Muffins and Magic Shows
Rarity’s more cynical side had fully expected to wake up with a pillow pressed tight against her face, but Gilda had stayed true to her word. Just as expected - psychopathic jerk or not, she is still a professional who will honor a deal. She yawned loudly as she dragged herself out of bed and opened her bedroom door. On the other side of the corridor, Gilda did the same. Oh, right, Miss Pie let her have the second bedroom for the sake of faaaiiirness.
It was almost comical how much the situation felt like staring into a mirror - Gilda had opened her door at precisely the same time as her, was coming out of a bedroom just like hers, was looking just as exhausted as her... Except I have some nightwear while Gilda is wearing the same sweaty suit she wore yesterday. She smirked at that. “Race you to the bathroom, darling?”
“Tch, suit yourself. I’ll see if the kitchen has some food that’s high in magnesium - I’m still feeling slightly sore from flying here, and my food additives are in my suitcase.” She cocked her head. “Think your secretary keeps a heating pad in that purse of hers?”
“Maybe, but I’m not going to tell her to give it to you, so you’re on your own,” Rarity said as she walked into the bathroom.
“I always am.”
Rarity frowned at that, but she kept it carefully hidden from Gilda. “Leave me some food, and I’ll leave you some hot water. Deal?”
“Sure.”
Somehow, it filled Rarity with immense satisfaction that Twilight was also looking at least moderately tired, mostly because it was a rare sign that she was not, in fact, disgustingly perfect in every way possible.
“You and Trixie share this weird energy bar addiction, y’know?” Gilda asked from her place under a massive heat lamp that definitely hadn’t been in the library last night. She adjusted her wings slightly to expose the largest area possible to the warmth.
“I do know, Miss Dawnstar,” Twilight replied wearily, even as she took another bite out of one. “They are efficient, and I will need a lot of energy.”
Gilda took a spoonful of her own breakfast - another bowl of whatever stew Twilight had found, and Rarity spotted a few sorts of nuts mixed into it - before giving her a look. “Right. For your mystery plan to bring Trixie here?”
“Trixie and the car, yes.”
“The car that is parked a few hundred miles away from here.” Gilda narrowed her eyes. “And you’re going to bring it here?”
“Well, strictly speaking, I won’t. I will help Trixie bring it here.”
Gilda exchanged brief looks with Rarity. “Not to question your, uh, genius, but... I call shenanigans. I may not be an expert in your magicology or whatevs, but you can’t tell me that you or my ditz of a secretary can teleport a car across those distances.”
Twilight opened and closed her mouth three times, likely to dumb down her explanation every time before deciding that it needed to be dumbed down even further. “Right,” she finally muttered, “I’ll try to make it brief. Ponies possess cutie marks, which fall into a variety of general categories. Some represent a specific skill, some a more general aptitude, some a special bond, and so on and so forth. Both Trixie and I fall into the broad spectrum that is often called Arcana, or, more colloquially speaking-”
“Magic,” Gilda finished her sentence. “You’re both magicians among magicians.”
“In a sense, yes. Trixie possesses an intuitive grasp of portals and general navigation of space in ways that would normally be impossible.”
“Yeah, kinda noticed that during the race.” Gilda looked down briefly. “...is that how she pulls stuff from under her stupid cape all the time?”
Twilight smiled faintly. “Indeed. She also enchanted my purse.”
“But her magic is-” Gilda gestured vaguely. “-expensive, for lack of a better word. She went through half a dozen of these stupid energy bars the moment the coast was clear.”
Rarity thought back to Twilight also showing a very healthy appetite after the race, and nodded slowly. She had never given much thought to details such as draining and replenishing magical energy, mostly because this was a non-issue for her. Although she was a unicorn, her own magic was more all-purpose, and the skillset bestowed by her cutie mark - granting her heightened proficiency when working with diamonds - had exactly zero application in her job.
“Correct. Trixie and I are blessed with extraordinary magical abilities, but with magic, there are limits to factors like range, magnitude, or available energy.”
“Right. If she was just able to open one of those portals to this place, she would’ve done so long ago.” Gilda cocked her head. “What is your skill, Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight hesitated. “Outward application of magic. My field of expertise is not as easily described as Trixie’s.”
“You mentioned teleportation and transferring power,” Rarity said - despite or maybe because of the adrenaline rush during the race, she remembered that detail clearly.
“Yes, these are applications,” Twilight allowed. “Very, very broadly speaking, I can project magic in a variety of ways, ranging from magical fields to short folds in space to relocate myself and things in my vicinity.”
“...and that has what exactly to do with Trixie?”
“Trixie’s skill is effectively limited only by how much energy she can burn through at a moment’s notice and by how reliably she can place her exit portal. My skill is projection of magic.”
“...are you trying to tell us that you are going to send your power over to Trixie?” Rarity asked, then frowned. “You can send a burst of magic across several hundred miles to a specific recipient?”
“Yeah, not buying it.” Gilda abruptly got up and gave Rarity a glare. “If this was your plan to make me stop writing that contract, our dearest Adjudicator won’t be quick enough to-...” She blinked. “...come to think of it, where is she?”
“I sent her to the local bakery to buy as much sugary food as she can.” Twilight crossed her arms. “And we’re only here because you-”
“At what point did we reach the point where we can send Pinkadink on errands?”
“We did not, Miss Dawnstar. But we are here having this discussion because-”
“Whatever.” Watching Twilight twitch at being constantly interrupted seemed to give Gilda more energy than the stew did. “I’ll fetch the contract. Keep the heat lamp out; I’ll just finish transcribing it here.” And with that, she got up and turned to leave.
Rarity wasn’t sure if Twilight was more annoyed by Gilda treating her like staff or by her lack of faith. “Do as you please, Miss Dawnstar. You are free to watch once Miss Pie returns.”
Gilda turned around when she heard Twilight’s defiant tone. “Either you end up looking like an idiot, or I get my secretary back. Either way, I’ll be happy.”
“Isn’t that nice,” Twilight muttered and took another bite of her energy bar. “Meanwhile, some of us actually have to work for our happiness.”
“Yeah, these people are called suckers.”
Gilda walked back up to her room, and Twilight gave the stairs a dark look. Rarity coughed sheepishly. “Please, darling, only overclock the heat lamp if you are certain Miss Pie won’t disqualify me for it.”
Twilight gave her a quick look and smirked wearily. “Heh.”
“I know Gilda better than you,” Rarity added after a moment of silent contemplation, “and I can tell she is grateful for what you’re doing here. We both are. She is just bad at showing it.”
“Right. Right.” Twilight nodded slowly and sighed. “I just hope that Miss Applejack remains stubborn. I would be slightly aggravated if Miss Dawnstar fully subverted what little of a plan I had left.”
Rarity sighed quietly. “You and me both, darling.”
Ponyville was... cozy, Pinkamena readily admitted. It literally wasn’t much more by any metric, but it was cozy. What does it say that Miss Lestia’s two top employees jumped at the opportunity to bulldoze it just to build an office building in its place? She huffed as she walked along the wide, unpaved roads through the village. Neither of them even thought to suggest erecting the building next to the village. I’m pretty sure it would’ve been easier to buy parts of the infinite forest next to it. She grimaced. Granted, that would have meant openly disagreeing with Miss Lestia. And if there is anything most people are afraid of, it’s piano on the road. She stopped dead in her tracks and did a double take.
There was, in fact, a piano standing in the middle of the road.
And it was in front of the bakery Pinkamena was headed to.
She looked at the piano, then at the oddly cheerful - and definitely hand-painted - “Sugarcube Corner” sign. Then she looked at the ground. The piano’s legs had left four thin but deep furrows, indicating a significantly suboptimal transportation method. “Hm.” She shrugged and opened the door of the bakery.
She raised an eyebrow when she realized that the supposed bakery was more of a cafe, with several tables and chairs taking up more than half of the floor space. Something to keep in mind, maybe. It’s not exactly a restaurant, but Miss Dawnstar might not be in the mood for old stew for much longer. She looked from the only customer - a grey-coated pegasus in a dark blue mailmare uniform sitting at a table - to the pony behind the counter.
The employee - or maybe the owner? - of Sugarcube Corner, an Earth pony with a light blue coat and a two-tone light red mane, was giving her a mild frown. “Can I help you?”
Pinkamena narrowed her eyes a little bit. She knows why we’re here. Or at least she knows about the plan to buy the farm. But she might still be willing to do regular business. “Good morning.” She slowly walked over to the counter. “I require a tray full of... confections... to go. Cake, sweets, anything with a large quantity of sugar.” She took a look at the goods behind the employee. “And half a loaf of bread.”
“...of course, dear.”
“You should try something sweet as well.”
Pinkamena blinked. “Pardon?” She slowly turned around to find the pegasus pony with the blonde mane looking directly at her. Well... one eye was looking directly at her. The other one... wasn’t.
The pegasus smiled widely. “Feel free to have a seat! And have a muffin! It’s on me!” She waved at the bakery employee. “Mrs. Cake! Another chocolate chip muffin with blueberry-banana frosting for my new friend!”
...new friend? Pinkamena looked around to ensure that there were no other ponies she could have referred to. “Excuse me, but I believe you must be mistaking me for somepony else...”
The pegasus giggled. “I know everypony in Ponyville, and they are all my friends. So who else would be my new friend?”
“I will admit that makes sense... in the loosest way,” Pinkamena conceded.
Mrs. Cake placed a small plate on the pegasus’ table. On it was the most colorful, overloaded muffin Pinkamena had ever seen. “Have a seat, dear; it will take a few minutes to pack everything up, anyway.” She seemed a lot friendlier all of a sudden - had the pegasus implicitly vouched for her just now?
Pinkamena sat down at the other side of the small table and gave the pegasus a look. “No offense, but you seem oddly trusting.”
The pegasus grinned at that. “I just like everypony.”
“I wish I still had that same amount of innocence.” The words were out before she even had time to think about a reply. She frowned.
“You don’t?”
“No.” Pinkamena narrowed her eyes. “Used to. But I realized that-...” Her voice trailed off, and she gestured vaguely with one hand. She wasn’t used to reflecting on the events leading to her ascent to her current position.
“I bet you’re still a good pony, though.”
“I am a just pony.”
The pegasus giggled. “Yes, I am also just a pony.”
“No, I meant-...” Pinkamena allowed herself a faint smile when she realized that the pegasus was joking. Probably.
“Try your muffin,” the pegasus pointed at the baked good, and Pinkamena picked it up.
The muffin seemed to weigh a solid pound, with at least half of the weight coming from a mountain of dark yellow frosting with embedded blueberries. She carefully took a bite, trying to get a little bit of everything in her mouth. “Hm.” She chewed. Her first impression was a simple overload of sweetness, but as she chewed, she was able to place the various flavors: banana, blueberries, chocolate... “Mh...” This is pretty good! “Mhhh!” She swallowed and nodded slowly, then with more enthusiasm. Definitely better than the stuff they sell in the food court! I mean, not that I ever tried the bakeries there for more than a sandwich, but I never even saw a muffin like this on their shelves, so how could they sell a muffin this good if they don’t have a muffin this good this is just proper logic and- She reached up to her neck with her free hand and quickly checked her pulse. She couldn’t find it for a moment, but then she realized that it was almost too fast to detect with her lack of experience and admittedly crude method of measuring it. “This thing just gave me eighteen new, previously undiscovered kinds of diabetes, I think. I will also probably not sleep for the next three days.”
“Isn’t it the best?” The pegasus asked and grinned.
“Yeah!” Pinkamena nodded, then caught herself. Composure. You are a professional. “I mean... indeed, it is good.”
“Heh.”
“I might require a bag for this - I’m pretty sure I need to burn some calories before I can tackle the rest.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.” The pegasus looked past Pinkamena with one of her eyes. “I think Mrs. Cake is done, anyway.”
Minutes later, Pinkamena carried her large cardboard box (and a much smaller paper bag) out of the bakery. The pegasus joined her outside a few seconds later and casually walked over to the piano. “Well, it has been a pleasure!” she shouted and got herself in position at one side of it. Then, using all her feeble strength and a rather ill-advised posture, she PULLED.
The piano moved less than half an inch.
“Wooo!” the pegasus cheered - apparently, this was far more progress than she had expected.
“Yes, goodbye.” Pinkamena had a mission to finish. She started to walk.
Behind her, the piano moved another half inch.
She hesitated.
What are you doing? She frowned at herself. You can’t be seriously considering this. Please. You have a task to do, and then you have even more crucial tasks to do. That’s your job. Just like this is hers. She gritted her teeth. MOVE, PINKAMENA!
Pinkamena turned to face the pegasus again. “Where do you have to take this?”
The pegasus stopped pulling and gave her an ever-friendly smile. “This is a delivery for Mr. Davenport’s shop, ‘Quills and Sofas.’” She winked. “Guess what he sells there.”
“...pianos?” Pinkamena asked, even as she tried to wrap her mind around the implications of the more obvious answer.
“Excellent question! Maybe! Though wouldn’t I be delivering a piano from the shop in that case?”
“...where is that shop? And who sends a piano by mail?”
The pegasus frowned briefly as if she hadn’t asked herself that last question several hundred times while making the world’s slowest delivery run. “Well, the shop is over there.” She pointed past Pinkamena, who turned around.
“I... don’t...” She squinted. “Do you mean the shop all the way over there? That has got to be half a mile away.”
“Yeah, sounds about right.”
Don’t do it, Pinkamena. You just met her. She has her job; you have yours. “...why don’t we trade deliveries?” You will be FIRED, and you will DESERVE IT, and Miss Lestia will RE-HIRE you only so she can FIRE you AGAIN.
“Are you sure about that?” The pegasus frowned but then gave Pinkamena a sly smile. “That box looks awfully heavy...”
“...heh.” Pinkamena allowed herself a half-smile. “It is of utmost importance that this box - and its content - gets to the Golden Oak library as soon as possible. Do you understand?”
“I’m the Ponyville mailmare; delivering things is my job!” The pegasus saluted.
She will ditch the box to sabotage you. In her eyes, you are part of evil corporate goons who want to destroy her way of life. “I want you to take an oath.”
“...Mrs. Cake can just make more, you know?” When Pinkamena just held out her hand, she sighed and shook it. “Fine... I, Muffin Mare, swear on my name-”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Pinkamena shook her head. “Your name is Muffin Mare?”
The pegasus frowned briefly. “Well, some ponies just call me the muffin mare, so I suppose it’s more of a title, but I liked the sound of it!” She grinned. “Others call me Derpy Hooves or Ditzy Doo. It’s all good, really.”
“Yes, great, but what’s your na-” She frowned when the pegasus silenced her by placing a finger on her lips.
“You will know what you want to call me in due time. Until then, you can borrow whichever name you like.”
Pinkamena tilted her head. Before this trip had started, she had only felt this confused during her chats with Miss Lestia. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
The pegasus laughed at that. Then she thought for a second. Then she laughed again. “Of course not.” She smiled. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Very well, Muffin Mare, you swear to deliver these baked goods as soon as possible?” Pinkamena held out her hand again.
“I do, Pinkamena.” The mare of many names shook her hand again and smiled. “See you around!” And with that, she flew off, box in hands.
“Okay... see you...” Pinkamena waved slowly, then gave the piano a look. “Right, then, let’s get this thing to its destination.” Earth pony magic was less flashy than the unicorn equivalent, but it certainly came in handy when one needed to subtly relocate an object’s center of mass or enhance its structural integrity. She picked up the piano and settled it onto one of her shoulders. “Oof.” Earth pony strength or not, carrying her load all the way to the shop would take a few minutes. But it’s okay. That oddball pegasus will take care of my delivery; hers doesn’t have to set a new record. She allowed herself another tiny smile. Muffin Mare. What a silly name.
She took a step.
Then another.
Then she paused.
“Wait, how did she know my name?”
Rarity normally enjoyed watching Twilight work. She found it oddly soothing to watch her assistant go through all steps of a given task in her calm, efficient way.
This time, however, Twilight was working to help Gilda. Granted, the net gain for her rival would be minimal, but it would not be zero. And when your entire career is on the line- She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly when she felt yet another anxiety attack coming on. Easy. Easy. The farmer isn’t going to sell, no matter how absurdly over the top the offer is. Let Twilight reunite with her wife, let Gilda glee about getting a piece of paper. None of that matters because the stupid mountain of a mare won’t sell. She rubbed her chin and looked up at the farm towering over the village. The library was in the center of the village, allowing her a clear view from her current seat in front of it. It will be mine. I just need to figure out an angle that works.
She eyed Gilda, who was pacing back and forth while giving Twilight impatient looks. Rarity narrowed her eyes - despite all the comments and jokes, it was easy to forget that Gilda was an actual, ferocious apex predator. An apex predator with a master’s degree in economics and a sick sense of humor, but still an apex predator. And one who had a bad day and now has had to watch Twilight doing some form of tai chi in front of her laptop for several minutes. “Um, darling,” she tried, “while I have all day, I believe my dearest coworker-”
“-is thinking you’re stalling,” Gilda hijacked her sentence.
Twilight slowly waved her hands back and forth before taking another look at her laptop, which was sitting on a small footstool. She adjusted her pose a little bit and resumed her motions. “What do you know about ley lines, Miss Dawnstar?”
Gilda frowned mildly. “Some... magic... conduit thing?”
“Fundamentally correct. A system of lines along which magic flows more easily. Measurable, mappable, but admittedly of little practical use for everyday applications, which is why ‘some magic conduit thing’ is about the extent of what most beings know about them.”
“Aaand you’re... doing what? Trying to find them?”
“Yes.” Twilight paused her hand-waving and pointed at the laptop screen. “There are rough maps of the lines in this area indicating that there should be ones around here that I can tap into.”
It was a rare sight, but Gilda seemed to be listening intently. “You’re trying to find a connection from here to some gas station in the middle of nowhere to... make magic flow?”
Twilight smiled happily. “Correct, Miss Dawnstar!”
Rarity stepped in - any instance of Twilight being on friendly terms with her nemesis put her on immediate high alert. “So you are going to send your magic over to Trixie to... what, super-power her portal spell?”
“Would love to, but no.” Twilight sighed. “Projecting magic is a lossy process even across short distances. Projecting it across several hundred miles would be unthinkable for a unicorn with average magical reserves. And actually boosting a spell across that distance would be an alicorn-level feat.”
“Then what’s the point?” Gilda growled, her mood rapidly shifting from scientific curiosity to impatient anger again.
“That’s the point.” Twilight pointed at the large, empty space in front of her.
Gilda squinted. “There’s-”
“To be more precise,” she continued, apparently determined to get her revenge for Gilda interrupting her earlier, “that’s the point where Trixie is supposed to open her exit portal. As opposed to, say, on top of the library. Or on the train tracks. Or inside the hills under Sweet Apple Acres.”
“You’re giving her a signal to home in on,” Rarity whispered. “That’s genius! And probably not as massive a strain on your reserves!” She paused when Twilight averted her eyes. “...right?”
“Ah...” Twilight nervously tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear. “Now might be a good time to ask you not to interfere if there is... screaming...”
“...darling, what-”
“Sure,” Gilda muttered, then shrugged when Rarity gave her a glare. “What? She’s not my secretary.”
“She is doing this for you!” Rarity hissed.
“No, she is doing this for herself. She just can’t avoid helping me in the process.” Gilda smirked. “She said so herself - our dearest Miss The Adjudicator would object to her stranding my stuff.”
“I can still tell her to cancel this entire operation,” Rarity whispered coldly.
Gilda narrowed her eyes for a second as she studied Rarity’s expression. Then she huffed. “But you won’t.”
“No, I won’t,” Rarity admitted, “but...”
Gilda slowly tilted her head. “About time you get the idea to slap a price tag on your secretary’s hard work. Was wondering when that would come up.”
“Once the farmer tells you to get lost, you will not stay at the library,” Rarity answered the unspoken question of what exactly the price would be. “That will be my center of operations.”
“Sure, whatever, just point me in the direction of the hotel. I don’t even care.”
“Ah, right, right... the hotel.” She made a show of turning toward her assistant. “Twilight, darling, would you mind telling Gilda where the hotel is?”
“Eighty-six miles south of here,” Twilight pointed out lazily before focusing on her laptop screen again.
“EIGHTY-...” Gilda smacked her forehead. “Of course. No hotel in this pathetic excuse for a village. So where do you suppose I could stay?”
“I don’t even care,” Rarity echoed and shrugged. “Sleep in the car. Or ask Trixie if she packed a tent.”
Gilda started to gesture frantically before making a dismissive gesture. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. And you know why?”
“Because you believe that you will succeed.”
“Because I know that I will-” Gilda froze. Then she blinked. “Where’d you come from?”
Rarity frowned mildly. “Are you feeling okay? You know where I came-” Something in her peripheral vision made her turn sharply. “WHAT!?” Standing right next to her was a pegasus pony. Where did she even come from? Gilda didn’t even seem to notice her!
“Hiii,” the pegasus said and waved her arm happily. “Delivery!”
“I-...” Rarity glanced at Twilight, but her borderline-omniscient assistant seemed as baffled as she was. She took a small step back and gave the pegasus a once-over. The uniform strongly suggested that she worked for the Equestrian Post Office, which also supposedly explained the box she was holding. Not that that explains how she just... appeared like that. It sounds unlikely that post office workers get ninja training... “Delivery... for me?” That’s absurd - who would send a package by mail to a location I hadn’t even expected to be at?
The pegasus frowned briefly. “I dunno. The kind lady told me to deliver this box to the Golden Oak library.” She turned around just as Rarity was reaching for the box. “And this is the Golden Oak library!”
“...kind lady?” Rarity and Twilight exchanged looks again. “Are you talking about Miss Pie? Earth pony, half a head taller than me, pink coat, pink mane, smiles like this?” She put on her best stoic expression.
The mailmare giggled at that. “That’s her!”
Twilight fully abandoned her ley line search and joined them. “Is this-...” She leaned closer to the box and sniffed it. “Oh wow, that smells amazing. Is this from the local bakery?”
“Yep! Fresh batch, straight from Sugarcube Corner!” The mailmare opened the lid of the box, and when Rarity saw its contents, she had never felt more hungry than at this moment.
There were muffins, donuts, small pastries, slightly larger pastries... and one looked better than the next. Their frosting also covered the entire visible light spectrum, plus maybe a few spectra she hadn’t even heard of yet. And if they look this amazing, just imagine what one tastes like... She slowly reached out to pick up a muffin that had frosting with half a rainbow worth of colors on it, but Twilight slapped her hand.
Rarity blinked.
TWILIGHT.
HAD.
SLAPPED.
HER.
HAND.
“Are you mental, darling?” she snapped and rubbed her hand.
“These are mine!” Twilight scolded her. “You want some, you can walk to the bakery and buy them.” She gave Gilda a look. “That goes double for you!”
“I’m good, don’t worry, dweeb,” Gilda muttered. “Not into this whole sugary-sweet stuff.”
“Excellent.” Twilight nodded and took the box from the mailmare. “...where is Miss Pie?” she finally asked.
“She’s making a delivery!”
“Well... yes. She was making this delivery.” Twilight held up the box. “But she apparently isn’t.”
“We traded deliveries!” Rarity was starting to suspect that the pegasus had either eaten a few of those muffins or that she was just naturally bubbly-cheerful. “She made me swear an oath that I would deliver this box as soon as possible,” she added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“...okay, that does sound like her.” Twilight frowned briefly but ultimately shrugged. “As long as she gets here again. I would like her to accompany Miss Belle and Miss Dawnstar on their trip.”
Rarity blinked when she realized that Twilight had only mentioned her and Gilda. “Won’t you be coming along?”
“Ah... quite likely not. I will take a while to recover and rebuild my strength.” She held up the box again.
“Darling,” Rarity said and laughed nervously, “you are holding roughly eighty thousand calories there. Surely you’re not suggesting that you will eat all of that?”
Twilight hesitated. “Well, Trixie will get half of the box since she will also use a lot of energy. We didn’t pack nearly enough energy bars for this feat.”
Rarity looked from Twilight’s deadpan expression to the box, then back at Twilight. “...you’re serious, aren’t you?”
“If I’m reading this map correctly, I will need to make at least three line hops, not even to mention the raw distance.” She shrugged again. “I might need to wolf down a quarter of the box just to not pass out on the spot.”
“Sounds like we’re in for a show,” Gilda commented drily.
Twilight grimaced. “Trixie is involved, so... yes.”
Gilda had the good - if somewhat odd - idea to drag the couch out of the library while Twilight was finishing her ley line research. Surprisingly, she even offered Rarity a seat. Even more surprisingly, she didn’t outright murder the mailmare when the latter also found a spot at the edge, right next to the griffon. She was, however, visibly annoyed. “...don’t you have deliveries to make?”
“I’m always where I’m meant to be,” the pegasus replied cryptically, giving Gilda a look with one eye while the other was somehow still watching Twilight. “Well, except when I’m not. In those cases, I’m not.” She giggled again.
Gilda imitated the giggle before scowling openly. “Look, Miss-...” She frowned.
“Mare,” the mailmare filled in the blank and offered her hand. “Muffin Mare!”
“...Muffin Mare,” Gilda echoed slowly, her scowl replaced by a look of disbelief.
“No relationship to the mayor,” Miss Mare added, as if that made the exchange any saner.
“...what’s the mayor’s name?”
“Mare! Mayor Mare!”
“...the mayor is also named Mare?”
“Yes!” Miss Mare cheered even as Gilda was edging closer to a nervous breakdown with each question. “Mayor Mare!”
Gilda blinked. Then she squinted at the pegasus as she obviously had a horrible hunch. “...what’s her first name?”
“Mayor!”
“...the mayor of this village is called Mayor Mare?”
“...been saying that since the start.”
Gilda very slowly turned to face Rarity, her sanity loss plainly visible on her features. “I will bulldoze this village,” she hissed. “And I will bulldoze that one’s house twice.”
“After you produce that proof of purchase, Miss Dawnstar,” Miss Pie intoned from her position right behind Gilda, making her twitch.
“Is today International Ninja Day?”
“That was about two weeks ago.” Miss Pie gave her a perfectly neutral look before nodding at the mailmare. “Miss Mare, I have completed your delivery. And I see you have completed mine.” She hesitated. “I do not, however, see Miss Lulamoon or a car.”
“Aha!” Twilight shouted and turned around. “But you will!”
“About time,” Gilda muttered, then gave Miss Pie a look. “We didn’t reserve you a seat.”
“It’s fine. Don’t feel sorry.”
“I don’t.”
Rarity caught a glimpse of the normally stoic Adjudicator rolling her eyes but wisely refrained from pointing it out. “Twilight, dear, are you saying you’re ready?”
“Indeed!” Twilight held up her phone and hit the dial button before placing it on the ground next to her laptop.
“Hey, love...”
Rarity could hear Trixie’s seductive purr even through the phone’s loudspeaker and across the distance between Twilight and her. She coughed - romance usually wasn’t high on her list of priorities, but she couldn’t deny that she would like to have somepony who greeted her like that.
“A-hem!” Twilight grinned sheepishly. “You’re on loudspeaker.”
“...well, yeah,” Trixie said after a short pause. “How else would the Great and Powerful Trixie address her audience?”
“Of course.” Twilight briefly looked up as if asking some divine power for help or strength. “Anyway. I have mapped out a path to your location, and we’re stocked up on snacks. Are you ready?”
“Ready?” Trixie let out some sort of indignant snort. “The Great and Powerful Trixie was BORN ready! Breathtaking feats of magic have been encoded into her DNA! There has been no day when-”
“Great!” Twilight’s smile was slightly forced. “I’m going to start now - the moment we establish contact, make the jump - I don’t know how long I can maintain the link!”
“Heh. You’re adorable when you’re worried. BUT FRET NOT, FOR-”
“YEP, STARTING NOW.”
Twilight got onto her knees and took one last look at the empty space in front of her, probably doing calculations involving the size of the car, portal... speed... and whatever else factored into her plans. Finally, she placed her palms on the ground and took a deep-
“Wait!”
Twilight yanked her hands away as if she had just put them onto a hot stovetop. “What!?”
“...what’re you wearing?”
Twilight froze. Then she slowly looked over her shoulder as if to double-check that she wasn’t alone. She cleared her throat, looking extremely flustered. “Love, this really isn’t the right time to-”
Trixie sighed in the most condescending way possible. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is talking about your stage outfit. Come to think of it, what does the stage look like?”
“Could we please just get this over with?” Twilight leaned back and covered her face with both hands.
“...you didn’t prep the stage, did you?”
“I placed an enchanted QR code where you need to go. You can home in on that. There is no stage other than that.”
“No stage!? Next, you’ll tell Trixie that you won’t be doing a show!?” Trixie let out a gasp. “And you! Are you in your work outfit?”
Twilight gritted her teeth. “What. Else. Would. I. Be. Wearing. At. Work?”
The purr was back. “You know exactly what, love.”
“No.” Twilight got up and started to pace. It occurred to Rarity that, aside from her panic attack yesterday, this was the first time her all-powerful secretary was looking out of control. “I am not going to put on that outfit. And I will not put on a show.”
“Well, then the Great and Powerful Trixie is afraid that she won’t be able to perform the portal spell...”
“Are you holding yourself hostage!?”
“Trixie will not apologize for having standards!”
Twilight gave the phone a long glare. A very, very long glare. After almost half a minute of silence, she let out a scream that made even Gilda jump in her seat. “UGH, FINE!” She stomped towards the library, shoving the entire couch aside with a flick of her magic. “BE THAT WAY! I’LL PUT IT ON!” She stopped at the door and finally gave her coworkers a look. “AND IF ANYBODY TOUCHES MY MUFFINS, I WILL MURDER EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU IN ASCENDING ORDER OF SCRABBLE WORD VALUE OF YOUR LAST NAME!” And with that, she went into the building, slamming the door shut behind her.
Gilda slowly leaned over to her. “You have no idea how satisfying it is to see somebody else being driven insane by Trixie.”
“Don’t tell her,” whispered back, “but it is also quite entertaining to see Twilight being a bit out of her depth.”
The door was kicked open again. “SHE WHO WHISPERS, LIES!” Twilight snapped. Somehow, she had changed into a completely new outfit within half a minute, and Rarity did a double take when she saw it.
The rational side of her brain told her that this was a typical stage magician outfit, but the other side was incapable of getting over the fact that her secretary looked highly ero-... er... very good. There was something to be said about wearing a white overbust corset on top of a black leotard, with all of that barely covered by a too-short black jacket. The addition of fishnet stockings and a black top hat rounded off the image. Only Twilight’s extremely grumpy look shattered the illusion of a career magician. “Not. One. Word.”
Gilda opened and closed her beak as she considered what Twilight might do to her if she went against that wish. Finally, she went with a wolf whistle, reasoning that that didn’t count as a word. Given that she didn’t spontaneously combust OR get a sentient train airdropped on her head, Twilight seemed to grudgingly agree.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this...” Twilight took off her hat and placed it upside down in the middle of the free space. She gave the phone one last glare before spreading her arms. “LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLADIES AND GENTLECOLTS! COME CLOSE, COME ALL! FOR YOU SHALL WITNESS... THE MISTRESS OF THE MYSTICAL! THE BUOY IN THE STORM OF MAGIC! THE GREAT! AND POWERFUL! TRRRRIXIEEEEEEEEE!”
She stood there, panting slightly. Miss Mare applauded enthusiastically, but she was alone.
“...tough crowd,” Trixie muttered.
“We’re all running low on sleep,” Twilight offered, but there was little conviction behind her words. “Anyway, shall we?”
“Fine, ready when you are.”
Twilight got on her knees and placed her hands flat on the ground again. She was most definitely not wearing the most fortunate outfit for this pose, and Rarity had to quickly slap Gilda’s side when she saw her going for a wolf whistle again.
Gilda gave her a grin-... then froze when they both felt something shift. Rarity held onto the couch as her body tried to parse which way it was falling. Magic, her brain filled in the blank. This wasn’t our sense of gravity sending out an alert but our sense of magic. Nothing is moving spatially, but the energy field around us has just changed. The magic aura around Twilight’s horn was traveling along her body, down her arms, and straight into the ground. She is actually doing it, she thought, only realizing now that she had apparently assumed that Twilight had been bluffing the entire time.
They could hear a few startled yelps throughout the village as Twilight’s magic raced along the world’s natural magic conductors. Rarity wanted to praise Twilight, but the words died in her mouth when she saw that her assistant was shaking. She started to get up. “Twilight, darling, you-”
“Don’t!” Gilda hissed and pulled her back down. “You have no idea what’s going to happen if you distract her now! And she literally told you not to interfere!”
“But-”
“OkAy,” Twilight half-shouted, half-whispered, “hALfwaY thERe, jUst-...” Her body locked up in a weird pose, and her mouth opened in a silent scream.
“TWILIGHT!” Rarity shouted, fighting Gilda’s grip. “LET ME GO, YOU-” She jumped backward when Twilight’s magic suddenly burst out along the ground behind her, literally scorching the earth to their left and right and only narrowly missing the couch and the library. Rarity took a quick look around and cursed quietly when she saw that the scorch marks were in the shape of two wings, making it look as if Twilight had somehow botched a ritual to ascend into an alicorn.
“FoCUs!” Twilight snarled, letting the magic around her horn flare up even more as she drew upon reserves probably nobody knew she possessed. “WHERE! ARE! YOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Her scream covered five different emotions as it increased in pitch.
This is it, Rarity suddenly thought. She miscalculated somehow. Over-estimated her reserves, maybe, or plotted out a wrong route. And now... now she is going to-... She blinked when she saw the top hat shaking. At first, she thought it was just a trick of the light, but after a moment, she realized that it really was moving. No way. A hand reached out of the hat, then went higher until one arm was comically sticking out of it. It blindly reached down until it found the brim of the hat. This is not happening. “Gilda, are you seeing-”
“Yeah,” Gilda whispered back, sounding just as baffled as Rarity, even though they were technically just looking at something Twilight had explicitly announced.
Before Rarity could find another way to voice her disbelief, the hand somehow picked up the top hat and spun it with a flourish. And before the rules of space and reality could puzzle out what was going on, Trixie had literally pulled herself and the Corvid out of the hat, ending up with her sitting in the driver’s seat and holding the hat out of the window.
“Wooow!” Muffin Mare cheered even as Rarity and Gilda stared at the scene with open mouths and wide eyes.
Trixie kicked open the door of the Corvid and jumped out, giving the small crowd her best grin. “BEHOLD! THE GREAT AND-” She had lost consciousness even before her body hit the ground.
Gilda cursed and jumped out of her seat. Rarity was about to make a snarky comment about how her cut-throat rival apparently cared a lot more about the well-being of her secretary than she had been willing to admit, but then she stole a look at- “TWILIGHT!” she yelped and rushed over to her own assistant, who was also lying on the floor, limbs twitching uselessly.
“Ghh-... GHHHH-...”
“Easy, easy, c’mon!” Rarity cradled Twilight in her arms, unsure what else to do. She was not trained in first aid, though she doubted that first aid classes covered cases like this. Fortunately, Twilight’s expression softened after a few agonizing seconds, and she at least seemed to not be in pain anymore. Rarity tried not to consider that this could be a sign of Twilight having lost whatever fight she had been engaged in. “You did it!” she whispered and forced a smile. “Trixie’s here!”
“HaaAaaaa,” Twilight croaked and gave her a forced grin of her own.
“Here,” Miss Pie whispered and held something in front of Rarity.
Rarity gave the colorful muffin a look and was about to dismiss it, but then she remembered that Twilight had emphasized their importance for a reason. She burnt through her reserves! She needs to recover that energy! She grabbed the muffin and held it up in front of Twilight’s mouth.
Twilight needed a moment to make sense of the object that had appeared in her field of view, but she slowly opened her mouth weakly and took a bite. “Hhhhh-...” She (barely) chewed and swallowed. It could have been a trick of the light, but Rarity was almost sure that she could see life returning to Twilight’s eyes. “Mhhh!” She opened her mouth again and took a larger bite. “MHHH!”
“That’s it, take it easy, chew, let’s not choke on-” Rarity’s reassuring smile froze when Twilight reached up and tried to stuff the entire rest of the muffin into her mouth. It didn’t quite fit, but Twilight didn’t seem to care and simply started to chew while a third of the muffin was still hanging out. Don’t say it, Rarity told herself and gritted her teeth. This is not the moment to complain about muffin crumbs on your business suit or her lack of table manners...
A few steps away, Gilda was apparently using a muffin of her own as a stand-in for smelling salt. Rarity wasn’t sure what was sillier - the fact that Gilda was trying that or that it seemed to work. What do they put into these things?
Twilight was finally starting to move, and Rarity wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be surprised that the recovering unicorn was reaching for the box of calories again. Miss Pie thankfully saw the gesture and brought the box over after handing Gilda a fair share of its contents. Rarity chuckled as Twilight stuffed an entire donut and then half a muffin into her mouth before she realized that she still had to chew. “...is something wrong?” she asked when she suddenly realized that Miss Pie was staring intently at Twilight.
“I’m waiting to see if she’s going to explode.”
“...pretty sure the time for explosions was when she performed her party trick,” Rarity commented and raised an eyebrow.
“Mh,” Miss Pie conceded and shrugged. “I had half a muffin back at the bakery, and I’m still feeling the sugar rush, even after delivering a piano.”
“Ah, I guess that makes sense, th-...” Rarity frowned. “...did you just say you were delivering a piano? Who would order a piano in this tiny village in the middle of nowhere?”
“Mr. Davenport of ‘Quills and Sofas.’ It’s a shop that sells quills and sofas, apparently.”
“...I see,” Rarity said and nodded, then gave Miss Pie the most exasperated, least understanding shrug ever. “Also, why were you delivering a piano?”
“It was slightly too heavy for Miss Muffin.”
“...of course,” Rarity muttered after a long pause. “Whatever was I thinking?” They both turned to Twilight when the latter coughed up some crumbs. Rarity noticed with alarm that the donut, the muffin... and two more muffins were gone without a trace. “...welcome back, darling?”
“Phew, that’s a solid start,” Twilight said to nopony in particular. “Thank you, Miss Belle, and apologies for causing you any distress. I think I can take it from here.” She slowly got onto her hooves... and collapsed straight away and onto Rarity. “...okay, I might need another muffin first.”
“You’re lucky you’re competent!” Rarity growled as she helped Twilight into a sitting position on the ground. “What you need is rest.”
“And a muffin. Or six.”
“Well, that’s not going to be easy - I doubt your wife will be willing to share.” Rarity pointed at Trixie, who was somehow trying to eat two muffins simultaneously.
“My wife just broke several laws of physics and... probably two laws of magic. She can have all the sweets she wants.” Twilight held one hand in front of her and watched it shake. Then she sighed. “Well, nothing caught fire at least, so I’d say that things went considerably better than-”
Rarity coughed.
Twilight blinked and gave her a look. Then she spotted the giant scorch marks on the ground. “-...ah.” A pause. “Well, at least I didn’t catch fire, so there’s that. Right? Right.” She gave the scorch marks another look. “...I hope that won’t count as vandalism.”
Somepony really needs to work on her priorities. “It’ll be fine. Once I buy the village, I’ll see to it that any charges will be dropped.”
Twilight gave her a smile. “Heh.” Then her smile faded. “I’m sorry, Miss Belle. This was quite selfish of me.”
Rarity sighed and idly adjusted a strand of her mane. “Apologize if your actions actually cause Gilda to get a signature. Until then, your actions now will allow you to focus on the matter at hand later. Assuming that Gilda gets shot down - or straight-up shot - as well, I need you to help me work out a second angle. And I believe you can do that better if you’re not worried sick about your loved one.”
The smile slowly returned. “If you feel better justifying your kindness with business logic, I won’t stop you.”
“I possess both, darling.” Rarity glanced up at the farm on the hill and narrowed her eyes. “I just can’t afford to show the former all that often.”
Notes, inspiration, credits:
- International Ninja Day was on December 5, and I missed it.
- Definitely not the first time one of my characters held herself hostage.
- I will try to push out one more chapter before Jinglemas starts. Fingers crossed.
- The mailmare delivered the bread to the kitchen before visiting Rarity, Twilight, and Gilda. I totally did not completely forget about it until the last once-over.
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Like the artwork
Love the Trixie Twilight dynamic. Also need art of Twilight in her magician outfit. Looking forward to more!
I actually really like this moment. Rarity doesn't like her, but she's not heartless.
Which is nice.
That's rough, buddy.
Simply put, yes.
That'd be how she pulls things from her cape. Useful.
I mean, makes sense. Magic is a form of energy, you gotta burn calories for it.
Logic checks out. You can't spend energy you don't have.
So, you're going to give her a boost, from over a good few hundred kilometers away?
Heh.
Both?
I mean, that's not, an unfair point?
I got nothing. This is just funny.
I, don't get it.
I love visual gags.
Hello, Ditzy.
Ah. That makes sense.
Acceptable.
She's trying very hard.
Nah. She's not that mean. Right?
... Huh. Interesting.
Easy. I gave her a copy of the script.
You're welcome to try.
I have no doubt that IF she wanted to, Gilda could seriously injure or outright kill Rarity or Twilight. But, it's telling of her sapience and patience that she's willing to see where this goes.
Presumably to make the process more efficient.
Probably.
How strenuous IS the stunt you're about to pull?
Oh my.
This is some Who's On First shit, you realize.
My god this is Who's On First.
Of course that's a thing.
... She's great. Best horse.
And that is why she is Best Horse.
I can imagine.
Loopholes!
I'm with Gilda on this one. There's no telling what will happen if this process is interrupted halfway.
Huh, interesting.
I, I got nothing. That's impressive.
Yep. It's telling of how big her reserves are that she could pull this off in the first place.
Yes.
Of course.
Heh!
Not unfair.
11453760
Thanks! Trixie is a lot of fun to write.
11455544
Fun fact: While the dynamic between Twilight and Trixie had been planned in advance, the dynamic between Gilda and Rarity evolved throughout these chapters and will continue to do so for the next few.
AU or not, she's still Celestia. But she worked hard to establish a certain reputation.
Fiend!
I 100% made myself giggle while writing that part.