fourth orange; the fifth and sixth, yet untouched, lay on the carpet of the study, while the first three there were nothing but dried skins. The wine from a shattered bottle flowed from the carpet to the floor, foaming.

Trixie smelled of ash, oranges, crab apple alcohol, and a little of what Starlight might have mistaken — and used to mistake — for Applejack, until she learned to pick up on the very subtle sourful and acidic difference between the scents. Starlight buried her nose in Trixie’s coat and rested for a while, blinking watery eyes. Then she sighed and with an unwanted and involuntary reluctance said to her wife, “Thank you. But how did you guess?.. How did you know that oranges are a substitute for blood for…”

Trixie blinked, "Me? Guessed? I just threw the first thing I saw at the bat!”

Starlight saw a sly spark in her eyes, and did not insist.

“Why did you come back so early?” she asked instead.

“Well…” Trixie drawled.

Comments

[StarrySkies]

An interesting start! I'm curious where this is going to go from here.