The sadist, while admittedly the supporter of an unpleasant concept, at least makes some degree of sense in my mind. If there was no schadenfreude, large stretches of history would go unexplained: unnecessarily cruel behavior towards others has been far too prolific throughout the course of time. Conversely, I’ve never really understood the mindset of a masochist. I’m not referring to the lonely, self-flagellating brand of masochism either.

What was always unfeasible to me was how some individuals manage to cross their emotional wires and forge a connection between pain and - well - sensual pleasure. I may not be the leading expert on all things erotic - okay, maybe anything erotic - yet you’d be hard pressed to find someone better versed in the art of frequently receiving pain: I almost bit off my tongue when I was three; the back right leg of the piano bench broke off and impolitely introduced my skull to the floor. I broke my first bone when I was seven, an innocent accident thanks to little Jenny Carpenter’s ‘accidental’ overspinning of a merry-go-round which ended with me sprawled ten feet away, leaving my arm pointed at a funny angle towards the swing-set bar it landed on. That was the first of many fractious fractures and unsurprisingly, not the last to involve Jenny.

My expertise in pain goes beyond the occasional serious traumatic experience; however, plenty of things happened day to day. I had a reputation as a natural bee and hornet repellant: if I was within a hundred meters, it was almost a sure thing that the little buggers would leave everyone else alone. I have fallen down stairs repeatedly, run into trees, and have a high probability to trip on anything protruding out of the ground more than a centimeter, often times twice on the same obstruction. I bring all this up not to garner sympathy, but rather to illustrate the breadth of my experience with predicaments that make the nerve endings scream.

At no point in the wake of a single accident did I stop and think, wow, that was sexy. At no point did stubbing my toe or running into a door somehow trigger the arousal process. When I was inexplicably tackled by a Gabourey Sidibe look alike during an allegedly ‘friendly’ game of powder-puff football, my thought process was less oh yeah! punish me! more URGLE GURGLE CAN’T BREATHE OH GOD MY SPLEEN. Pain and pleasure had never really intermingled for me, nor had I ever considered them potentially connected. They had nothing to do with each other, as far as I was concerned- ironically, that was right around the time life decided to educate me otherwise.

The door to Fluttershy’s cottage opened slowly at first, almost slamming open seconds later as the nature of our visit came to light, the sudden motion almost jarring enough to knock Dash out of the air.

“Oh no!” She ushered us both in before hovering around me, appraising my condition fretfully. “Whatever happened?” Dash and I shared a grudging glance, trading silent insults.

“Just over-exerted myself during my workout, ‘Shy. Got a little over-confident and bit off more than my body could handle.” It had nothing to do with being attacked by an angry smurf.

Fluttershy trotted to the sink and began to wash her hoofs. “Rainbow, help Kate get undressed while I clean up; it shouldn’t be too long.”

Er excuse me? “I can get it myself-“ stars flew in front of my eyes, as the workout shirt was lifted over my head, the section that was partially fused to the open wound making a ripping noise that hurt about a thousand times worse than it sounded. My only remaining dignity now took the form of my sports bra and yoga pants. I stared at Rainbow openly-who was looking more than a little guilty holding the shirt in her mouth- silent for a few moments. “Ow.”

She looked away, turning a light shade of pink. “I’ll let you get those,” indicating my lower body.

Um. No. Hell no. “I think I’ll keep them on, thanks.”

“Fine, don’t blame me if you get an infection.” She smirked. I looked down and realized unhappily that she was right. The pants were covered in grass and bits of dirt from our tumble out in the field, and keeping them on while Flutters was operating wouldn’t be particularly sanitary. I reached down with a sigh and untied the drawstrings, suppressing a snort when Dash turned away, embarrassed. She turned back after a moment, enraptured by the embarrassingly pink boyshorts Rarity had designed per my request, though the color was her idea of ‘artistic license.’ “There’s more?” Dash gawked, “How many layers are there?”

“Not nearly enough,” I retorted, shivering from the sudden lack of warmth. “Clear something up for me. What’s with the pony fixation on pants?” Dash held up her hoofs in a failed attempt to look oblivious. With one hand still pressing the towel against my waist, I placed the other on my bare hip admonishingly. “You know, I could have told Fluttershy what actually happened-“

“Shh shh shh,” Dash hissed, glancing over to make sure Fluttershy was still out of earshot. “Fine. They just sort of- erm- unnecessarily complicate the plot.” For a moment, I thought Dash was taking a page out of Pinkie’s book, but she looked uncomfortable enough discussing it I decided not to stop her and ask for clarification.

“How so?”

Dash rolled her eyes. “Well, I mean everypony has a plot right? Like a cutie mark. Sometimes it’s obscured, usually though it’s just out there in the open, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Your plot is your plot, and nopony draws attention to it because they have a plot of their own.”

Note to self: ‘Plot’ seems to be slang for fate. However, I have yet to see how this is culturally connected to pants.

“If I understand correctly, when I’m covering up my cutie mark, in a way I’m covering up my plot? Metaphorically speaking?”

“Generally yes,” She shrugged. “Why hide something that everypony has?”

It was beginning to make some degree of sense from a philosophical standpoint. ”So it’s sort of a cultural view that plot shouldn’t be hidden because it’s not something you choose, it’s something thrust upon you?”

“No! Well, I mean- I wouldn’t thrust my plot on just anypony… er, unless it was a mutual thing.” Dash fidgeted uncomfortably with the admission.

I nodded. “Considering the societal focus on predestination, I’d assume the meshing of two plots is sacred.”

“Er-, well it’s definitely not something you’d do on the first date.”

“Maybe it’s better that way.” I said gloomily, watching as Fluttershy somehow managed to make the act of rolling a big tube of plastic wrap over her table look dainty. “Maybe involving myself in somepony else’s plot is too big of a responsibility.”

“I dunno,” Dash followed my gaze, looking over to Fluttershy. “She’s a little quiet sometimes, but dang. If she hadn’t always had a wing-boner for princess moody, I totally would have tapped that plot-” Dash cut herself off abruptly, covering her horrified expression with both forehooves.

“Yeah…” My head snapped around as the words registered. “Wait- What?”

Dash tried to meet my stare blankly. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what?’ you just said-“

“I said nothing. Noooo-thing.”

Face met palm as my understanding of the entire conversation shifted.

Note to self: Disregard previous note. Suffice it to say that my interpretation of plot was highly over-complicated.

My downfall was a lack of attention to my surroundings. In retrospect, I saw Fluttershy brushing her teeth rather thoroughly, even going so far as to gargle mouthwash. I just made the mistake of not thinking it through: It’s not really a bad thing if your impromptu paramedic has an obsession with cleanliness, right?

“Alright, go ahead and lay down.” Grunting as I carried out her orders, I laid back on the plastic covered table. There was a strange jolt up my spine when she leapt up quietly, golden coat brushing against bare skin. I tried not to think about the fact that this was the first time we’d had any sort of close contact since that night at the hospital.

Her blue eyes looked at me sympathetically. “I- I’ll be as gentle as I can, but this is probably going to sting a little.” I nodded, grimacing as a small splash of rubbing alcohol sizzled on the wound. “Rainbow? If you don’t mind-um, could you hoof over that baggie of ice?” Dash looked downright uncomfortable at the sight of Fluttershy sitting astride my lap, a feeling I could certainly empathize with.

“Actually- I had a thing-“ She stopped as Fluttershy stuck out her lower lip. “Oh buck it” Dash muttered, bringing over the baggie, which she passed by mouth to Fluttershy. I think it was about right then that it hit me. How was she going to thread the needle? The icepack was placed just below my belly button, held gently against the damaged area with a hoof. My resulting shudder was a combination of the cold and something else.

“Sorry- I just want to make sure it’s as numb as possible before we start.”

“No- it’s fine, you’re… sweet.” What followed was a moment of painfully silent eye-contact. This was the worst. I wasn’t ready to deal with it -not by a longshot- yet there I was, trying my best not to drown in the infinitely deep blue pools of her eyes. RUN! An inaudible voice seemed to scream, RUNRUNRUNRUNRUN-

“So- er, how ‘bout those Thunderbolts?” Dash interjected awkwardly.

“Thunderbolts you say? I’ve never heard of them!” I baited her quickly, more than a little appreciative for the icebreaking lifeline as well as the large volume of Thunderbolt related information that followed. To be frank, I wouldn’t have cared if she was waxing poetic on the structure of Equestrian tax law; any distraction would do. After a few minutes, Fluttershy removed the ice-pack.

“It’s probably better if you don’t look,“ she warned, “try to keep your mind off of it and keep talking to Rainbow while I work.” I wasn’t overly concerned with a couple of stitches; the more pertinent problem was where she was located and where her tail seemed to accidentally brush every so often. I turned back to Dash, smiling thinly. All I had to do was grit my teeth, and Fluttershy would thread a needle using her hoofs, appendages I knew from experience were not capable of precision. Yet I ignored the fatal gap in my logic. She’ll just use magic or something. Warm fuzzy light, couple of sparks, and viola! Magnetic hoofs for the win.

Oddly, both hoofs were still pressed firmly against my mid-section. A moment later, Dash was my only indication that something was seriously amiss. For a moment, she looked away from me at Fluttershy, and her jaw-dropped. For a moment, I felt warm breath on my abdomen, right before stars exploded behind my eyes. Looking back, magic isn’t necessarily a bad descriptive term for what happened. It was just a very, very different kind of magic: A dark magic, with incredibly disturbing implications. Using her hoofs to carefully angle the course of the needle, Fluttershy was manipulating it with her tongue. A very soft, moist tongue, which thanks to proximity, was brushing an area north of the nether regions, but far too south for comfort. I did the only thing a sensible person would do.

I teleported. Well, not literally. If nothing else, Equestria has done wonders for my shadow-step. One bolt of adrenaline later and I was on the other side of the room, having disarmed Fluttershy and distanced myself. “You know? Actually I just realized I can do this myself” –My voice was several octaves too high, and I had no idea what I was doing- “I’ve totally sewn stuff before” –Yeah. More like tried to crochet a quilt, which then had to be euthanized- “See! Look at my hand! Steady as a su-su-surgeon,” –One in the middle of a nervous breakdown, maybe.

My inner voice had a point. Dehydration and blood-loss don’t really make for reliable appendages- though, I suspect, they weren’t the only factors. Worse yet, the moment my adrenaline abandoned me, my leg muscles immediately responded in subterfuge by sending me stumbling, completely off balance. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears.

“Kate-” Fluttershy started.

“I’m good, just, gimme a second-“ Rainbow Dash propped me up the moment I might have tipped over, unintentionally sending me reeling the other way

“Kate- SIT.“ There it was. Fluttershy’s stare: The moment her sapphire eyes turned indigo, dark pools hinting at unfathomable depths beneath. Without another thought, I complied and returned to the table, unable to even consider an alternative option. She’s going to have her way with me, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. Resistance is futile.

Much to my relief, the intensity in her gaze vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Instead she looked down on me with a somewhat mournful expression, pink hair forming its familiar canopy around my head.

“I can go get Twilight, and Twilight can carry you to the hospital… if- if that’s what you want. You need to calm down so you don’t hurt yourself. I only do stitches in emergencies, I-I wanted to try because I knew you didn’t exactly enjoy it at the hospital last time. I just want you to be ok.” Guilt flooded in, smacking me across the face. Of course she wouldn’t force me to do anything, other than to stop staggering around the room with a needle pointed at myself like a drunken idiot. Pull it together Kate. You’re acting like a child.

“No, that would be stupid and inconvenient for everypony. I trust you.”

“I’m really happy to hear that...” She was dangerously close to pulling me in with her eyes again.

“Sure is sunny outside!” Rainbow observed loudly, pushing back the curtain, pointedly not looking at the embarassingly intimate exchange. “Perfect day for flying- sweet thermals, light draft. Flying is swell. You know what, I think I may go practice. Flying, and all. Because I like it. Not because I’m running away. See, not running- walking all casual-like. Laters!” She waved a hoof to both of us, and trotted hurriedly over to the door.

“Well I was going to ask you to help hold her down. Since it seems to be a ticklish spot for her, she might even accidentally twitch while I’m working and hurt herself… um… if that’s okay with you…” she turned to me, “and you, of course.” I wasn’t a fan of the whole ‘restricted movement’ concept, but after the stunt I’d pulled, I wasn’t really in a position to complain. Dash seemed far less inclined to cooperate, eyes bouncing back and forth between myself, Fluttershy, and the door.

“It’s no big deal if you need to go; I think I have some rope in my basement I could use instead.” Fluttershy muttered. I froze, and Rainbow froze- an impressive maneuver when one is hovering in mid air. Aside from a single exception when I was six years old at the mall and my dad made the fatal mistake of taking me by a dippin’ dots stand, I have never begged anyone (or anypony) for anything. But in that moment, I gave Rainbow Dash the biggest puppy dog eyes in the history of Kate Winsor. Pretty-pretty-please-with-lots-of-frosting-and-sprinkles-with-a-cherry-on-top-oh-bestest-friend-forever-

“Alright, alright… sheesh. What would anypony do without me around here.” She grumbled. As Fluttershy returned to the sink to clean her hoofs once more, Dash whispered loudly in my ear. “Luna’s pockmarked flank! You said you were kidding about the basement.”

“I thought I was kidding!” I hissed back, equally unsettled by the information.

“You don’t think she has whips and latex down there-“ Dash’s conspiratorial whisper was a bit too loud.

“Um, some of both, actually.” Fluttershy answered the question as she nestled in my lap again, rethreading the needle. “I’d never use the whips to harm an animal of course, that would be horrible.“ She shuddered at the thought. “The cracking sound is more than enough to scare away a pack of feral timber-wolves if they stray too far from the Everfree. I also have latex booties for cleaning.” Dash seemed a little too interested, snickering at my discomfort.

“What else you got in there?”

“Oh not too much, just the usual stuff, though most of it’s only for emergencies.” She took in a deep breath when Dash insisted, “Um, it’s kinda boring, but if you really want to know: lots of different restraints made of different materials and sizes, clamps, muzzles, microscopes, all three main types of syringes in various sizes and measurements, clothespins, chains, red bouncy balls with adjustable straps that make it easier for pegasi and earth ponies to throw, spikey horseshoes for climbing, a couple of hamster wheels, attachable weights for physical therapy, blindfolds and earmuffs for nocturnal little animals in loud environments, a tofu-turkey baster, and a copy of Alicorn Shrugged.”

“Alicorn… Shrugged?” I asked, more than a little overloaded.

“Mhm. I love Princess Cadance’s writing. Her dissection of ancient Draconic dystopia through the lens of modern objectivism is unparalleled.”

“Well uh, who doesn’t love dystopia?” Dash noted flippantly, making a valiant attempt to look like she wasn’t still working out the meaning of ‘unparalleled.’

After holding the blunt end of the newly threaded needle in her mouth for a moment, Fluttershy released it into an upturned hoof; the previously loose thread was tightly tied. I stared at the feat aghast; Rainbow plopped to the floor, her wings rising to attention. You know that flighty blonde girl at sorority parties- well, flightier- blonde girl at sorority parties, the one who’s always showing off how she can tie a cherry stem in a knot with her tongue? Fluttershy would have eaten her alive- er, so to speak.

“Um, are you both ready?”

I grunted and put my hands above my head. Dash pinned my arms, the grin on her face indicating she was enjoying the poetic reversal of our previous situation a little more than she should have. While I tried not to watch Fluttershy work, some part of me couldn’t help it. It hurt, the first couple passes, but at some point the pain gave away to a much baser burning in my gut that compacted every time her tongue made contact with skin, a feeling I tried desperately to write off as anxiety.

Looking away was almost impossible. Her movements were hypnotic and methodical, yet maddeningly precise: Brush… pull… brush… pull… After what felt like hours- it was much more likely seconds- I hissed as her tail flicked my upper thigh; it was a mannerism I’d noticed previously, a sort of nervous tick that came out when she was intently focused.

She paused, her sympathetic eyes filled with concern. “Sorry! Too fast? I can stop if you want me to stop.” From the way Dash was turning red, I assumed I wasn’t the only one who heard another meaning in the words. Honestly, I almost lost it at that moment, only calming down after I tested her grip. A competitive leer crossed Dash’s face as she tightened it in response

“Keep going… I’ll be fine.” As Fluttershy moved back down I felt a simultaneous lurching impulse, one that was both embarrassing and incredibly out of place for someone in the process of getting stitches. “On second thought, could you pass me that towel?”

On the outskirts of Ponyville:

Tonight’s the night. Six years, and I’ve finally come full circle. A lone pony stood at the crest of the hill, taking in the rustic vista with a sigh of giddy anticipation. Adjusting her hat carefully, the blue unicorn looked up at the sun and smiled wickedly. Judging from its position in the sky, it was high noon. If she hurried, there would be just enough time to make preparations. So much to do, so little time, she mused. Tonight, she would overcome the fear, the anxiety, and the dignity that had been stolen away from her.

The first months of training had been hard, brutal even: Her pilgrimage through the Neighponese mountains alone had taken months; locating the temple of the Howlin Monks had taken almost the entire year following her downfall.

As a group that was almost mythical for its expertise in the arcane arts, she had expected it to consist primarily of unicorns; it was an assumption that couldn’t have been more off base. Climbing a thousand steps only to find Diamond Dogs: Go figure. The initial disappointment had been as short-lived as the first encounter itself.

The long, stone hallway was as empty as it was vast, dead silent, its only inhabitants sitting cross-legged on either side. Murals covered the concave ceiling, murals of canines fighting alongside an ancient civilization of ponies the unicorn had never seen.

“What do you seek?” The meek question came from the shadows to her right.

Trixie spun, looking for the source of the voice. The diamond dog was smaller than average, just barely taller than her. Considering how heavily the dog was leaning on his cane, it wasn’t a particularly impressive first impression.

“Whatever I’m looking for, I don’t think it’s here…” Speaking about herself in the third person had grown tiresome in Equestrian, before the language barrier had even become an issue. Referring to herself as ‘Trixie’ didn’t sound nearly as inspiring without the ‘great and powerful’ prefix, one she had refused to use after her disgrace. Not to mention, her knowledge of the Neighponese dialect wasn’t nearly fluent enough to attempt said feat of language.

“An answer cannot be given if the question is uncertain. For many years we have followed in his footsteps, searching for truth in the teaching of the great one who came to us years ago.”

“And you follow the teachings of this ‘great one?’”

The dog had nodded somberly, an oddly equine expression. “Once, we served as simple guardians, protecting the secrets of this place from all who came before. In his quest for unity, The Great One opened our eyes, showed us our true calling. Since that day, we have faithfully followed the words of the great master who cannot be seen, transcribing the words of a voice which cannot be heard unless it is called.”

“I seek the old magic- the path to true power.” Trixie had snapped. “Not fanatical mutterings and riddles in the gloom.”

“Have you considered the cost of such an endeavor?”

With a sigh, the unicorn sat down, her legs still quivering from the climb as she retrieved a small pouch from her saddlebags. The pouch was dishearteningly light. “All I have left is a few dozen Equestrian bits along with a couple of bars.”

“Be that as it may-” His sightless eyes studied her, unblinking. “I will ask once more. Have you considered the cost?” The emphasis on the last syllable was unmistakable, so much so the unicorn felt the hackles on the back of her neck rising, the humidity entirely forgotten as a chill ran down her spine.

“I have.” She hadn’t, she would realize later. Not even close. “The path that led me here has already taken a toll- I’m no longer the same mare I was when I took the first step. If you hold the answers I seek, then I am willing to learn.” She hesitated for a moment. “No matter the price.”

The monk extended his arms to his sides. Though the movement was slow, his body had previously retained such a motionless serenity that the slow gesture was almost startling. The unicorn watched him, wary.

“If you will not be dissuaded with words, then strike me.” The challenge was absurd enough to knock Trixie completely out of the trance-like state the monk’s previously cryptic speech had lulled her into.

“You want me to attack you- with magic?” she asked, incredulous.

“Hoofs or horn, either choice will lead to the same outcome.” While the proposition was ridiculous, Trixie was becoming more than a little fed up with the monk’s condescending babble. Her dignity as a performer was damaged beyond repair, but her pride as a unicorn was still intact. She wouldn’t overdo it; her opponent was a blind, older looking diamond dog after all; a simple stun spell would suffice. Her horn glowed brightly, magic taking form as quickly as it always had. She lowered her head and launched the spell directly at the Monk’s midsection. The smug smile was wiped off her face the second she looked up. The monk had flipped his staff horizontally, catching the spell with a gem encrusted at the top of his staff. Trixie backed away in fear as the captured glow grew in intensity, becoming increasingly brighter. She gathered magic, mind still in shambles on what to cast.

The monk frowned. “Lesson one: Indecision breeds downfall.”

“What- GUH!“ Trixie flew back as her own bolt struck her squarely in the chest, impacting with exponentially more force than it had originally retained. The sudden change to outdoor lighting brought a single realization to her mind. “Oh BUCK me not the stairs.”

There are many unwritten rules in the universe, rules that she innately knew to be true. On any given day: water ran downstream, alicorns were immortal, ponies will always steal from unattended apple trees, and Trixie -great and powerful or otherwise- simply. Did. Not. Bounce.

THUD

‘It would appear that laws were made to be broken,’ she mused. Or rather, that was what she mused about musing, much later on. At that particular moment, her thoughts were more along the lines of ‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH-‘

THUD

Her first impact had landed her somewhere between the fifth and tenth stair from the top. Oh how she had whined, tears welling in her eyes. However, that was the first impact, and as she experienced the second (located somewhere between stair seventeen and nineteen), she suddenly found herself reminiscing fondly on her memories of the first. The first had only hurt her out of necessity, gravity and whatnot. It didn’t hate her, unlike the second.

THUD

The sound of a cracking rib on the third impact served as an audible exclamation point for the following epiphany: The second bounce hadn’t actually hated her! It had only hurt her because it cared.

THUD

THUD

THUD

THUD

THUD

THUMP

THUMP

THUMP

THUMP

Boink

Boink

Boink

Boink

Blap.

Her bouncing finally ceased somewhere between the five-hundred-and-fourth and five-hundred-and-second step from the top, Its ending accompanied by a long moment of silence. As it was a particularly ‘live’ step that been kind enough to stop her, the sound reverberated off the stone when she finally opened her mouth, carrying across the Neighponese mountains for miles: There were no words to describe the sad noise that escaped her lips: partially due to its nature of being a sound pathetic beyond description, and partially because it also seemed to be strangely open to interpretation:

A particularly superstitious rice farmer who heard the cry looked up with a start, her pointy wicker hat falling away as she searched the sky for the prophesied four riders of the alpacalypse.

Likewise, a soldier who heard the sound mistook it for a familiar mewling, a sure sign that his superiors had gone too far in questioning with one of the local Pandas. He moodily pondered the ethical implications of torture: ‘does the end really justify the means?’

Lastly, a buzzard of particularly ill repute heard the noise and flew off towards it hastily with an evil giggle, unable to believe his luck- What were the chances of snacking on not one, but two quadriplegic orphaned baby bunnies in one day?

Indeed, there probably wasn’t another creature in Equestria capable of making that noise- though on the off-chance there did so happen to be a tortured, supernatural-quadriplegic-hybrid-baby-panda-bunny-orphan out there, it was probably more than a little pissed that in spite of all its hardship, it wasn’t even getting points for originality anymore. Said creature’s existence would also prove the previously unfathomable possibility that something out there was actually in the process of having a worse day than Trixie.

Trixie smiled at the memory fondly. That tumble down Howlin’ temple’s steps had been the first of many. The stairs had grown on her like a gaggle of affluent and domestically abusive friends- with every bruise came the gift of knowledge, while every broken bone and dislocated appendage built character. Granted there were downsides, mainly the ever growing catalogue of bruises, broken bones, and dislocated appendages.

Throughout the ordeal, she didn’t always stand back up immediately. Sometimes she cried, sang a hymn, or stared blankly up into the sky- once she even peed a little. But she never retreated a step below the one she landed on. The Howlin’ Monks held true power, every rebounded spell that hit her only cementing that resolve, dissuading her doubts to the contrary. Finally landing a spell on the monk ranked among her most cherished moment.

That hadn’t been the end of it, oh no. That had been the beginning. Her globetrotting journey had taken her through the Zaharan plains, the seedy back alleys of Prance, across the great wastes of the lesser Draconic isles, and into the very heart of Stalliongrade to name only a paltry few.

She had learned from the greatest magical minds in the world: present, past, and once even from the future. She had rode into conflicts between nations, made dear friends, bitter enemies, and lost a few of both to tragedy. She fell in and out of love with ponies both familiar and exotic before finding her soulmate, a pony unlike any other. Her performing had greatly improved; a chance encounter with an alluring voice teacher in an otherwise forgettable town awakened a love for music that Trixie had spent years totally oblivious to. Music led her to a new title, a new name she herself rarely spoke of, one that graced the tongue of only the most foolish or daring of souls, and was never uttered more loudly than a whisper- Bellatrix the bard, mare of myth; A meddling master manipulator who had allegedly wrought entire nations to their knees. Granted, the rumors of ‘Bellatrix’s’ exploits had been greatly exaggerated: She had only brought one nation to its knees, and even that had been one part luck, two parts gargantuan misunderstanding.

When the town finally came into view, Trixie felt her heart leap into her throat, pulse racing wildly. The feeling was ridiculous. After everything she’d been through, this step should have been small potatoes; As a matter of fact, she had almost talked herself out of coming. Why even make the effort? After everything she’d been through, visiting a backwards little town in the middle of nowhere should have been completely insignificant.

… Yet it wasn’t insignificant. It never could be. Humble as it was, this was the town that broke her, the town from which she emerged reborn. This was where it all began. Returning here was more than a simple refrain, it marked the end of a journey- a concurrent funeral and christening: the death of a magician and true birth of something better. She levitated the flyer in her hoofs, looking it over carefully as she’d done a thousand times before

The invitation background held the appearance of shimmering navy silk, giving off just the right air of frivolity and enigma. Everything was perfect. There had been a huge turnout last time for the one-upping braggart she used to be. Assuming nothing had really changed, this turnout would be massive. Using her real name was risky, though not as risky as it might have seemed: Ponyville was particularly insulated, while the name “Bellatrix” was most infamous in international hotspots. Judging from past experience, she would have been surprised if anypony recognized the name this far out in the country. Even if they did, what kind of ‘master manipulator’ puts on a show for free?

The thought of torching Ponyville to the ground, laughing maniacally as the ponies responsible for so much of her pain finally received their just desserts had admittedly been a recurring fantasy. However, it was a fantasy that had faded with time, and also been seriously blunted from the experience of being in a town that was torched, and watching as the villain laughed maniacally. Trixie also knew, albeit from a much more personal experience that revenge was pointless, leaving nothing but emptiness in its wake.

In truth, the only nefarious part of her plan was the very fact that it wasn’t nefarious in the slightest. It was simple; under the guise of a magic musical storytelling extravaganza, she would perform magic, play music, and tell stories. There would be laughter, tears, and finally- glorious applause. After said victory, she would smile and take a bow, silently bidding adieu to Ponyville forever as the modest firework show she’d prepared exploded overhead. It was a personal victory, simple, perhaps even a little cliché. But it would be her cliché.

The first house on the outskirts of town was a cottage, its exterior brimming with an impressive variety of wildlife, almost littered with birdhouses. For a moment, her courage faltered. What if… what if they remember me? Removing a mirror from her bag, she looked herself over carefully, the first glance almost completely allaying her fears. The pony who looked back from the mirror was almost a stranger. Her face was gaunter than before, a side effect of strenuous activity and time spent on the move. Her silver mane was swept back, casually cascading behind her ears to just below her shoulders. An ugly scar ran just below her eye, but more significant were the eyes themselves; purple had given way to a luminescent tint of silver, a shade not dissimilar from the tint of her hair- It was the hardest change to accept, as it served as a constant reminder of- well, that’s a story for another time.

The garb had experienced almost as drastic a change, foalish star patterns on the hat and cloak had been replaced with shimmering dark navy alternatives. The various patterns, nature, and origin of the new hat and cape held a great degree of significance-

A tell-tale rub from a certain fuzzball brought a smile to her lips. The scarlet tabby rubbed against her reassuringly, vying for her attention. Replacing the mirror in her bag, she knelt down, completely unconcerned with dirtying her appearance. Bard and Tabby regarded each other quietly, tired souls basking in each other’s company. Trixie stroked the cat’s ears affectionately.

“You know, I hadn’t seen you since the trip back home, old friend. I was beginning to worry you weren’t going to make it at all. Yes, I know you always land on your feet and whatnot, but last time was different.”

Herring meowed inquisitively, as if to ask the unicorn what exactly she was doing in the middle of somepony’s front yard.

“Hesitating, of course. It’s the first step of the last step. You know me, I always choke at the critical moment.”

“Meow, meow meow meow.” The scarlet cat retorted, rolling its eyes.

“Ironic insult coming from you, old friend. You’re right though, I’m being a bit of a… -coward. Thanks for the push.” A few steps up the path Trixie stopped, turning back to the tabby. “Stick around while I pass these silly things out, if there’s time before the big show I’ll treat you to dinner.”

“Meow!”

Trixie smiled. Things were going much better than she could have hoped for. The unusual optimism lasted a whole of thirty seconds. She raised a fore hoof to knock on the cottage door, and froze. Something unnatural was going on in the house, the mana was faint, almost twisted. There was a hidden taint to the undercurrent; more notable in its subtlety, as such raw power was rarely so thoroughly suppressed. I’ve felt a stronger version of this before… but where?

“Do you love me, Trixie?”

Her eyes shot open.

NO.

Aphrodimane was meant to have been banished to Taurtarus for eternity, locked forever in its ninth circle. Trixie snarled, crouched low as she circling around to the window, her previously lightly clicking hoofs now completely silent. Many of her encounters were littered with close calls, but the hunt for Aphrodimane had been particularly harrowing. She had paid far too high of a toll in blood for the demon to simply escape through some metaphysical loop hole. Why is it deities never seem to keep their promises-

Er. What?

As there hadn’t been some sort of cosmic double-cross, loophole, or cheat that had resulted in the rebirth of goddess “screw Trixie over in every way possible,” Trixie should have been jumping for joy, offering up apologies to the various deities whose names she’d been mixing in to a rapid-fire stream of obscenities. However, the reality of the situation was far too baffling for said niceties. She could only conclude that in her haste, she’d stumbled upon some sort of twisted sexual rite. Her view from the side window obscured the more explicit details, but the motion and positioning was suggestive enough for her to fill in the blanks.

Two ponies were holding something down. Its hands and feet were slightly reminiscent of the diamond dogs, but that single similarity was where the parallel ended. It’s face was covered in white blanket or towel, a touch she assumed was meant to create sensory deprivation. She recalled the the pony facing the window all too well as ‘Rainbow Smash,’ a cyan pegasus who was hovering and holding down the creature’s upper body. At least, she assumed it was its upper body, considering what the other pony appeared to be doing from her current angle, pink mane bobbing steadily up and down.

Okay, bizarre, bestial, magic sex rite. Ponyville is pretty far out in the country after all, it could be worse-

The yellow pegasus turned and grabbed a tissue, giving Trixie an extremely enlightening side profile, as well as an excellent angle to watch as the pegasus dabbed blood off her muzzle.

Oh. Good. Pony-Carnivores. Much better than ‘magical sex rite.’ Also, I’ve definitely not seen her around before. Maybe she’s new.

Pega-nibbles didn’t really seem like the sort of pony that would enjoy a magic musical extravaganza that didn’t touch on cannibalism, and since as far as Trixie was concerned Rainbow Smash wasn’t worth the possibility of pissing off Pega-nibbles, she slunk away from the house diagonally in a stealthy scoot. Herring had disappeared, naturally, which left the unicorn with only one logical source of action:

That logical source of action being to pace the road furiously and talk to herself

Celestia’s flank, this is the Smirk Society all over again with bigger mice. And what did we learn from that experience Trixie? Pony carnivores always run in a pack, meaning that while you might be able to take those two pegasi down, a whole bunch of angry unicorns could come out of the woodwork. Maybe it’s always been a Ponyville thing? That would explain a lot, ‘Hi, we generally don’t like traveling performers but we’d love to have you over for dinner.’ Engaging would be a bad tactical decision, casting has been under the weather since that stupid dragon attacked my train. Seriously! What kind of dragon attacks a train? Go bug a treasury or high end jewelry store or something equally shiny like a normal flying lizard. But NO, you have to go for the passenger train with a car full of school-fillies and a SINGLE competent unicorn. ‘Oh, I know, I’ll just pretend like I’m going to fry the kindergartners and then hover out of range of the windows, so when that ONE competent unicorn is forced to climb up and attempt to launch spells from the top of a moving train, I can LAUGH. Hur-de-dur-de-dur.’ Bucking dragons. Okay, come on Bellatrix, concentrate. Obviously leaving now would be the smart thing, personal closure and whatnot being slightly lower on the list of priorities than not being an order on the menu. I’d rather live with regrets than nibble scars. But if I leave, what happens to that thing? Obviously it stays on the endless quick weight loss program with Pega-nibbles. Maybe it’s already dead. No, not dead, definitely saw it squirming. Didn’t seem particularly alarmed at the nether-nibbling either, which could be a bad sign of blood-loss. Well wait, maybe it wants to be eaten, like those colorful weird-flank demons in Bangkolt. Come on Trix make a decision, at a bit of a crossroads here. Oh look! How bucking funny! I’m pacing on a literal crossroad while at a metaphorical crossroads, Thank Luna’s flank for that-

THWACK

“Is she… breathing?” The chariot flyer asked in an irritatingly high pitched voice. A member of the royal guard nuzzled the unicorn gently before pressing an outturned ear to her heart.

“Ah’m sorry to say Sideswipe, but Ah think you just killed a pony.”

“Oh no!” The pegasus hid his face behind his wings dramatically. “Is there any possibility the fright of near collision just scared her to death?”

“Nooope. Ah think it was the landing on her head that did it. Well. Either that or these here tire tracks on her tummy. One or the other, ah don’t rightly think she had time to be scared to death.”

“This is too cruel- How can I live with all this guilt?” Sideswipe knelt down, distraught, cradling the blue unicorn in his arms.

“Uh- well how’d ya live with all the other guilt?”

“I’ve never done anything this detestable before.” He sniffed.

“Ah’m sorry to bring this up Sideswipe, but you do ‘member that elderly mare with the walker last week, right?”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeh. Not ringing a bell.”

“Oh, you know the one with a brown coat and blue mane?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“… The one that smelled like peach preservatives and liquid fear?”

“Oh, HER. No, that was a different issue altogether.”

“Care to ‘splain how?”

“I totally had the right of way.” Sideswipe shrugged. “This though, is truly reprehensible. Luna have mercy on her soul.”

“WE MAKE NO PROMISES FOR YOURS.”

Princess Luna’s mannerisms had slowly begun to normalize over the last couple of years, assuming certain pre-requisites were maintained: One being sleep, the other being general staff competence. Needless to say, both were in rather short supply- practically nonexistent. Unfortunately for Sideswipe, Luna’s lapse into use of the Royal Canterlot voice was only a result of being improperly addressed by a guard and awoken prematurely, along with the innate crankiness that came as a package deal with the several thousand healing paper-cuts. When she caught sight of the crumpled form of the pony in Sideswipe’s arms, her eyes widened furiously, voice slipping further into archaic.

“DIDST THOU ACTUALLY KILL A PONY?”

“Uh- it was an accident?”

“DIDST THOU AIM FOR SAID PONY?”

“She- uh, she jumped in front of me!” Placing the unicorn on the ground, Sideswipe cowered, backing away. “Gavenstein you saw it right?” the pegasus whined pleadingly.

“Ah’m sorry to say Sideswipe, Ah did not see that pony jump in front of you, mkay? Ah saw her walkin’ a tiny little circle in the middle of the street, lookin’ all sorts of conflicted. Then ah saw her lookin’ all squished like on the other side.”

Luna’s gaze turned slowly back to Sideswipe. “DIDST THOU… just lie… to thy princess?”

“No! I mean yes! I mean no!”

The Princess of the night glared daggers as her horn glowed and she directed her hoof to the ground, seeming to tear a black hole in the fabric of reality itself. “Hello little ones.” A thousand pairs of yellow eyes opened in the endless darkness, their light the only sources of illumination in the otherwise endless darkness. A throng of voices greeted the princess with happy hissing voices. “I apologize for the rude awakening, I wasn’t particularly appreciative of it myself. However such is life. At the moment, I find myself dealing with a problem pegasus.” Luna smiled at the cacophony of sympathetic hisses. “Indeed, his carelessness cost the life of a pony, after which he lied to his Princess. Would you be so kind as to take care of him, until Princess Celestia can see to his sentencing?”

Murmers of “Neeeew friiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeend” rose up from the darkness.

“Indeed. Thank you all.” Without further ado, Sideswipe was tossed into the hole of darkness, the gateway resealed before a single nasally whine could escape.

“Why oh why must I be surrounded by such incompetence.” Luna rubbed her forehead with a hoof.

“Uh, Ah was kinda wonderin’ that too.” Gavenstein observed.

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, usually – uh – you princesses go out with two guards, and two pegasuses. But this time you only took me an’ Sideswipe, and Ah don’t mean to talk bad about anypony, mmkay? But Sideswipe wasn’t exactly the sharpest crayon in the cookie cutter, if ya get my meanin’?”

Luna groaned, picking up the broken unicorn sadly. “I’m guessing they didn’t inform the reserve. Ninety percent of the Royal Guard is buried in paperwork.

“Uh- Couldn’t they take a break?

“No, as in they’re literally buried in paperwork.”

“That sounds kinda’ bad.”

“That’s why we’re here. To try and locate the anomaly.”

“Ah see. Uh, Princess Luna? Ah’m really sorry to say, Ah know Sideswipe wasn’t the best pony... and probably deserved to be thrown in an endless pit of darkness with a bunch of scary glowin’ eyes and all that, but how are we gonna’ get back without nopony to take the carriage?

“It's fine, I'm more than capable of flying myself back.” Luna flapped hers nonchalantly, still studying the unicorn with a frown.

“Oh.” The earth pony looked down unhappily. “Ah s’pose I can just walk then. Only a couple hundred miles or so-

“Ponyville has a train-station. More importantly, Gavenstein, do you know this mare?”

“Well I saw her once before, then after a thud and a bump I saw her again, ‘cept she didn’t look quite as lively.”

“I know for a fact that I’ve memorized the faces of everpony in ponyville. Either she’s very new or was just passing through. But I definitely know her from somewhere.” Luna lifted the unicorn’s limp body into the air and watched as her horn began to glow.

“Eh, Princess Luna? What are you doin with lil’ blue?”

“Preparing to cast a recollection spell. It will let me sift through her memories and identify the location of her family, so we can pay proper respects.”

“Oh, I’ve heard’a those, mah brother calls ‘em ‘truth laser’ spells

“Well, it follows the same basic principle, but you wouldn’t want to use this spell on a live pony.”

“Uh. Why?”

“While this spell allows for the most thorough gleaning of memories, it’s extremely invasive. If you used it on a live pony, it would probably turn her into a vegetable.”

“I’m not dead yet!” Trixie shrieked. Having seen the royal insignia on the wagon as it passed over her head, the unicorn had cast a spell to reduce her heart-rate and breathing. She couldn’t afford for the princess to identify her. Luna dropped the pony in surprise as Gavenstein fainted from the shock. “Sit, sit down.” Buck- I can’t outrun an alicorn. Trixie took a seat next to the princess, heart racing wildly, body still aching from the impact.

“Now, is anything broken?” Luna asked, voice far kinder than she had expected.

Just my spine- “No, I’m feeling good, all things considered.” Trixie lied.

“Tell me your name little pony, the fault was mine thus I will fly you home.”

“Oh no, that’s really not necessary.” Wait- IDEA! “Actually though, I heard screaming coming from that house over there.” She pointed a hoof at the cottage. “Really loud screaming and nashing of teeth.”

Luna’s expression turned ashen. “Coming from Fluttershy’s cottage? That is… alarming.”

“Well, I would come with you, but I have to go see a pony about a cat. Have a good day princess.”

“Wait-“ Luna picked up a flyer that had fallen out of the mare’s saddlebags, freezing when she read the text: The Ballad of Bellatrix the Bard. It couldn’t possibly be the Bellatrix the bard, could it? The pony whose name was uttered with such fervent terror throughout the dreamscape? Looking up from the flyer, Luna saw the mare hobbling, a much farther distance away than she had expected, teleporting every dozen steps or so to gain more ground. After a moment of consideration, the alicorn made her decision.

“Mist.”

“Yes, Princess?” The Captain of the Nightguard’s appearance was near instantaneous, as always.

“I want you to keep tabs on that unicorn. Treat her like a high profile target, don’t underestimate her. If she’s who I think she is, she’ll take you down in an instant if you so much as slip.”

Mist didn’t often question orders, but neither did the princess typically advise caution. “If I may ask, who exactly is she Princess?”

“If I’m right…” Luna trailed off quietly. “She’s somepony we can’t afford to lose track of. We need to know why she’s here.”

“It will be done.”

“Er, Thanks. Thanks a lot.” I stretched, still having a hard time making eye contact with Fluttershy. Putting the towel over my head had helped before my mind starting coming up with images to match the sensations I’d been feeling, which really wasn’t much better in the long run. In a couple of moments when I lost control and my imagination went wild it was definitely more harm than help. For some odd reason I kept imagining her in striped socks.

Dash appeared to be more than a little fed up with the awkward glance-fest. “Okay, we fixed Kate, so I’m gonna go now before things get really gross.”

“Very funny.”

“…Um, thank you Rainbow Dash for the help. Kate says thank you too.”

I gave Dash the pouty look again, silently begging her to stay. “Yeah, thanks.” You know you owe me dammit, holding my arms down doesn’t count.

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” She mimicked my intonation with a half-shrug. “Gotta go!”

In a matter of moments she was gone, leaving me alone with a lot of uncomfortable feelings directed at the pegasus I was sitting next to. Traitor. I glanced at Fluttershy and she looked at her hoofs. She looked at me and I suddenly found myself enraptured with the ceiling. There was a loud crash outside that jarred me out of my stupor, some sort of heavy impact.

“I- I should probably go to.” I stood and stretched. “Studying, part-time job and stuff.”

“Oh. Okay.” She nodded in acceptance, flipping her hair, finally maintaining eye contact. A thin smile was all I could manage as I tried to hide that a certain area of my body I’m not accustomed to openly communicating with seemed to be screaming bloody murder.

“Yeah- Um, I should go.”

“Okay. You could not go… if you want. We could talk.”

My stomach flipped “Yeah. I suppose I could talk for a while.” After a moment I sat back down, pretending not to notice the slight closing of distance between us.

“Or we could not talk,” Fluttershy offered nervously, “We could just sit here and… not… talk.”

Not talking was torture. The silence was inevitably broken.

“Fluttershy?” I asked, my voice unusually husky.

“Yes Kate?”

“Could we-“

“WE MAKE NO PROMISES FOR YOURS.”

Fluttershy’s pupils dilated in fear, eyes widening madly. “Oh no! Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no-“ The pegasus curled up on the couch in a panic.

Getting her to look at me was more challenging than I’d expected; she seemed very dedicated to the venture of lodging her head in the couch cushions. “Ok,” I finally managed pull her out of the cushions, falling back with her on the couch. Any thoughts towards the possibility that she was being a bit of a drama queen vanished when heard her trying hold back the hyperventilating. “This is the part where I say, Fluttershy, what’s wrong. And you say?”

“She’s here,” Fluttershy mumbled, “of all the times to visit she picks now.”

“That was her outside?” The pegasus nodded. “Well she seems kind of loud,” I noted grumpily.

“She’s getting better at her inside voice.”

“Not sure I want to hear her outsi-“ Then it hit me. “oh crap. I need to get rid of this.” I pointed to the mingle mark. “That was the deal, right? I’d get rid of it if she ever came to visit?”

“That’s what we said… butweweredrunkandIfeelreallybad.”

“No, no no. That’s totally fine. Since I have the glasses now I don’t really need it anyways, right?” The other me was talking. My own personal AI: The one who always swooped in and bottled up my emotions before they could cause any permanent damage, emptily acting the way I’d usually act without any consideration to current state of affairs. Standing up, I walked to the kitchen window, fake smile still plastered on my face. I hated it, I hated everything about it, but there was nothing to be done. I owed her, and I had promised. Betraying her trust now would be the lowest thing I could do.

“Um- Where are you going?”

“I’m going to let myself out the kitchen window so I don’t run the risk of her seeing me here.” Straddling the window carefully, I sat back for a moment, still more than a little sore. “Um, Flutters, come to think of it, how do I get rid of a mingle mark? I mean, I know the awkward way but…” I trailed off as a look of horror played across her face. “Wait. There is another way, right?”

“Maybe Twilight could work out a spell for us?” Fluttershy offered weakly.

Note to self: Magic is rarely convenient when you need it to be.

AN: Hey all. I suppose I should explain the whole ‘massive section of story from Trixie’s viewpoint thing.

It’s all Wrabbit’s fault.

Kidding, though reading his stuff was what got me interested in writing Trixie in the first place, along with a few other conversations in the comments. Basically, I promised she’d make an appearance, but I wasn’t sure exactly where to stick her in the plot. It started as a gag that got out of control; I wanted somepony to see the Rainbow/Flutters/Kate situation and misinterpret it in the worst way possible. Better yet, I thought, why not make that character kind of at the ‘end’ of her own ‘story arc,’ so you know, she gets completely derailed albeit unintentionally by Kate.

So I started writing fake Trixie... and somehow started writing actual Trixie- which in retrospect was kind of confusing. Thing is though, The only reason I put so much effort into it was I realized I quite like her. I like the idea of her traveling around the world, acquiring different skill sets, bettering herself in the process while working towards a goal, one that begins to lose meaning as she gains perspective. It wouldn’t just be an OC-fest, I’d be incorporating as many characters from the show as possible (without screwing up canon, which would probably mean leaving out the mane 6).

Let me know your thoughts. LP definitely has plenty of chapters left, but if it goes on forever it won’t be a parody anymore, I’ll be writing the same thing I’m poking fun at. I feel like Trixie has a lot of potential, so feel free to give me your opinion on how you’d like ‘Bellatrix the Bard’ as a protagonist of her own story. It would be a slightly darker comedy than LP with more dramatic elements, though there'd still be plenty of suggestive humor to go around. I laid a lot of the groundwork while I was writing this, so really the only thing that’s left is to choose between 1st/3rd person perspective. If I do go through with it, her scenes in this chapter will basically serve as an amusing flashforward.

Also, just for the record, I won’t be letting another character hijack the story again. I didn’t realize it was happening until it kind of happened, unfortunately, but I’ll be careful about that from now own

BIG big special thanks to Mr. Moniker and Meeester. So many errors cleaned up thanks to y’all, :D.