Chapter Twelve

A Night To Remember - Part I

“There! How’s that?”

The sun was beginning its westerly decline on the evening of the party, and Fluttershy’s cottage was a scene of last-minute preparations. The animals had all been fed early, and the floor was strewn with empty bowls and snoozing rodents.

Trixie withdrew a shimmering purple tendril from the lace-up back of Fluttershy’s dress, after carefully tugging the final bow to just the right tightness. Panting a little at the magical exertion, she stepped back to inspect her handiwork. The pegasus half-turned, running an appraising eye over her reflection, lingering on the braiding of her mane before examining her dress with a critical gaze.

Pinkie Pie’s parties were by no means formal affairs; Fluttershy had opted to wear an airy, honeydew-green construct of Rarity’s, the silk subtly detailed with pale-yellow rivulets of gauze. Trixie had to admire Rarity’s grasp of her art; her creation succeeded in catching the eye without seeming ostentatious and felt appropriate for a friendly get-together without appearing prosaic or overly functional. Its backless, laced design accentuated Fluttershy’s natural curves, yet did not show off enough to seem revealing or coquettish, beyond the barest hint of flirtation.

“Do… do you think it looks alright?” Fluttershy stretched out her wings, and rose gently into the air, hovering a few inches from the floorboards. She twirled slowly around in mid-air, looking a little concernedly at Trixie, as if awaiting her judgment.

“It’s…” Trixie tailed off and smiled. “I know I’m stating the obvious here, but you look beautiful.”

Fluttershy alighted, flushing to her ears, but grinning shyly nevertheless. “You do that on purpose,” she mumbled with a hint of playful reproach.

“Do what?” returned the unicorn innocently.

The pegasus pawed at the floorboards, looking sideways at her friend. “Say… things like that; you know it makes me blush…”

Trixie giggled, smirking at the adorable glow in the mare’s cheeks. “Well, who could blame me?”

Fluttershy blushed harder than ever, but the corners of her mouth twitched.

Trixie returned the smile, looking around for her scarf. She herself had decided to attend the party unclothed; she felt that to arrive in an ostentatious gown would be a mistake, given that she was trying to dispel her old, arrogant image. Nonetheless, she wanted to present a good first impression, and had shampooed her mane and coat until they shone. Perhaps they had not regained the old luster of her travelling days. Maybe the Everfree’s hardships still showed on her face, but she felt strong enough to face the ponies she had wronged in the past.

“Ready to go?” Trixie asked.

The timid mare nodded. “I think so.” For some reason, she looked a little nervous.

Trixie trotted over to stand beside her. “Are you okay?”

Fluttershy nodded. “I’m… I’m fine; I’m being silly. I just feel like tonight’s going to change things. Everypony’s going to know about you, and everything’s going to be different.”

The unicorn shrugged, flashing her a reassuring smile. “Maybe it will be different, but I’m not going anywhere; not unless you want me to.”

The primrose pegasus sighed happily, leaning up to wordlessly nuzzle Trixie’s cheek, before pulling the front door ajar and stepping outside. The sapphire mare was about to follow, when an unerringly accurate carrot caught her a sharp blow on the side of the head. She turned with a small yelp, rubbing her stinging temple, to see an irate Angel sitting on the arm of the settee and giving her the most cautionary of looks.

Trixie rolled her eyes, waved sarcastically at the fuming rabbit, and trotted out into the cold. She pulled the door shut behind her, hearing the thud of a second carrot impacting with the wood behind her, hurled an instant too late.

The windows of Sugarcube Corner were aglow with shifting, multicoloured light as the mares approached. Ordinarily, Pinkie’s parties were confined to her apartment upstairs, but the Cakes were celebrating their wedding anniversary with a week in Los Pegasus, and the hyperactive confectioner had taken their absence as permission to commandeer the entire building for her own purposes.

Trixie shivered in the cold air; it would be a welcome relief to be indoors again. She glanced at Fluttershy.

Was it just cowardice? The thought flashed across her mind, seemingly from nowhere.

Huh?

You always told yourself you were trying to protect her, by not acting on your feelings for her. You didn’t want to dirty her by thinking of her in that way, but now… what about now? You know how she feels; you know she’s just like anypony else inside, but you’re still not making a move, because you’re scared of admitting the truth to her, even now. Did you ever really want to protect her? Or was it always just cowardice?

Trixie shook her head, trying to clear the nagging thoughts that were flitting like flies inside her mind. Now was not the time to second-guess her own motives.

She noticed that her heart was pumping rather faster than usual as they approached the door to Sugarcube Corner. Her nervousness must have showed in her face, because Fluttershy halted, turning to face her. “Do you feel okay?”

The unicorn nodded uncertainly. “I’m…” She could not bring herself to complete the sentence. “Fluttershy, do you think they’ll forgive me?”

Fluttershy seemed to deliberate for a moment. “I hope so,” she said at length. “I… I think so,” she added after a moment. “I mean, my friends and I, we… we always forgive each other when we get into fights; I don’t see why you’d be any different.”

“Fluttershy, I almost destroyed the town; ponies nearly died because of me.”

The pegasus sighed. “No; all you did was boast, and make a few ponies look silly. You didn’t ask anypony to go and fetch an Ursa from the forest, and you couldn’t have known those foals were going to take a stage-show so seriously, could you?” She smiled. “You must have told that story in a hundred towns, and none of them ended up in ruins, did they? All they need to forgive is bigheadedness, and between you and me,” she leaned in conspiratorially, giving Trixie a playful smile, “considering we know Rainbow Dash, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Trixie nodded. She was still not quite convinced, but there was sense in Fluttershy’s words. “I… I’ll just do my best. Thanks.”

The pegasus beamed at her. “Oh, you’ll be fine.” She leaned across, planted the swiftest of kisses on Trixie’s cheek, and trotted up the steps to the pink front door.

The sapphire mare followed a few steps behind, feeling ever-so-slightly stunned. The spot where Fluttershy’s lips had touched her tingled, and she could not help but feel a little braver.

The bakery’s counter was empty, and the shop area had been deserted and left perfectly tidy in the absence of the Cakes. However, if the thump of loud music and the glow of light from beneath the door behind the counter was any hint, the living room had not been likewise abandoned.

The door swung ajar, the music immediately growing twice as loud, and an excitable face poked around the doorframe. Judging by her grin, and the voluminous, violently fuchsia mane that bobbed around her head, Trixie deduced that this mare must be the Pinkie Pie about whom she’d been told so much.

“Hey, Flutters!” The effervescent pony vaulted over the counter, and bounced across the tiled floor to greet them. The mare skidded a little as she halted, legs flailing a little as she attempted to find purchase on the slippery surface. Her choice of attire for the evening consisted of four hooped blue-and-white cotton socks, the hind pair reaching almost up to her cutie mark.

Trixie noticed, with mild amusement, the slight blush that crept over Fluttershy’s nose at the sight of the slightly suggestive garments. “Oh… hello, Pinkie.” The pegasus smiled a little awkwardly, keeping her eyes fixed determinedly on the mare’s face. “You look… nice.”

“Oh, these?” Pinkie giggled, gesturing to a socked forehoof and leaning in conspiratorially. “They’re for Dashie; I’m gonna get my own back on her!”

“Get your… own back?” Fluttershy looked a little confused.

“Yep!” Pinkie nodded. “Remember last time, when she turned up in that Wonderbolts uniform?” She smirked. “I think she forgot that I know what she likes, too!”

Fluttershy flushed again, but Trixie could tell that she was trying not to laugh. It was pleasant to see her so relaxed around her friend; able to leave behind a little of her natural nervousness for a time.

At that moment, Pinkie turned to Trixie with a wide grin. “A-ha! And this must be the mare Rarity told me was coming to commandeer my party!”

Trixie blinked. “Oh, I… I’m—”

“I’m joking, silly,” Pinkie said with a surprisingly gentle smile.

“Oh… okay.” Trixie returned the smile nervously, acutely aware that, aside from Fluttershy, this was the first pony with whom she had spoken in almost a year.

“Anyways,” continued the party pony, bouncing slightly on the spot, “I’m Pinkie Pie, and it’s great to meet you at last!”

“I… Thanks, Pinkie.” Trixie met her eyes shyly. “I guess I owe you an apology for… well, everything that happened last time I was here.”

Pinkie waved a dismissive hoof. “Nah, it’s fine! It’s what you’re like now that matters, and if you’re not a big mean meanie-pants anymore, then you’re good in my books.”

Trixie broke into a relieved smile. She was about to thank the mare, but Pinkie suddenly looked thoughtful. “Y’know,” she mused, “I think ‘meanie-pants’ is getting old, I need to come up with something new. Trouble-trousers?”

Fluttershy gave Trixie a look which quite clearly said, ‘don’t ask’.

Pinkie’s brow was furrowed with thought. “Disagreeable-drawers?” Her expression suddenly cleared, and she grinned with an almost startling rapidity. “Anyway, come on through, girls, we’ve got a party to partify!”

“Yes, Pinkie… about that…” Trixie turned at the sound of Fluttershy’s voice, and saw her looking a little concernedly at the door, behind which a multitude of voices were sounding. “It sounds a bit… busy in there for just the seven of us.”

“Seven?” Pinkie looked a little nonplussed, then she brightened. “Oh yeah! I was thinking yesterday that I never get the chance to use the front room these days, so I thought we might as well make the most of it! It’s way bigger than my room upstairs, plus we’ve got the kitchen and everything, and it’d just seem like such a great big waste if we didn’t take advantage!” She heaved in a great huff of air, having given her explanation on a single breath. “So I invited a few extra ponies, because we never get so much space usually, and it seemed mean not to share it!” She grinned broadly.

Fluttershy, however, did not look pleased. “How… how many is a few?”

Pinkie shrugged. “Oh, you know… a few. How long’s a piece of string, anyway?” She grinned, then tapped her chin with a socked hoof, thoughtfully. “Well, I mean theoretically speaking, length’s a concept based on our three perceived dimensions, so it’s really kind of meaningless when it comes to a string, since it’s a big ol’ ten dimensional entity… I mean, what they hay, if you go ahead and add the eleventh dimension, a string then becomes a membrane and any sense of proportion goes completely out of the window, and everything goes all melty, but that’s when they kicked me out of the bar, so I—”

“Pinkie!” Fluttershy shouted, and the mare’s ramblings trailed away. The pegasus looked angry. “You do know why I’m bringing Trixie tonight, don’t you?” She took a step forwards. “You do realize that she wanted to ease herself back into things, right? A quiet little get-together? She didn’t want you inviting the whole town!” She prodded Pinkie in the chest with an accusing hoof.

Pinkie had taken a step back from her friend, who seemed momentarily to tower over her. The earth pony’s eyes were suddenly glistening with moisture. “I… I didn’t mean… I just—”

“Fluttershy,” Trixie stepped forwards, placing herself firmly between the mares, “I don’t mind.” Her voice was soothing, although she had to admit that her heart had risen to her throat at the prospect of immersing herself in a far larger crowd than she had expected. “I don’t care if I’ve got to talk to five ponies or fifty, it’s all the same to me.” It was not entirely true, but she knew that she could cope, and she could not bear to be responsible for a falling-out between Fluttershy and her friends. She turned to the tearful Pinkie. “Don’t worry about it,” she murmured.

“No, I-I didn’t think!” The party pony looked exceptionally guilty.

“It’s easy to do.” Trixie smiled reassuringly. “No harm done, okay? Just have a good time.”

Pinkie nodded and sniffed. The sound was echoed a moment later by Fluttershy, whose posture had diminished a little. “I’m… I’m sorry, Pinkie,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have lost it like that…”

The earth pony stepped around Trixie, blinking away the hint of tearfulness that had glinted in her eyes and nudged her friend, playfully. “Hey, maybe you can buy me a cupcake sometime!” She winked, but then her giggles died away as she looked appraisingly at Fluttershy. “Really though, it’s okay… when you find somepony who means that much to you, of course you’re gonna treat them like they’re made of glass. S’only natural.” Smiling broadly, she bounced away towards the living room door.

Fluttershy followed a few paces behind, face flushed at her own outburst, and at Pinkie’s moment of strange insight. Trixie brought up the rear with Pinkie’s words echoing in her mind, but Fluttershy’s aggressive behaviour was dominating her thoughts.

Some small part of her was quietly pleased that Fluttershy was so willing to defend her, but at the same time, the rapidity with which she had been set at the throat of a good friend was almost frightening.

The unicorn did not want to be the force that dragged such friendships apart, and above all, she hated the growing indication that Fluttershy could be willing to sacrifice those friendships, in order to stay close to Trixie and keep her safe. Sometimes, she could not help but wonder what was hiding behind Fluttershy’s kindness.

Then, she followed the pegasus through the door, and the train of thought melted away under the sudden barrage of sights and sounds.

The front room was unrecognizable, as it always was when Pinkie and her party cannon were turned loose upon it. A row of trestle tables had been set up along the back wall, groaning under punch-bowls and plates of enough sugar-filled food to give a dentist an apoplexy at a single glance. The ceiling was hung with streamers, and bunches of balloons hovered, seemingly untethered in the dimmed light.

A large nest-like pile of cushions had been strewn around in one corner, occupied by an eclectic bunch of non-unicorns, all of whom needed both free forehooves to hold their glasses. Near the kitchen door, a patch of floor had been cleared for dancing, currently populated only by those initial brave or overconfident souls who were willing to dance without a protective crowd around them.

The place was full of ponies, standing in small groups or perusing the food. The party did not feel overcrowded and oppressive, but nor did it feel sparse and under-attended. The music was loud enough to allow for dancing, but not so loud as to prevent conversation. The arrangement of the lighting and decorations gracefully avoided appearing tacky or seedy, without losing one iota of their cheerfulness. Much like Rarity’s abilities to balance every facet of a dress, Trixie could not help but be impressed by the care and simple subtlety that underpinned the evening’s seemingly-anarchic organization.

Rarity and Applejack were already present, engrossed in gossip and idly nodding in time to the music. The unicorn was dressed impeccably in a sparkling sapphire gown, perhaps a little too sparkling for the occasion, and the farm-pony was wearing her usual scuffed brown hat. Trixie recognized both of them with a fresh pang of nerves. It appeared as if Twilight and Rainbow Dash were yet to arrive, unless they were lost in the crowd.

Oddly enough, Trixie felt almost encouraged by the noisy, busy atmosphere. It prevented her from being the centre of attention upon her arrival, and indeed, it seemed that nopony had yet recognized her, or even so much as noticed her.

“Okay, so…” Pinkie glanced quickly around the room. “There’s AJ and Rarity.” She indicated them for Trixie’s benefit. “I’ll let you know when Twi’ and Dashie turn up.” She giggled. “You girls behave yourselves, now!” With a wink, she turned and bounced off across the room, effortlessly negotiating the crowds.

The mares stood silently in the middle of the bustling party, the atmosphere growing suddenly a little awkward. “I… I guess you’ll want to go speak to them on your own,” Fluttershy said softly, indicating the mares at the buffet table. Rarity had said her farewells to Applejack, and was now engaged in conversation with a cream earth mare in an immaculate cocktail dress; both were opining enthusiastically about one another’s choice in eveningwear.

“I don’t mind you being with me,” Trixie replied quickly.

Fluttershy nodded. “I know, but it’s between you and them. Whatever you need to say, you don’t need me hanging around. Besides, I need to talk to Carrot Top about her rabbit problem anyway.” She paused, looking a little worried. “I mean, if you do want me to stay with you, for moral support, then that’s fine too, I just—”

“It’s okay,” Trixie cut gently across her. “You’re right; this isn’t about now, it’s about what’s happened in the past. If I’m going to get beyond that, I need to do it on my own.”

Fluttershy smiled timidly at her, and for a moment Trixie thought the pegasus was about to kiss her again, but then she turned, and trotted away between the groups of ponies.

Trixie watched her go, that familiar yet strange mixture of emotions bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She wished that she understood the workings of that shy, loving, sometimes-frightening mind a little better, and yet at the same time, Fluttershy’s mystery only served to enhance her allure.

Two unicorn mares trotted past, giggling vacuously at some banal little joke, and sipping on glasses of punch. Trixie felt several worlds apart from them, as if a glass wall had fallen between them. She felt almost contemptuous, but it was nothing close to her old, sneeringly arrogant contempt. She had faced pain and starvation; she had nearly died on several occasions, and lived in a world where every scrap of food and every restful night felt like a blessing. Now, immersed for the first time in months amongst those with happy, balanced lives, she looked around, and saw such emotion over miniscule, prosaic things. It felt irrelevant.

She sighed, realizing that she had a long way to go before she could truly function around others again. Forgiving, angelic Fluttershy was one thing, but she needed to find a way to reconnect with the world in general.

“Hey.” The unicorn jumped, whipping around. With a pang of that insistent urge to flee that life in the Everfree had imprinted into her psyche, Trixie found herself face-to-face with Applejack. “So, y’all turned up.” She sounded indifferent to the news.

“I… I had to,” Trixie replied in a small voice, her heart still thumping. “You’re… you’re Applejack, aren’t you?”

The farm-pony nodded, unsmiling. The look on her face said that she was waiting for Trixie to speak, but did not expect to be impressed.

Trixie took a breath, intending to apologize for tying the mare up, but halted at the last moment. Applejack was clearly a proud pony, but somehow, she did not seem the type to hold a grudge for some petty, personal humiliation. No, the obvious anger in the mare’s eyes stemmed from somewhere else, some deeper blame.

“I…” Trixie met Applejack’s eyes shyly. This was not time for lengthy introductions; she needed to clear the air. “I’m sorry I hurt Fluttershy.”

The earth pony looked extremely taken aback; she opened her mouth to reply, but it seemed as if the response she had expected to give was no longer applicable.

“I know you care about her,” Trixie continued. “I care about her too; I don’t expect you to trust me after everything that’s happened, but I’d never mean to hurt her.” She scuffed a hoof against the floorboards. “And I’m sorry I ran away that night, after the Ursa business. I should’ve stayed, but something… something broke. I couldn’t carry on; I couldn’t face you then, and I know it’s a little late, but I can now.” She held out a nervous hoof. “I’m sorry, Applejack. For everything.”

For several, long moments, Applejack stood silent. Her eyes moved between Trixie’s face, and her outreached hoof.

Then, she reached forwards, and touched the pad of her own forehoof gently to Trixie’s. “Last couple years ain’t been kind to ya, have they?” She did not quite smile, but her voice was less harsh, and some of the stoniness had left her gaze.

“I guess it takes quite an upheaval to get rid of that much stupidity,” Trixie mumbled.

“I hear that.” Applejack shook her head, and met Trixie’s eyes seriously. “Just promise me somethin’, will ya?”

The unicorn nodded tentatively.

“Don’t go leavin’ her,” Applejack said quietly. “Fluttershy, I mean. Y’all look darn near ready to hit the road again, but… please don’t just go without any warning. You mean a whole lot to her; I tried to get in to see ya’ll when she first brought you in, an’ she shot me down pretty bad. Both of us said a few things we regret, but the point is, she doesn’t get so stubborn over just anypony.” She sighed. “I’m not gonna make threats of you, Trixie, but my friends mean a lot to me.”

“I’m not going to leave her, Applejack,” Trixie replied without a moment’s hesitation. “The road used to reel me in like nothing else, but all it did was let me keep on running. I spent half a lifetime out there, and what’ve I got to show for it?” She snorted, but smiled a tiny, satisfied smile. “The road’s run out for me. She’s all I’ve got left now, and that’s so much more than enough. I won’t abandon her.”

Applejack nodded slowly, her expression softening. “I reckon I understand, Trixie; I went out on the roads myself, years back, an’ all they did was lead me back here. Either way, if Fluttershy’s safe with you, then you an’ I ain’t got a problem.” For the first time, she returned Trixie’s smile with a small one of her own. “That pony’s so caught up in all that caring… she needs somepony to care for her.” She shrugged, her smile fading, still clearly a little untrusting of Trixie’s motives and character. “Now maybe that pony’s you, an’ maybe it ain’t, I dunno yet. Either way, that’s between you and her, I just—” She broke off, her eyes hardening a little as she looked over Trixie’s shoulder.

The unicorn turned, following Applejack’s gaze, and caught sight of a familiar, somewhat brash-looking pegasus mare standing in the doorway. Her body was cyan-furred, lithe and obviously athletic, her mane a vivid, prismatic shock comprising nearly every colour of the spectrum. She was wearing nothing but a pair of dark blue saddlebags, which were bulging with what looked suspiciously like a wide selection of bottles.

Her appearance radiated every indication of easy self-assurance, except for the expression upon her face, which was a little wide-eyed, as if she were a rabbit caught in the headlights of a carriage. Her wings seemed quite disinterested in remaining furled to her sides, despite her obvious best efforts. Half with apprehension and half with amusement, Trixie realized both who the pegasus was, and precisely what she had spotted approaching across the room.

Instantaneously confirming Trixie’s suspicions, Pinkie Pie bounced from the crowd and caught Dash in a tight hug, running a socked foreleg playfully through her marefriend’s mane. She pulled back to share a few whispered words, then set about kissing the pegasus very thoroughly indeed. Fortunately, most of the party’s attendees were well occupied by the company and food, and the enthusiastic greeting in the doorway went largely unnoticed, barring a couple of wolf-whistles from a group of nearby pegasus stallions.

Giggling at the sight, Trixie turned back to Applejack, but the expression on the mare’s face made the laughter die instantly in her throat. It was halfway between bitter resignation, and a regret that was made all the more unbearable by its appearance on the face of so stoic a mare. Then, she swallowed, and closed her eyes for a moment with a slight shake of the head. When she opened them again, the pain was perfectly hidden from view, although there was no longer any trace of a smile in her gaze.

“Y’all have a good night, Trixie,” Applejack said, her voice flat. Then, she turned, and before the unicorn could articulate a response, she was lost in the crowd.

That could have been worse, spoke up a small, reasonable voice at the back of her mind. Of course, it seemed as if Trixie were not the only point of contention for Applejack that night. The look that had flashed onto the farm-pony’s face at the sight of Dash and Pinkie was strangely haunting.

Delaying the moment when she would be forced to speak with Rainbow Dash, Trixie turned and made her way towards the buffet table, magically seizing a sandwich without glancing at the filling, and taking a distracted bite. Across the room, she could see Fluttershy chatting animatedly with a goldenrod pony, apparently making suggestions for humane pest control. There was no sign of Rarity at the table any longer; she must have joined the throng on the dance floor.

“Hey, are you new in town?” Trixie looked up, mouth still filled with egg and cress, meeting the eye of a burgundy earth mare with a thick, pale-pink mane. She seemed a little older than most of the ponies in attendance, if only by a few years, she seemed somehow more well-entrenched in adulthood than Fluttershy or her friends. “I’ve not seen you before,” she added thoughtfully.

Trixie swallowed. This was a difficult situation; naturally, the entire town had not attended her shows, much as the thought would have affronted her at the time. It was hardly as if they would have passed around posters of her after she left, so not everypony in town would recognize her. Letting slip her name, on the other hand, would be far more likely to give the game away. Then again, she supposed reintegration was the reason she was here, and she could hardly make progress on that front under an assumed name.

“My name’s Cheerilee,” continued the mare, her voice a little uncertain now, faced with the unicorn’s silence.

Oh, what the hay. Trixie smiled shyly at the earth pony. “I’m Trixie,” she said. “I… I guess I am new here.”

“Trixie…” Cheerilee frowned. “Rings a bell…” Her expression suddenly cleared. “Oh yeah, Snips and Snails wouldn’t shut up about you for weeks, a few years ago now… weren’t you some kind of stage magician?”

Some deeply-buried piece of Trixie’s psyche twitched irritably at being addressed as a ‘stage magician’, but her prevailing emotion was a surprised relief at not receiving a hoof to the face. “Snips and Snails? You know them?”

Cheerilee nodded. “Sorry, I should’ve mentioned that I teach up at the schoolhouse, and they’re in one of my classes. They’re not the most coherent of storytellers, but apparently they ended up with quite a wonderful pair of moustaches as a result of your visit.”

Trixie’s confusion must have shown on her face, because Cheerilee giggled. “Like I say, they’re hardly reliable sources. So, are you living here now?”

“Wait, hold on a moment.” Trixie held up a hoof in bemusement. “Was that all they told you?”

Cheerilee’s brow knitted in thought. “Well, I only heard about everything afterwards; it was exam time so I was pulling an all-nighter marking papers. Ponies in town told me something about an Ursa Minor, but I don’t remember too much; you know what it’s like when you don’t sleep enough.” She waved a hoof. “But it didn’t sound like that big of a problem, not with Twilight Sparkle here.”

Trixie gazed incredulously at her. “Not that big of a problem? Surely the ponies here hate me now?”

The schoolteacher shook her head, amusedly. “Trixie, there’s a hydra living ten minutes down the road, we woke up one morning to find Cerberus wandering around the town square, there’ve been parasprite infestations, and a few months ago the living embodiment of chaos itself decided to set up shop right here in Ponyville.” She shrugged. “Like I say, Ursa Minors et al are kind of par for the course here.” She leaned in with a conspiratorial air. “One piece of advice if you’re new here; this town isn’t as quiet as it looks.”

Trixie blinked. “Apparently,” she said a little dazedly. Then, she smiled, still a little taken aback, but gratified that this unplanned meeting had been a success. Even though the mare seemed a little on the eccentric side, it was pleasant to see her expectations exceeded. “Good to meet you, Cheerilee.”

“Likewise,” the teacher replied grinning. “Celestia, it’s good to get away from the classroom and just have a chat.” She stretched her neck, yawning. “You wouldn’t believe the way your work can become your life.”

Trixie smirked, as if at a private joke. “Actually, I kind of would.”

Cheerilee giggled again, gesturing to a silver platter towards the back of the table. “Hey, mind magicking me one of those sandwiches over? I keep getting mayo on my neck whenever I try and reach the plate.”

“Sure.” Trixie seized a cheese and pickle sandwich from the pile, and with no small exertion, hovered it over to Cheerilee, who took it between her teeth with a muffled sound of thanks.

“Talk to you later then,” Trixie said.

“Mff-fuff!” replied Cheerilee, which the unicorn took to indicate assent. The burgundy mare turned away, heading for the dance-floor, and Trixie let out a sigh of relief.

See? It’s not so hard to just talk to ponies, is it? spoke up a small voice at the back of her mind.

Maybe with her; she wasn’t exactly in touch with current affairs, was she? Anypony who was actually at my show might be a lot harder to convince.

Even so, it was not without a small smile that she bit into one of the artful daffodil-flavoured hors d’oeuvres that Pinkie Pie had left scattered amongst the sandwiches.

“Sorry! E-excuse me! N-no, that’s fine, I’ll wait…”

It was barely a quarter of an hour later, but already, the party was in full swing. It seemed as if the final few guests had made their appearance, and the room felt a little more packed than Fluttershy was quite used to. Keeping up a steady stream of apologies and capitulations, she eased her way through the crowd, looking around for a face she knew well enough to make eye contact with. Carrot Top had joined her coltfriend amongst the dancing throng, and she had not caught sight of Trixie for some time.

She was tempted to seek out the unicorn, but also wanted to give Trixie a chance to make whatever reconciliations the mare felt were necessary, without Fluttershy intruding. In truth, she herself was still a little shaken by her own actions towards Pinkie.

What’s wrong with you, Fluttershy? What’s made you so… angry?

She skirted around two pegasus stallions, who were locked in a heated discussion on stormball tactics.

It’s like Pinkie said, it’s not so much anger… I feel protective.

And yelling at your friends for no good reason is protecting her? Who said she needs or wants your protection, anyway?

She bit her lip, looking up at the densely-decorated ceiling to avoid eye-contact with anypony in the crowd. I… I don’t…

And what was that kiss all about? What happened to subtlety?

More out of a need for something to do than actual thirst, she edged towards one of the trestle tables and poured herself a glass of punch. She seated herself amongst four other mares who were resting on the cushion pile, beside a sea-blue pony who she knew by sight but had never spoken to. All of them seemed occupied with non-magically handling their drinks, and there was little conversation, which suited Fluttershy perfectly.

You’re just going to end up scaring her off if you keep this up. You realize that, don’t you?

On second thought, perhaps a more distracting environment was precisely what she needed. Downing her drink in one, she stood up again, seconds after having planted herself amongst the cushions. The blue mare was giving her a slightly odd look, but fortunately she caught sight of a familiar expertly-coiffured purple mane amongst the crowd, which gave her an excuse for her indecisive departure.

She trotted in Rarity’s direction, but halted a few paces away, as she caught sight of the unicorn’s conversation partner.

“…But really, dear, you worked up the nerve to come here tonight, didn’t you? Besides, Fluttershy needs somepony like you.” Rarity raised a decisive hoof. “No, I insist; let not one more ‘sorry’ pass your lips.”

Fluttershy took a couple of steps backwards, watching as the contrite Trixie nodded mutely. She did not want to intrude, not when things seemed to be going so smoothly.

“You’re really willing to believe me?” Trixie sounded surprised, but immensely grateful. “You’d… you’d trust me?”

“Fluttershy trusts you,” Rarity replied simply. “I must confess, I had my doubts when I first heard of your reappearance. I imagined some elaborate scheme of revenge, but from what Fluttershy’s told me… well, let’s just say that I know how time can change ponies.” She smiled warmly at the sapphire mare. “I hope you’ve found a home at last, Trixie.”

Rarity let out a little squeak of surprise as, quite suddenly, Trixie darted forward and hugged the alabaster mare in one quick, impulsive motion. When the blue mare spoke, her voice was a little choked. “I—sorry, it’s just, y-you’ve all been so… I—I never expected… I never had any r-right to…”

After a moment’s startled stillness, Rarity apparently decided to abandon her ladylike decorum, and returned the hug. Neither of them had yet noticed Fluttershy, who was lurking half-concealed behind a trio of idly-chatting unicorns, and who barely heard Rarity’s next, quieter words. “Everypony deserves a chance to be happy. It’s about time you had one, darling.”

All was quiet for a few seconds, as the mares pulled apart, Trixie wiping her eyes dry with a thin tendril of lilac magic. “Thanks, Rarity,” she mumbled.

The alabaster unicorn suddenly giggled, her eyes glinting mischievously. “But even so, you’d better watch your back…”

Trixie’s took a half-step backwards, suddenly looking a little worried. “Huh?”

Rarity winked, smirking broadly. “Well, some slights are of such magnitude that they cannot merely be forgiven; they can only be… avenged!”

The pearly mare’s horn suddenly glimmered with a sky-blue pearlescent sheen, with a small ‘pop’, Trixie’s head was suddenly engulfed in white smoke. A few passers-by looked curiously at the sudden piece of spellwork, but minor acts of exuberant magic were common enough at parties, and it did not hold anypony’s attention for long.

With a small gasp of horror, Fluttershy started forwards, but stopped just as quickly when the fumes began to clear from the blue mare’s head. She realized, with a sigh halfway between relief and amusement, just how fitting Rarity’s act of ‘vengeance’ had been.

For a moment, Trixie stood quite still, blinking as her vision returned. Then, she raised a hoof, and prodded gingerly at a lock of the wild, bubblegum-pink curls that now spilled over her face and neck, her expression one of perfect consternation.

She gazed at Rarity for a few seconds in open-mouthed astonishment, patting at the chaotic, magenta mass that her mane had become. The unicorn responsible let out a demure little giggle, covering her mouth with a hoof.

Then, both mares burst out laughing.

The half-concealed Fluttershy could not suppress a chuckle, as she turned away to watch an impromptu breakdancing contest that had broken out nearby, waiting for Rarity’s conversation to conclude. Although her sense of morality gave an uncomfortable twinge, she could not quite bring herself to move out of earshot. Trixie’s laugh was infectious, and quite impossible to walk away from entirely.

“Okay, that’s spell’s a good one,” Trixie conceded, snorting with a mirth that Fluttershy could tell was born partially from joy at the unexpected acceptance with which she had met. “Where’d you learn that? I thought you were a dressmaker!”

Rarity waved a hoof, smirking. “Not merely a dressmaker, darling, I’m an artist. The equine form is my canvas, and frankly, impromptu recolouring is an essential tool for any unicorn versed in the cosmetic arts.”

“You do realize that this means war, right?” Trixie replied lightly.

“Ah, but surely we’re even now?” returned Rarity, still grinning broadly.

“Well, I suppose so,” sniffed Trixie, her tone one of faux-haughtiness. Her horn flared, and with a magnesium-bright flash of white light, her mane returned to its normal silvery smoothness.

Rarity pouted. “You could have kept it; I thought it was something of a masterpiece. It wouldn’t hurt to embrace a more frivolous style from time to time, would it?”

The sapphire mare smiled. “Tempting, but I don’t want Pinkie Pie to think I’m stepping on her hooves.”

“Umm, hey there.” Fluttershy jumped violently at the sudden voice sounding close behind her. She had been so engrossed in watching the conversing mares out of the corner of her eye, she had forgotten that she was standing a little stupidly in the middle of the bustling room. The burst of ad-hoc breakdancing that she had halted adjacent to, with the pretence of observing, had long-since dispersed.

She turned to see a young, unicorn stallion, his coat a deep royal blue, his face a perfect mask of nervousness. A group of his friends stood some distance away, apparently having encouraged him into opening the conversation.

“H-hey!” he repeated, attempting to smile, the bridge of his nose rather flushed. “My name’s Cygnus.”

Fluttershy felt her cheeks burn in response, as she realized what was happening. The stallion looked quickly over his shoulder, seeking moral support. One of his friends made an encouraging ‘go on’ gesture, and the other clapped a despairing hoof to his forehead. Cygnus turned back to Fluttershy, a little discomfited by her silence. “I… I was wondering if… maybe you wanted to dance?”

Okay Fluttershy, the pegasus thought to herself, in the small portion of her mind that was not melting from sheer embarrassment. Remember what Rarity told you. Be cool and mysterious, retain your poise, and offer an air of polite disinterest. Your attitude must communicate that you are to be won over, and appear neither offended, nor over-eager.

She opened her mouth, but the only sound that came out was a small squeak. Well, so much for that advice. She dearly wished that Cygnus would stop trying to make eye contact with her. Attempting to turn and face the unfortunate colt, she stumbled a little over her own hooves, almost toppling over.

Just say you’re here with somepony.

Another squeak. She felt the heat creeping down her neck now. Cygnus was somewhat attractive, although not without a certain adolescent awkwardness that had pursued him into adulthood. Then again, he could have been a royal guard with the charisma of a compère in the Canterlot playhouses, and Fluttershy would have found the situation no more enjoyable; her desire for inexpert wooing from random colts had never been at a lower ebb.

For Celestia’s sake, just say something!

The silence seemed to stretch onwards. Fluttershy was staring fixedly at a point on the floorboards, and Cygnus, blushing harder than ever, was now looking anywhere but at her.

Come on, Fluttershy! Try to start a conversation or something!

But I’m not even interested in him…

Yes, but you should at least try to talk to ponies you don’t know from time to time. Come on, try and find a shared interest to talk about!

Like what?

Improvise!

“Do… do you like rabbits?”

Oh, Celestia.

Fortunately, her voice had come out so softly that, over the music, there was no way that Cygnus would have been able to make out her words. He took a half-step back, face still burning. “Oh, it’s… if you don’t want to, that’s fine… I’ll… I’ll just…”

The stallion sidled back to his friends, looking thoroughly humiliated. His mortified voice met the equally-humiliated pegasus’s ears. “See? I told you somepony like her wouldn’t be interested…” The group moved quickly away, their voices lost in the general hubbub.

Fluttershy would have liked nothing better than an extremely solid surface against which to hit her head, but none were within immediate reach. Celestia… what idiot ever thought parties were a good idea?

This was not the first time something of that nature had occurred at one of Pinkie’s town-wide get-togethers. Ordinarily, she was with a few of her friends, who were able to keep the situation from developing into something so cringingly awkward by taking up the slack that Fluttershy inevitably left in the conversation.

But really, he didn’t exactly have much finesse, did he? muttered the more courageous, critical side of her mind.

She shook her head, feeling the blood recede a little from her face and neck.

Turning, she saw with a sigh of relief that Trixie had gone on her way, leaving Rarity alone in the crowds, looking around for a friendly face. She made an immediate beeline for the blue-robed figure, doing her best to put the whole mortifying episode out of her mind.

“Rarity!”

The unicorn appeared to be watching something intently through the crowds, her brow creased in a slight frown, but she turned with a smile at the sound of her friend’s voice. “Ah, Fluttershy!” She waited for the pegasus to reach her, her expression one of contrition. “I’m sorry for not greeting you when you first arrived, darling, but I saw you were with Trixie. The poor dear looked just so nervous, I thought it best to let her approach me on her own terms, rather than barge in and make the whole business still more awkward for her.”

Fluttershy smiled. “That’s alright; I guessed it was something like that.”

Rarity giggled, prodding her friend’s shoulder playfully. “And don’t you look rather stunning tonight?”

For what felt like the hundredth time that evening, the pegasus flushed a predictable shade of scarlet, scuffing a hoof timidly against the floorboards. “Well, it is one of your dresses, so if anypony’s going to take the credit, it should really be you,” she mumbled.

“Oh, nonsense,” Rarity admonished, smirking. “If one were to come across an original Trotticelli, it would hardly be fitting to accredit its beauty to the frame, now would it?”

“I wish I had your way with words,” Fluttershy muttered, half rueful and half flattered. “But… thanks, Rarity.”

Rarity suddenly dropped her voice. “Pleasantries aside, you’re certainly correct about Trixie’s reformation. She seemed for all the world an utterly different mare.”

Fluttershy smiled a small, secret smile. “She is a different mare.” She suddenly giggled. “But you’re right; she should definitely have kept her mane that colour.”

The unicorn grinned guiltily. “Oh, you saw that?”

“It’s hard not to notice a Pinkie-Pie-ification spell,” remarked the primrose mare. “But really, thanks for accepting her like that; it really means a lot to her.” She paused for a moment. “It… it means a lot to me, as well.”

Rarity waved an airy hoof. “It would hardly be fitting for a lady to bear a grudge over something so petty, dear. Besides, if she makes you happy, I’m not going to be the one to get in the way of that.” She leaned in conspiratorially, eyes suddenly alight with the fervour of an experienced gossip. “Speaking of which, Fluttershy, have any further developments occurred between you and your little… problem?”

Fluttershy looked away awkwardly, her voice falling to a pitch that was barely audible over the music. “Oh, I… no, not yet. Even if I could work up the courage, I wouldn’t want to risk making things awkward between us.” She shrugged. “Like I said, I want to let her get back on her hooves before I say anything. It’s okay though, I think I’ve gotten it all under control.”

You really are a terrible liar.

Rarity raised one immaculately-penciled eyebrow. “You honestly think that Trixie would harbour even the slightest distaste for such a confession?”

The pegasus’s gaze snapped back to her friend’s. “I… what?”

The unicorn rolled her eyes, looking a little bored, as if she were a professor of mathematics explaining addition to an inattentive three-year-old. “Darling. I saw you come in together, and she can’t keep her eyes off you. Earlier, when you were talking together, she was watching you like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. Whatever it is she does to you, it’s fairly obvious that you do the exact same to her.”

Fluttershy blinked; her cheeks were burning, but her heart seemed suddenly to be quite weightless in her chest. “You… you really think so?”

“I’m not usually wrong about these things, dear.” Rarity tapped her chin with a thoughtful hoof. “You know how all of this time, you’ve been holding back because you’re living together, and you don’t want things to be awkward between you?” She sighed with a melodramatic exasperation. “I would be willing to bet every bit I possess that she’s been refraining from a confession for the precise same reason.”

“So…” Fluttershy’s brain seemed to be running abnormally slowly, as she tried to process this deduction. “You… you’re saying…”

The unicorn grinned. “Darling, I imagine you could kiss her until she was blue in the face… well, bluer, at any rate… and I highly doubt she would utter a single word of complaint. Quite the opposite, I might venture.” She deliberately restrained her smile, turning to look secretively at the pegasus from out of the corner of her eye. “Of course, dear, it’s entirely up to you what use you make of my speculation.” She gave a demure little sigh. “But it would be a pity if all of this theorizing went to waste, wouldn’t it?”

Fluttershy shook her head. This was all so sudden, and what if her friend was wrong? Rarity had made miscalculations of character before, although her skills in identifying social cues were admittedly second to none. “Rarity, I… I just don’t know. I need to think about this.”

Rarity rested a hoof on her shoulder. “Think all you need, darling. There’s no need to rush, and I’m merely offering my opinion. In all seriousness, this is a decision you must make yourself.” She sighed again, and this time, it sounded genuine. “You can at least console yourself that yours is by no means the most difficult or awkward of romantic situations at this party tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

In response, the unicorn pointed a hoof through the crowds, towards the part of the room that Fluttershy had seen her observing earlier. The pegasus’s eyes followed her gesture, alighting on a small, secluded stack of cushions in the corner of the room. It was occupied by Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash, who were entwined so closely together that it was somewhat difficult to tell them apart as separate entities. The fuchsia pony was nibbling on her marefriend’s ear, and the expression on Dash’s face was quite intoxicated, as she nuzzled at the socked foreleg draped around her neck.

“Oh my…” Fluttershy privately wondered if, after this evening was out, she would ever manage to stop blushing again. The room was dotted with couples, many of whom were airing their affection equally candidly, but the pegasus knew why Rarity had singled their two friends out. “Poor Applejack,” she murmured sympathetically.

Rarity nodded. “Indeed; the poor dear’s been through a hard enough time as it is; she doesn’t need to see that.”

“But… surely Pinkie realizes how insensitive they’re being?” Fluttershy asked incredulously.

The unicorn shook her head. “Doubtless she would, but I don’t honestly think she knows of the previous… understanding that Rainbow and Applejack had shared. If you recall, they were both exceedingly private about it, on Applejack’s request, naturally. I think you and I were the only ones of our friends who were informed of the extent of their relationship. Certainly Twilight was never made aware, and I don’t believe Pinkie was ever told. Or if she was, I doubt she assumed their situation was anything more than a friendship with… benefits, shall we say?”

Fluttershy’s eyebrows shot upwards. “I… I never knew Twilight and Pinkie hadn’t been told. Why not let them know?”

“Darling.” Rarity sounded minutely exasperated again. “You and I are capable of keeping secrets, and keeping them well. Twilight, on the other hoof… bless her, she’s the most well-meaning of souls, but she can be a tad absent-minded at times. Equally, Pinkie would never knowingly betray a friend’s trust, but she is a little too gregarious for the good of her secrets, sometimes.” She let out a sympathetic little groan. “Meanwhile, Pinkie’s too oblivious and Dash is too meat-headedly insensitive to realize what Applejack’s going through right now. Combined with the messy breakup… well, had it not been for your constantly sympathetic ear, I don’t doubt that poor Applejack would have begun self-medicating with the hard cider by this time.”

“Thank Celestia it didn’t come to that,” Fluttershy replied, her gaze downcast. “Somepony needs to have a talk with Rainbow about this. I just wish Applejack would tell Pinkie and Twilight, that way Pinkie would make her show some sensitivity, and…” Her voice trailed away, and her eyes suddenly widened with an unpleasant realization. “Where in Equestria is Twilight, anyway?” she asked. In the noisy atmosphere, she had failed to notice the librarian’s absence, but with a slight pang of foreboding she realized that she had not seen Twilight since her visit to the library.

The more defensive, uncharitable side of her mind, however, felt more irritable than concerned.

If she wants to shut herself away and refuse to resolve her worries, that’s her problem.

Rarity shook her head. “I honestly can’t tell you, darling, but I propose that tomorrow we both visit the library and fix things up once and for all. I don’t know what’s the matter with the poor dear, but it must be something serious.”

“Oh, I doubt it.” Fluttershy rolled her eyes, her voice cool. “She’s just being Twilight; I expect she’s got it into her head that Trixie’s trying to steal her friends away, and she’s shut herself up in the library to avoid a problem that doesn’t exist.”

The unicorn was looking at her in surprise, and Fluttershy bit her lip, realizing how unpleasant her words had sounded. “I—I’m sorry,” she faltered. “It’s just… you know Twilight; she gets so worked up over nothing.”

Rarity was still eyeing her friend a little concernedly. “Darling, everypony has their faults,” she said, tentatively. “We just need to be patient with her, stop her from lurking all alone in the library, and explain that everything’s alright over a nice cup of tea.” Her expression was suddenly serious. “If we ignore this, we run the risk of her going off the deep end again, and you remember what happened last time, I’m sure.”

Fluttershy nodded, feeling suddenly intensely guilty. “I should have done something about this sooner, shouldn’t I?”

The unicorn sighed. “You were occupied with Trixie; you can hardly be expected to mediate all of our problems, can you?” She fell again to gazing pensively at their two flamboyant friends, who were now kissing with great enthusiasm. “I just hope we’re not too late.”