Chapter Ten

The Ripples and the Waves

Four days later.

Fluttershy’s eyes cracked open, and she felt an incoherent, sleepy mumble slip from her lips. She unconsciously settled closer to the unidentifiable warmth clutched between her forelegs, snuggling her cheek into the soft, yielding surface. A light scent filled her nostrils, not unlike wild mint, and her groggy, blurred vision was filled with a rich, sapphire blue.

With a sudden pang of horror, her eyes shot wide open. Her fears were instantly confirmed; both of her forelegs were draped unconsciously around Trixie’s midriff, and she had nestled her head into the soft curve of the unicorn’s neck. With an unpleasant shriveling sensation in the pit of her stomach, Fluttershy realized that it had happened again.

She felt a shameful heat creeping up the sides of her neck, and she tried to extricate herself from the embrace as subtly as possible, praying that she did not disturb the sleeping mare.

As she eased her left foreleg out from underneath Trixie’s belly, she let out a small sigh of relief. Her friend was still peacefully asleep, unaware of the affections that Fluttershy had unintentionally foisted upon her. The pegasus’s cheeks burned a dull, blotchy red with embarrassment, and she privately thanked Celestia that she tended to wake earlier than the unicorn.

She rolled over onto her back, deliberately putting several inches between herself and the supine unicorn, staring up at the ceiling. The previous morning had found Fluttershy entwined around the sleeping mare in exactly the same awkward embrace, but she had shrugged it off as an anomaly, perhaps a reaction to the night’s chill.

This morning, the cold was no longer an excuse. A nagging, guilty sense of violation bubbled in the pegasus’s stomach. She knew that if this continued, then one morning, Trixie was bound to wake up first. The last thing she wanted was for the pony in her care to think her clingy or overbearing. If any part of Fluttershy was going to betray her, she knew it would be her subconscious.

But what could she do? The mare behind the mask was so disarmingly empathic; she was so genuine in her desire to find herself, and in her refusal to hide any longer. Fluttershy’s eyes drifted to rest on Trixie’s sleeping face, and she felt herself gravitate a little closer to the mare. Her eyes lingered on the livid scar that ran its jagged path across the unicorn’s lower lip and chin, thankfully healed to the point where its dressing could be removed without fear of infection.

There was a warm glow in the unicorn’s cheeks, and her ribs no longer stood out visibly through her chest. Overall, the unicorn’s demeanour had seemed vastly more comfortable over the last few days, and the pegasus privately hoped that she would soon feel strong enough to meet the others, and give them the apology that she so wanted to make. She had made great progress, even over such a short time, Fluttershy reflected, leaning a little closer still.

She resisted the sudden temptation to caress a forehoof over the warm curve of Trixie’s belly, internally snapping at herself to not be so weak and idiotic. An unconscious reflex was one thing, but to reach out now would be a deliberate violation of the sleeping mare’s space and dignity.

But, the unicorn was so deliciously soft…

With a snort of inwardly-directed anger, Fluttershy shook her head sharply and rolled over, climbing to her hooves as quietly as she was able. A good, long session at the spa with Rarity should go some way to clear her fogged head. Over the last few days, the pegasus’s time with Trixie had made her feel as if she were living in a bubble, quite cut off from the rest of the world.

They had spent long evening hours walking the sun-gilded paths that bordered the Everfree, sharing interests and discussing snippets of this and that. Eventually, Trixie had felt able to open up a little, and had told Fluttershy of her old haunts in the forest. She told her of close encounters with bears and wolves, and of the tricks and skills she had been forced to acquire, in order to keep herself intact and fed.

In return, Fluttershy had told her companion stories from her childhood in Cloudsdale; of her parents, and of how Rainbow Dash had grown to be all but a sister to her.

Although neither of them acknowledged it, the mares developed an enjoyable system of trades, whereby every little tale or snippet that Trixie felt able to divulge was matched by one of Fluttershy’s. They whiled away many miles exchanging their lives’ little comedies and tragedies, hardly caring along which paths they were walking.

Looking back on the last few days, Fluttershy thought it had been an undeniably agreeable bubble in which to live. Nevertheless, a healthy dose of gossip would doubtless do her the world of good, and prevent her mind from wandering to the salacious, frustrated places she endeavoured to keep securely locked up. Provided she kept her distance from the sauna, at any rate.

Fluttershy had, of course, not abandoned her friends; the previous day, she had attended their weekly pet play-date. She had left with Trixie’s assurances that she would be fine on her own, but even so, leaving the vulnerable unicorn alone had played on the pegasus’s mind. More concerning still had been Twilight’s conspicuous absence at the park. The others had thought little of it, and had returned to their homes believing that the unicorn must simply have been snowed under with study tasks from the princess. Fluttershy, however, had walked back through Ponyville with another pebble of worry lodged and itching at the back of her mind.

Deliberately putting Twilight out of her mind, the pegasus trotted quietly across the room, drawing back the curtains to let in the weak, wintry light. She had arranged to meet Rarity at ten o’clock, as always, and she idly glanced around the room for her saddlebags and scarf. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the slow rise and fall of Trixie’s chest.

The mare shifted a little in her sleep, half-reaching out for a pony who was no longer beside her. The motion caused the tip of her horn to trace a line against the wooden headboard, and the unicorn let out a low hum of contentment, stroking a hoof along the pillow beside her, where Fluttershy’s head had lain minutes previously.

Fluttershy felt her wings twitch, for a reason she could not quite place. This was hardly an invasion of privacy, she reasoned; all she was doing was glancing fondly at her sleeping friend. Even so, the momentary observance felt unpleasantly voyeuristic to Fluttershy’s timid and comparatively innocent mind, and she made a rapid beeline for the kitchen, intending to put together a light breakfast before leaving for the spa.

With a sudden patter of paws, Angel bounded across the room and clambered up onto her back, clutching onto her mane with a proprietorial air. He cast a deeply suspicious look back into the bedroom, as if determined to catch sight of the interloper who had so rudely invaded his territory. The rabbit was ordinarily able to monopolize Fluttershy’s attention whilst the pegasus was at home, but since Trixie had arrived, that attention had been somewhat divided.

In fairness, he had taken it better than Fluttershy had expected; the majority of her property was still intact, and their unicorn guest had no fresh bite-marks to match the ones she had inflicted upon herself. Even so, it was with a grudging air that he began to eat the tomatoes and celery which the pegasus set down for him.

Humming quietly to herself, Fluttershy began to slice up some bread to make toast, checking the cupboard to see if her latest batch of blackcurrant jam had finished setting. The tune was punctuated by a yawn as she slipped the bread into the oven; somehow her sleep was far more restful when she knew it was shared with somepony, although deeper sleep had always tended to leave her more tired in the mornings.

As she waited for the bread to finish toasting, she set about putting away the previous night’s washing up, still humming idly. It would be nice to see Rarity; aside from their meeting at the park, she had to admit that she had been neglecting her friends a little.

Behind her, the sound of an egg cracking made her start a little, and she turned.

“You told me you’d let me help with breakfast.” Trixie’s tone was a little reproving, but her words were marred by a wide yawn, and she smiled at the surprised pegasus.

“I wanted to let you sleep,” returned Fluttershy, flushing at how easily startled she was. “I don’t mind bringing you breakfast, honestly.”

“I know you don’t, but one of these mornings you’ll have to give me a turn.” The unicorn smirked.

Fluttershy was unable to resist breaking into a timid grin. “That’ll be the day, sleepy,” she teased, poking out her tongue at the sapphire mare before turning back to the toaster. Angel was chewing irritably on a tomato, glaring daggers at the unicorn as if attempting to set her on fire with his mind.

“What’s that tune?” Trixie asked suddenly, taking up a whisk with her magic, and beginning to beat the eggs. “The one you were humming?”

Fluttershy thought back. “Oh, that?” She sighed, but it was not an unhappy sound. “I don’t even realize I’m humming it, half the time. It… it’s a lullaby, actually. Mom used to sing it to me. After dad left, I… I didn’t sleep so well for a while.” She smiled. “It’s a nice memory from back then, I guess.”

Trixie nodded, biting her injured lip with a deliberate lightness. The sounds of whisking momentarily ceased. “I’m… I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have asked. It’s just, you were humming it in your sleep, last night.”

The pegasus flushed again. “Oh Celestia, I didn’t know. Sorry, I don’t keep you awake, do I?”

“Don’t apologize.” The silver-maned mare smiled, shyly. “It’s beautiful. I fell asleep listening to it, so… well, I guess it works.” She returned her attention to the eggs. It was a few long moments before Trixie spoke again. “Fluttershy,” she said, with a sudden determination, letting the egg-whisk fall with a clatter into the bowl.

Fluttershy turned. “What is it?”

“I… I don’t want to be a burden like this anymore; I don’t want to be a secret. I feel ready; I’d like to meet your friends, and apologize to them.”

Fluttershy eyed the unicorn seriously for a few seconds. “Trixie…” She paused for a moment, searching for the best way to frame her thoughts. “You promise you aren’t just forcing yourself to do this because of me? Because I told you; you aren’t a burden. You can be a secret as long as you need to be. ”

Trixie nodded, and her expression was one of conviction. “I honestly feel strong enough; if I want to make progress, I need to face up to what I’ve done. I needed to hide while I got my strength back, but it’s more-or-less back now; if I wait any longer, it’d just be cowardice.”

Fluttershy met the unicorn’s gaze steadily. “If you really do feel ready, then that’s wonderful,” she said, quietly. Suddenly, the pegasus beamed, her eyes widening. “I’ve just thought of the perfect way to do it,” she exclaimed, her voice almost at an ordinary speaking pitch.

“How come?” Trixie asked, returning once again to the neglected bowl of eggs.

“Well,” she took in a deep breath, “Pinkie mentioned yesterday that she’s throwing a party the day after tomorrow at Sugarcube Corner. Sometimes she invites half the town, but every few weeks she puts on a party for just the six of us, plus any guests we want to bring along.”

Trixie smiled a little nervously, as she realized where this train of thought was leading.

“Anyway,” Fluttershy continued, “if you came with me, then it might be a lot easier. I mean, if we called everypony together specifically to meet you, it might be a little awkward, but at a party, everything might be a bit more… you know. Relaxed.”

The unicorn nodded, absently dropping a pat of butter into a frying pan on the stove. “That sounds perfect,” she said, gratefully. “But,” she broke Fluttershy’s gaze, “please let them know I’ll be coming in advance. I don’t want anypony to think I’m gatecrashing, and if I turn up unexpectedly, there might be awkward questions.”

Fluttershy smiled. “Deal,” she said, then sniffed the air, catching the acrid tang of burned toast. With a groan of annoyance, she whipped open the oven door, and pulled out the two slightly-blackened slices, before any more harm could befall them.

“Why don’t you use the toaster?” Trixie asked, bemusedly glancing at the cobwebbed contraption sitting unused on the kitchen surface.

Fluttershy threw it a dark look. “I tried for a while,” she admitted. “But I… I jumped out of my skin every time the toast popped up.” She spoke the words very fast, her voice small and embarrassed at the confession. She flushed, stealing a glance at the unicorn. Trixie was quite obviously trying hard not to giggle. “It’s not funny!” The pegasus pouted.

There was a moment of silence, in which Fluttershy glanced from the toaster to Trixie, the expression of mock-hurt still on her face, before both mares burst out laughing. “I really am a scaredy-pony, aren’t I?” Fluttershy asked, giggling despite her slightly rueful tone.

“I’m worse,” Trixie pointed out, smirking. “At least you’ve not been going out in a disguise all week!”

Fluttershy grinned, but inside she was relieved on a deeper level. The fact that Trixie felt able to joke about her fears in this way was encouraging, along with her desire to meet the others at last. She was not fully healed as yet, but she most certainly seemed mending. It was only half acknowledged, but Fluttershy could not repress a small, further sense of relief that Trixie had not abandoned her the moment she had felt strong enough to travel again. The pegasus had not, by any means, expected her friend to do so, but seeing her trust vindicated was inexpressibly gratifying.

Of course, that still left the problem of Twilight. Her grin slid like oil from her face as she remembered that darting, frightening look in the unicorn’s eyes. Hurriedly pushing the thought aside, she seized a butter-knife between her teeth, and began to scrape the worst of the blackness from the toast. “Are you alright with waiting a couple more days?” she asked after spitting out the utensil, more to break the sudden silence than anything else.

Trixie nodded, stirring the scrambled eggs with a magically-clasped spatula, a look of intense concentration on her face. The more fiddly acts of telekinesis apparently did not come easily to her. “Of course I am.”

Fluttershy turned, dropping the stack of rescued toast neatly onto a rack. She raised a cautionary eyebrow as a thought occurred to her. “Just… be careful if you decide to do any dancing.”

“Why would you say that?”

The pegasus shrugged, smirking. “You’ve never met Pinkie Pie, have you?”

“Ahh…” Rarity let out a low sound of contentment as she sank into the hot tub, rolling back her shoulders luxuriously and smiling at Fluttershy. “I need this, darling,” she confessed. “The commissions are simply flying in, and winter coats are hard work.” She shrugged. “I strive to make each one unique, of course, but I hope my clients feel I’ve retained my usual flair.” She sighed, a little dramatically. “Repetition has a way of sapping one’s je ne sais quoi, does it not?”

Fluttershy nodded, not entirely sure she could relate, but glad to be in her friend’s company nevertheless. She settled back in the water, letting her wings float out lazily on the surface.

“Anyway,” Rarity continued, leaning forwards, “do tell me what’s been going on.”

“Huh?” Fluttershy gave her friend a quizzical look.

The unicorn rolled her eyes, but smiled. “We’ve hardly seen you for days, darling. I’d have assumed you were having trouble with the animals, but when I asked Applejack about it, the poor dear didn’t know where to look.”

Fluttershy bit her lip. She felt a wave of gratitude towards Applejack for not divulging her secret, followed swiftly by a pang of guilt for the way she had treated the earth pony. Maybe Twilight had a point; maybe she was being a little overprotective. Even at this point, even now Trixie had explicitly asked her to tell her friends the truth, it pained Fluttershy to divulge the truth to Rarity.

Trixie had been her little secret; somepony with whom she could lie in the evenings, sharing idle, intimate conversation in the knowledge that the unicorn trusted her and her alone to keep her safe. Some tiny, selfish impulse on the back of her mind wanted more than anything to hold onto that monopoly.

But she could not. Kindness was, after all, a matter of self-sacrifice.

She gulped, wondering quite where to begin, and whether a green mane was something Rarity would be willing to forgive. She decided to attempt a condensed version of events; reiterating the story yet again was too much, particularly in such a relaxing environment. “Remember the Great and Powerful Trixie?” she asked, a little resignedly.

The unicorn leaned forwards, her interest piqued.

In hindsight, Rarity’s reaction was quite predictable. One long-ago incident of green hair, it seemed, was a perfectly acceptable trade for such sumptuous gossip. Fluttershy left out the more delicate parts of Trixie’s past, but nevertheless Rarity gasped her way through the tale in a satisfyingly melodramatic manner.

A burst of genuine anger flared in her expression when Fluttershy explained how she had come by the scabbed-over cut on her temple, but the alabaster mare seemed satisfied by Fluttershy’s defence of Trixie’s actions. She nodded understandingly at the pegasus’s explanation of her reclusive nature over the past few days.

“…So that’s it. She’s going to be coming to Pinkie’s party, this Saturday, so she can meet you all and apologize,” Fluttershy finished, nervously meeting her friend’s eyes.

Rarity was gazing appraisingly at her, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Fluttershy, in all seriousness…” she looked away for an instant, as if nervous. “I’m perfectly fine with this; I’m more than willing to let bygones be bygones, but… you are sure you can trust her, aren’t you? You are sure she won’t let you down?”

Fluttershy nodded, without hesitation. “I trust her,” she replied, firmly. “She’s not a bad pony; you never saw the real Trixie.”

“That brings me on to my second point, darling.” Rarity’s tone was light, but her eyes were perfectly serious. “That whole ‘Great and Powerful’ business; you honestly think it’s gone for good? You don’t think she might change back, one day?”

The pegasus was silent, for a moment. “I… I hope not,” she replied, honestly. It was the best she could offer. “I don’t think we can ever really be sure, not until—” she broke off. She knew perfectly well that if Trixie could work out the truth behind her talent, all of the feelings of inadequacy that the Great and Powerful side of her fed on would be swept away. Until then, there was always the possibility that she could regain a foothold. “Not until she’s better,” Fluttershy finished, a little lamely.

She sighed, looking shyly at the fashionista. “She’d be more prepared now; it’s amazing how much she’s coming on.” Fluttershy shrugged. “I trust her,” she added, simply.

Rarity smiled. “And I trust you, dear. If you vouch for her, then I’m more than happy to forgive, forget, et cetera.” She leaned forwards, conspiratorially. “But between you and me, I imagine Rainbow Dash and Applejack might be somewhat harder to convince. I imagine their prides might still be a little dented.”

Fluttershy gazed down into the water, wistfully making ripples with a forehoof. “I know,” she groaned. “I’ve already told AJ; she wandered by the cottage a few days ago, so I had to tell her. It was all I could do to stop her barging in and… well, she listened to me in the end, but I don’t think she’s happy about it. Rainbow’s probably going to be even more difficult about the whole thing.”

Rarity nodded. “We’ll just have to hope for the best.”

The pegasus relaxed back in the hot tub, letting out a low, happy hum. “Anyway, let’s not think about it anymore. I need to get my mind off her, anyway.” The last words slipped out naturally, but she immediately regretted them, and felt her face burn hot again.

Her alabaster friend was looking quizzically at her. “Get your mind off her? I thought you said you were enjoying having her around?”

“Oh, I— I am!” Fluttershy exclaimed. “I just… I just meant…” her words tailed lamely off into silence. The colour of her cheeks and nose was answer enough. Suddenly, Rarity was smirking at her, looking positively delighted.

“Oh dear.” The unicorn grinned. “Does somepony have a little problem?”

“I…” The pegasus cursed herself silently for her poor choice of words.

“You know, I thought this all sounded a little more than simple kindness, darling.”

Fluttershy sighed; Rarity was her best friend, and apart from Rainbow Dash, her oldest. The mare knew her too well to be fooled.

“It is kindness,” she replied, choosing her words carefully. There was little point in denial at this stage. “I want to be kind to her as much as anypony else, I just… when I’m around her, I…” Fluttershy was quite sure that her face had bypassed red and turned almost purple by this point. “I… I don’t just want to be kind to her.” By the last few words, her voice was a scant squeak, barely audible over the little splashes of the water and the sounds of the boiler in the adjoining room.

Rarity smiled gently at her flustered friend, with the air of an older sister offering advice. “You find yourself wanting to do certain other things, am I right?” she prompted.

After a moment’s pause, Fluttershy nodded resignedly, gazing down at the surface of the water, unable to meet the unicorn’s eyes. Suddenly, the pegasus slapped the smooth surface of the liquid with a groan of frustration, sending a silver spray of droplets over both ponies, and drawing a whine of protest from Rarity. “But I shouldn’t!” she burst out. “I shouldn’t want that! I’m… I’m looking after her; she doesn’t have any other choice but to live with me. If I’m thinking… those kinds of thoughts about her, it’s just taking advantage of her! It’s dirty, and- and horrible, and… oh, I’m not that kind of pony!”

The last words echoed around the tiled room, and Fluttershy momentarily dunked her face under the surface of the hot tub, coming up a second later, spluttering and shaking the water out of her eyes. Rarity was gazing at her, genuine surprise and concern etched on her face.

“Darling…” she began, tentatively, “you’re acting like you’ve made some kind of mistake.” She rested a damp hoof on the pegasus’s shoulder, and the primrose mare instinctively shied away from the contact a little. “You can’t help developing feelings for somepony; it’s not a choice you made. From what you’ve told me, this is the first time you’ve been able to connect so intimately with another pony. It’s perfectly natural for you to want that connection to become something more, and you should absolutely not beat yourself up about it. Why, it’s simply unhealthy to look on such lovely possibilities as ‘dirty’ or ‘horrible’.”

She sighed, tapping her chin pensively with a hoof. “Although, I take your point; you must endeavour to not make your guest uncomfortable. By all means make your move, but perhaps do so at a time when she’s less dependant upon your care and houseroom.”

Fluttershy nodded, a little despondently. “The worst part is when I feel… I don’t know… wronged,” she admitted, quietly. “Sometimes I’ll catch myself thinking that it’s unfair; that I can never have what I want, and that I should just tell her how I feel. Then I feel so guilty for wanting to be selfish like that.”

“We’re not saints, Fluttershy,” Rarity reminded her friend, a little sternly. “You’ve never met anypony who made you feel this way before; I know you’ve suffered purely physical crushes in the past— you still need to return Dash’s Spitfire poster, you know,” she flashed the blushing pegasus a teasing smile. “But this is something different; you have a genuine connection with this mare, and I might hazard a guess that you find her… physical form worthy of admiration, too.”

Fluttershy nodded again, sinking down deeper into the water, as if hoping to extinguish her glowing cheeks.

“Precisely.” Rarity leaned back lazily against the side of the tub, basking in the warmth. This was her territory, and she knew it well enough to enter it with perfect ease. “Ultimately, none of us are free from temptation; to admire what we feel unable to attain, for whatever reason, is inevitably a torture. You are most likely a horrendously frustrated mare at present, I dare say.”

The pegasus thought back to the cruelty she had leveled upon Applejack, to the anger she had felt towards Twilight, and to the hot bubbles that swelled and burst in the pit of her stomach whenever she so much as brushed against Trixie’s fur. For a third time, she nodded mutely.

“The only advice I can offer you is this; bide your time. Try to gauge what your objet de l'amour thinks of you, and decide whether or not you feel it would be a gamble worth making. Wait until she finds her hooves first, naturally, but then, if you feel the moment is ripe…” she slapped a hoof altogether more gently into the water, creating a demure little wave, “act!”

She glanced at the pegasus, and patted her shoulder, as if at an afterthought. “Oh, and it might well be worth finding a way of venting some of that excess frustration, dear.”

“How?” Fluttershy asked blankly, incredulously picturing herself joining Rainbow Dash for Karate lessons at Ponyville dojo.

Rarity raised an eyebrow, and let out an airy chuckle. “Oh, you’re a big filly now; I’m sure you can think of something!”

Fluttershy suddenly gave a little ‘oh!’ of realization, and sank even further down into the tub; she was quite sure the glow from her cheeks was by now sufficient to give the smirking unicorn mild sunburn. “Rarity!” she exclaimed, giving her friend a reproachful look.

Rarity raised her hooves apologetically, still smiling. “You know I don’t mean to pry, darling; I’m merely trying to act as a voice of experience.”

“Anyway!” Fluttershy squeaked, trying her utmost to alter the course of the conversation to a topic she found less mortifying. “I…” Her voice tailed away, and she sighed. “Thanks, Rarity,” she mumbled, at length. “Thanks for helping me with this.”

The unicorn nodded. “We’ve all been there, Fluttershy,” she replied, sagely. “Just promise me you’ll stop beating yourself up over something you can’t help.”

“I… I’ll do my best,” Fluttershy promised.

Rarity sighed. “Well, at least you seem to be handling your troubles better than certain other members of our social circle.”

“Huh?” Fluttershy turned to look at her, a little confused.

The unicorn shrugged, looking a little dejected. “You aren’t the only one to become something of a recluse these last few days; I’ve only seen poor Twilight once in these last few days, and even then she was just placing an order at the boutique.” She shook her head. “The poor dear looked dreadful; bags under her eyes, mane all over the place, and she didn’t so much as stop to chat. She doesn’t look as if she’s sleeping well.”

“Really?” Fluttershy’s voice held a rising note of serious concern.

“Mhm,” Rarity squirmed her shoulders back against the side of the sub, working out a little of the tension. “I don’t think she’s taking Spike’s illness very well,” she confided. “I presume you’ve heard about that?”

The timid mare nodded. “She told me what’d happened. I visited her… it must have been four days ago, now.” She bit her lip. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think Spike’s the only thing on her mind right now.”

“You doubtless know more than I do, darling,” Rarity conceded. “I knocked on her door yesterday, after she failed to arrive at the park, but I heard not so much as a peep from inside.” She shook her head, frowning. “What in Equestria’s troubling her? It must be serious if she won’t talk to us about it.”

“I don’t know for sure,” Fluttershy said. “But… I think it’s something to do with Trixie. When I told her the story, she got all… strange. Aggressive, I guess. I don’t know; she said she didn’t want revenge, but I’m not sure. Maybe she’s afraid?”

“Afraid?” scoffed the unicorn. “Why should she be? Even if your little showmare weren’t a reformed character, I fail to see that Twilight would have anything to fear from her; not magically, at any rate.”

“Maybe she’s worried that she’ll try something other than magic?” Fluttershy suggested. “Maybe she thinks that Trixie’s going to try and… I don’t know… take her friends away, or something like that.” She shook her head in confusion.

“Perhaps…” Rarity replied, pensively. “There could be any number of motivations for such behaviour.” She glanced up. “Is she aware of your feelings for Trixie?”

Fluttershy shook her head. “No… no, I didn’t tell her.”

The unicorn’s brow furrowed. “I thought perhaps that she was afraid of losing you as a friend, should you and Trixie become romantically involved at the expense of your other friendships.”

“No, if anything, she seemed angry with me,” Fluttershy said, helplessly. “She seemed to think I was deliberately keeping Trixie to myself; like I was hiding her away, and being… being selfish.”

Rarity’s eyebrows raised a little. “Ah,” she said, quietly. Then, she smiled. “Well, with a bit of luck, she’ll be attending Pinkie’s party. She’ll be able to meet Trixie first-hoof, and see that whatever concerns she’s harbouring are simply baseless.”

Fluttershy felt a trickle of hope in her chest. “You really think so?”

“Well, naturally I can’t be sure, but I think meeting Trixie should sort everything out for her. It’s my belief that she suspects Trixie is trying to take you away from her. To her mind, you’ve been taken in by a ploy, and hence, her anger at the situation is all to likely to manifest itself as anger towards you. It’s a strange quirk of how ponies minds work, and besides, you know as well as I do that dear Twilight is prone to arrive at… shall we say, illogical conclusions? Remember how worked up she became over that silly letter?”

She chuckled at the memory. “My point is that the prospect of sending poor Spikey away, coupled with the sudden upheaval or Trixie reappearing from out of the blue… well, her world must feel rather upside-down at the moment, and we can hardly blame her for being a little paranoid.”

Fluttershy nodded, but she still felt a little uncertain.

Rarity relaxed into the warmth with a low sigh. “Anyway, darling, let’s not think about these things any further. It sounds like you’ve been through the mill this week, and I insist that you stay for a preening session; my treat.”

The pegasus blushed, smiling shyly. “Oh… well… thanks, Rarity. But only if you’re—”

“I insist, dear!” Rarity repeated, giggling at the awkwardness with which her friend inevitably responded to acts of generosity. “Besides,” she gestured to her horn, “I was planning on staying behind for an alicure, and it will be infinitely more pleasant with somepony to keep me company.”

Fluttershy grinned. “You’ve convinced me.”

“Oh, and Fluttershy…” Rarity touched her friend’s forehoof, looking a little worried again. “One last thing; let me tell the others that Trixie will be attending Pinkie’s party. I don’t want you to have to be interrogated about it by ponies such as Rainbow Dash, and besides, I don’t doubt you’ve trotted out the story enough times now.”

“You’re… you’d do that?” The pegasus blinked, taken aback. It was true; she had not in the least been looking forward to breaking the news to her friends, but she knew it was her task. She could not have reasonably expected her friend to take the awkward questions, confusion and possible hostility upon herself. Then again, she reflected, for such a connoisseur of gossip as Rarity, perhaps the unicorn would find the whole process rather enjoyable.

“Of course I would, dear.” The fashionista rolled her eyes a little, but smiled. “You’ve had enough to deal with lately. You can arrive the day after tomorrow, knowing that the others are fully primed and informed.” She frowned a little. “Although, of course, I cannot promise a universally warm welcome.”

“Thanks, Rarity,” Fluttershy murmured again, slopping a fair amount of water out of the hot tub as she leaned across to bestow a quick hug on her alabaster friend.

As they clambered from the tub, wrapping their manes up in tightly-tied towels, Fluttershy wondered if Rarity’s assessment of Twilight’s behaviour was accurate.

She recalled, once again, the way Twilight had spoken to her, the words cutting across her mind: “Why aren’t you letting anypony visit her?”

Fluttershy’s stomach clenched with protective anger. She had every sympathy for Twilight’s worry over Spike, but she thought determinedly that Trixie should not have to deal with Twilight’s foalish behaviour on top of all of her other worries.

Twilight’s your friend; you ought to try and help her, not ignore her.

She brought this on herself; she can sort it out herself. Right now, Trixie has to come first.

But… surely Trixie brought her problems on herself, just as much as Twilight did, spoke up a small, reasonable voice in the back of her mind.

Trixie was unlucky; she had every reason to feel wronged, and you can’t blame her for ending up the way she did. Twilight’s just making a mountain out of a molehill.

It was a feeble argument, but combined with the nagging sense of resentment she felt towards the librarian, it seemed convincing enough.

I’ve got better things to do than worry about Twilight being Twilight.

She suppressed a small snort of contempt, as she shook a fine mist of spray out from her wings.

It’s not our problem.