Chapter Fifteen

The Seedling

Neither mare could quite remember how they had supported each other, stumbling and giggling, back down the hillside paths to Ponyville.

All Trixie knew was that they were home, and the late afternoon sun was peering inquisitively in through the windows. A fire was flickering warmly in the grate, and the new lovers were lying in a close embrace beneath a blanket on the sofa. They had shared a shower, as both were in dire need of freshening up, although neither had been able to focus on the task at hand. The combination of hot water and close proximity had proved too much for the resolve of either mare, although they had both been too worn out by their earlier activities to accomplish anything more than a few admittedly memorable kisses under the steaming jets.

It was strange, Trixie reflected; now that they had finally been open with one another, it seemed suddenly very difficult to be physically separated. They had both lost track of time beneath the woolen blanket, listening to the fire as it blazed up, before fading silently into subdued embers. Neither felt the need to speak or move, beyond occasionally sharing a few whispered words or a warm, lingering kiss.

Angel had observed these exchanges in mute, dawning horror from a nearby armchair. At length, he hopped off into the kitchen, throwing Trixie a look that implied a grudging acceptance of defeat.

Trixie let out a low sigh, turning her head so Fluttershy’s fur filled her vision. She had almost expected this closeness to ignite resurgent feelings of guilt over Rosemary, but to her surprise, her predominant emotion was contentment.

The faults and hurts of her past naturally still existed, and it pained her to imagine that, somewhere in the world, an embittered Rosemary was possibly still roaming her way from town to town. She still blamed herself for what had transpired, but could now appreciate that further self-flagellation would help nobody. Rosemary had left in the hope of shocking her back to reality, and Trixie knew full well that the pragmatic earth mare would want her to feel able to forgive herself.

In truth though, Trixie felt as if her days before she had happened upon this cottage were part of a past that did not belong to her. Her life in the Everfree had been a world apart from her travelling days, but her life with Fluttershy felt a universe away from what she had experienced in the past. For almost the first time in her life, she dared to hope. She no longer felt that strange gravitation of power held just out of reach, and nor did she feel the crippling sting of those inadequacies that had driven her to search for greatness.

Since her foalhood, the idea of a normal, sheltered life had terrified her. It was a fear that still gnawed at the back of her mind, but now it was mitigated by a certain doubt. Now, she could not help but wonder if such a thing as a normal life existed. She could not help but wonder if any life—if properly nurtured—might not become extraordinary, without any need for the shortcuts provided by such vague ideas as destiny.

She let her eyes drift shut for a few moments. One of Fluttershy’s wings was draped softly around her back, the warmth of the silken down almost rivaling the heat that radiated from the fire. Fluttershy’s chest was shifting with deep, regular breaths, and she let out a loving murmur as she enveloped the unicorn tighter in her wing.

“How long?” Trixie asked idly, running a hoof through Fluttershy’s mane. “How long have you… felt like this?”

Fluttershy shifted comfortably, nestling into the unicorn’s coat. “I don’t know exactly,” she admitted. “I cared about you from the start, because you needed help. You were scared and lost, but you were fascinating too; I wanted to understand you so badly. I can’t really put my hoof on when that care turned into… well, something else… but it didn’t take long.” She sighed. “How about you?”

“That first night,” Trixie said in a small voice. “I don’t know if I could really tell what it was at the time, but… you hypnotized me.” She kissed the mare’s warm neck in a lazy, contented motion. “You were so caring, and gentle, and… Celestia, I don’t know how I worked all that out from just seeing you for a few seconds.” She shrugged. “Call me a romantic idiot, but maybe I’m a better judge of character than I thought.”

Fluttershy flushed, smiling with her usual timidity. She did not offer a verbal response, but leaned up to press her lips softly to her marefriend’s. “This is… strange, isn’t it?” she asked at length as she pulled back away with a tiny shiver.

Trixie closed her eyes, lazily settling back against Fluttershy’s side. “How do you mean?”

“Well, when ponies usually… you know, get together… it’s normally a process, isn’t it?” The pegasus giggled. “You know, dates and all that sort of thing. We’ve not exactly stuck to the formula.”

Trixie could not hold back a chuckle of her own. “Most ponies don’t meet the way we did,” she replied. “I guess saving my life might’ve moved things on a bit, and I suppose… we already knew each other, in a way, didn’t we?”

“Mhm…” Fluttershy nodded. “I just… I wish I’d said something sooner.”

“I know what you mean.” The unicorn sighed. “I guess I didn’t want to make things awkward between us, or embarrass you.”

The primrose mare nodded again. “Exactly, I thought it’d be wrong to make a move if you didn’t have any choice but to live with me.”

Trixie turned to meet her eyes. “You were taking care of me, and you were just so innocent and lovely, I felt like I was dirtying you by feeling that way.”

Fluttershy bit her lip. “I know, it just felt so…”

“…irresponsible.” They spoke the word together. For a few long moments, they gazed at each other.

A tiny smile tugged at Trixie’s lips. “Celestia, we’ve been silly, haven’t we?”

Fluttershy laughed her infectious, carefree laugh, and caught the giggling unicorn in a fresh kiss. Trixie relaxed, allowing her lover to do as she pleased. For the moment, she was quite content to simply drink in the scent of her fur, the velvet smoothness of her coat, and the taste of her insistent tongue.

After a few delicious minutes—once Fluttershy had kissed her fill—Trixie regained her breath with no small effort, grinning widely. “Wow,” she panted, unable for the moment to settle upon a more articulate response. She felt hot all over, her skin prickling as she ran a sensual hoof down Fluttershy’s side, savouring the shape of every now-familiar curve.

The pegasus smiled, her cheeks rosy once more, still breathing hard from the kiss. She looked stunned by her ability to make such intimate gestures entirely of her own accord. Knowing Fluttershy’s timid nature, Trixie was quite aware of the level of trust her lover was placing in her. When in the company of most ponies, the pegasus found even eye contact to be a significant hurdle, let alone the far more sensual forms of contact that she had, for the first time, felt fully able to share.

Every kiss they shared was more than an expression of love; it was an expression of the deepest trust. Each time Fluttershy reached out to embrace her, Trixie found herself a little humbled by the faith this timid, delicate mare was willing to place in her.

Suddenly, a question occurred to the unicorn, one that had been tugging at the back of her mind for a few days. “Fluttershy? When you brought me back from the forest… did you find my journal?”

The pegasus thought for a second, but shook her head, her eyes a little downcast. “I… I’m sorry. When I brought you back, there was a knife strapped to your leg, but that was all you were carrying.”

Trixie nodded. “S’okay, I didn’t think you had, I guess I just—” She broke off with a little sigh, nuzzling the timid mare’s forehead. “It doesn’t matter; there wasn’t anything important in there.” She smiled, a little sadly. “It’s strange,” she murmured. “Living in that forest, all your life just becomes about things. Things to keep you warm, things to keep you fed and clean… things to keep you alive. There’s never enough, but that’s what makes you hang on to the things you have.”

“Do you think it helped?” Fluttershy did not need to clarify her question.

The unicorn thought for a few moments. “It… it gave me time. It made me be alone with myself; I couldn’t keep running so I didn’t have any choice but to look back. I couldn’t move on, though. I went into the forest to escape, but I wasn’t trying to get away from the world, I was trying to get away from myself. And there I was, with nothing but myself for company, and I… I couldn’t face up to it.” Unconsciously, she clutched Fluttershy a little closer. “I made all these little excuses about why I was there, who I was, what I needed to do to turn my life around. I wrote them all down, trying to tell myself over and over… I always was good at lying to myself, but by this time I couldn’t face her anymore, I’d pushed her to the back of my head, so I couldn’t even lie to convince myself anymore. Looking back, it’s obvious why I was frozen, why I wasn’t fighting.”

“Why?” Fluttershy whispered.

Trixie closed her eyes for a moment. “All my life, I believed in destiny. I believed I was meant for something, anything better than being slaves to chance like other ponies. I’d make myself futures, I’d give myself things I could dream or believe in, chance after chance… I’m an illusionist, and I tricked myself so well, but by the time I’d dragged myself back to that forest… do you really think I had a single thing left that was worth fighting for?”

Fluttershy nodded. “But…” She bit her lip, cheeks colouring a little. “Now?”

Trixie met her eyes in silence. It was answer enough.

The pegasus sighed, but the sound was a contented one. “I’m glad.” She suddenly shifted a little, gazing almost unblinkingly at her lover. “You make me feel so safe,” she murmured. “I… you know I love my friends, and I couldn’t ask for more understanding ponies in my life, but… oh, I don’t know. Sometimes, I’ll do something silly; I’ll jump at my own shadow, or get scared by heights and forget I can fly. They’ll all look at me, and they’re so caring; none of them would dream of laughing at me, not for a second, but when I look at their faces, I can see the pity there. They know how I am, and they empathize, and they accept, and deep down… they feel sorry for me.” She stroked Trixie’s cheek with a touch that was almost wondering. “You don’t pity me,” she breathed.

“Of course I don’t,” Trixie replied in a small voice, smiling shyly. “You’re one of the strongest ponies I’ve ever known.”

Fluttershy opened her mouth to protest, but Trixie had fallen to kissing at her neck with an exquisite gentleness, and the pegasus’s words seemed to lose themselves before they could form. She gave a little whimper, leaning her head over, the better to allow the unicorn access to the sensitive skin.

As Trixie ceased her nuzzles, Fluttershy’s stomach gave an audible gurgle. The sound made the unicorn realize just how hungry she was, and she giggled at the pegasus’s sudden blush. “Let’s fix some lunch,” she suggested, grinning.

Fluttershy nodded, pressing a final kiss against her marefriend’s cheek. “Good idea,” she murmured, unwillingly extricating herself from the unicorn’s forelegs.

Trixie got to her hooves, disentangling herself from the blanket with a wry smile. “I should probably have brought some breakfast up the hill with me, shouldn’t I?”

The pegasus flushed a little, smirking. “To be honest, I… um… I’d say this morning was just fine as it was.”

“Only fine?” Trixie teased, clutching at her chest with a dramatic hoof, her expression playfully affronted.

“Well…” Fluttershy tilted her head thoughtfully for a second, chewing on her lower lip. “Mhm… better than fine,” she agreed after a moment’s faux-contemplation. Her cheeks were glowing; she was clearly unused to discussing such intimate matters so lightheartedly. Quite unexpectedly, she let out a sudden giggle, nosing at Trixie’s cheek as they walked into the kitchen together.

After gently evicting a belligerent Angel, who appeared to be attempting to drown his sorrows in carrot juice, they settled upon an old favourite in the form of omelettes. Trixie fell to slicing mushrooms, as Fluttershy took on the less dexterous task of grating cheese.

“Hey…” Fluttershy turned, as if at a sudden thought. “How was the party? I completely forgot with everything that happened… how was everypony?”

Trixie bit her lip, focusing on the mushrooms on the chopping board, pondering her response. “To be honest, everypony was really welcoming for the most part,” she replied at length, weighing her words carefully. “Obviously there were one or two hiccoughs, but all in all I think it went well.”

Fluttershy raised an eyebrow, looking a little concerned. “Hiccoughs?”

“Well, Rarity was absolutely fine, like you’d expect,” continued Trixie, staying for the moment in safe territory. “You saw Pinkie, and as for Applejack… well, she took a little convincing, and it might be a while before she trusts me completely, but she didn’t seem to bear a grudge.” Trixie shrugged, magically dropping a frying pan onto the stove, and beginning to search for the butter dish.

Fluttershy’s expression was suddenly a little stony. “And Rainbow Dash?” she asked, clearly unconvinced by Trixie’s attempt at nonchalance.

Trixie bit her lip. “I…” She broke off, and shook her head. “I don’t think I really got through to her, to be honest.” She took a breath, feeling that there was little else she could do, and launched into the story. She explained how she had confronted Dash over the spiked drinks, and how the pegasus had turned on her in front of the watching crowd. She described how Applejack and Pinkie had intervened and led Dash away, and how, bizarrely, the altercation had led to the first meaningful conversation between Applejack and Rainbow Dash for weeks. Finally, she told the primrose mare how Cheerilee had taken her away from the scene, and that she had no idea if Applejack had succeeded in bringing Dash around,

Long before she had finished speaking, Trixie knew, at that moment, she did not envy Rainbow Dash in the slightest. Fluttershy showed no overt signs of anger, but she seemed somehow to bristle, her eyes hardening.

“…But it’s okay! I mean, I never expected everypony to forgive me so easily; everypony’s given me more credit than I deserve, to be honest.” The unicorn sighed. “Besides, if it got Rainbow Dash and Applejack talking again, it’s not too bad, is it?” she finished, almost pleadingly.

“She had no right to make a scene like that,” said Fluttershy, quietly. “If she didn’t trust you, she could have talked to you in private. She didn’t need to humiliate you like that.” Her tail was swishing dangerously.

“She was angry,” Trixie conceded. “But she had every right to be, after what I did. I’ve spent half my life dragging ponies up and humiliating them in front of crowds, so…” She shrugged helplessly, her voice tailing away.

Fluttershy pawed at the kitchen tiles, shaking her head. “That’s no excuse,” she snorted. “You’re trying to move on; anypony with half a brain can see you’re a different mare now. She could have the decency to give you a second chance, once you’d apologized.”

“Applejack got between us just after I’d apologised,” Trixie returned. “I don’t know, she might have accepted it! I think she realized I was genuine, she just didn’t want to back down and admit she was wrong in front of a crowd like that.”

“Do you really think she’d have changed her mind like that?” Fluttershy’s voice was almost scathing.

Trixie could not respond, but her silence was obviously answer enough, because Fluttershy shook her head again. “She’s not going to treat you like that,” she whispered. “Next time I see her, we’re going to have a little chat.”

“Fluttershy,” Trixie begged. Crossing the kitchen in two steps, she clutched the pegasus tightly by the shoulders. The mare was actually shivering slightly with anger. “Listen to me,” she murmured, resting a hoof on Fluttershy’s cheek, forcing her to meet her gaze. “I don’t want you to be like this, alright?” She sighed. “I don’t want you to go throwing away your friendships to protect me. I’m not worth that.”

“You’ve been through enough,” Fluttershy hissed.

“Exactly!” Trixie held her closer. “I’ve been through enough, I’ve got enough on my conscience, and I can’t live knowing that I made you drive away your friends for my sake. I know you want to protect me; I know how angry it makes you if you think somepony’s threatening me. You’d feel the same way if someone threatened your animal friends.” She shook her head, her eyes welling up a little. “But… if you start pushing your friends away because you think that’ll protect me, that’d hurt me so, so much more than anything they could ever do. I love you so much, but I’m not selfish enough to sit back and watch you make me your only lifeline.”

Fluttershy was no longer shivering; she seemed somehow diminished, and her breathing was a little shaky. Trixie dropped her voice to a low, soothing tone. “Last night, when you learned how many ponies Pinkie had invited… you were scary. And I don’t know quite what happened the day you took me in, but I think something happened between you and Applejack.” The pegasus winced a little at the farm-pony’s name, and Trixie nodded. “Exactly. You could have had two fights with your best friends already, and all on my account. I’m so grateful that you want to protect me; it means such a lot, but do you think for one second that I want to see you turn into a…” She halted, her voice becoming choked up and inaudible.

“Oh Celestia…” Fluttershy’s statuesque form relaxed a little, and she reciprocated Trixie’s embrace, her shoulders beginning to shake with sobs. “I’m—I’m so sorry… I j-just can’t stand seeing you put through more pain, after e-everything you’ve already… I… Oh, y-you’re right. You’re so much stronger now; you don’t need me biting everypony’s heads off.” She buried her face in Trixie’s shoulder. “I’ve been stupid, haven’t I? I just… I just wanted to see you safe.”

“I am safe,” Trixie promised, quietly. “I’m safe because you cared for me; because you helped me for no good reason, other than because I needed help. But now I’m stronger; I want us to be able to care for each other. But I…I never want you to have to fight for me, and I promise you, you’ll never have to choose between me and your friends.”

Fluttershy let out a drawn-out sigh. “I… thank you,” she whispered, a slight shake still distorting her voice. “If you want to go and talk to Rainbow sometime… if you bring me along for moral support, I promise I won’t yell at her. I’m not happy with her; I think she acted like a bully, but if you can let that pass, then I can too.”

Trixie pressed a kiss against her forehead, pulling away from the embrace. “Thanks, Fluttershy,” she murmured, as she returned to chopping the neglected mushrooms. “And you haven’t been stupid,” she added, a little sternly. “You were just protective; it’s in your nature.” She pushed the neatly-sliced mushrooms aside, and set about heating the frying pan and breaking eggs.

Fluttershy suddenly took in a sharp breath, as if at an unpleasant thought. “Oh no…” she whispered.

The unicorn turned, concerned. “What is it?”

The primrose mare swallowed. “I have been stupid. What about Twilight?”

“How do you mean?”

Fluttershy clapped a hoof to her forehead, the block of cheese forgotten. “Twilight’s been shut up in her library for days now; nopony’s heard a single word from her. She didn’t even come to the party yesterday, and I’ve never known her to miss one of Pinkie’s parties. I… I should have gone to see her sooner.” She sighed, shaking her head dispiritedly. “You’re right; I’ve been forgetting my friends. I’ve been telling myself that she was being stupid, that she was worrying over nothing, and that it wasn’t my job to run around trying to untie whatever tangles she’s managed to get her head into.”

Trixie shrugged. “But… if she just doesn’t want to speak to anypony, why’s that—”

“Because we all made a promise,” Fluttershy cut across her. “The thing is, I was probably right. She probably is just worrying over nothing, but I’ve seen what happens when Twilight worries about nothing.” She bit her lip, guiltily. “One time, things got… well, they got pretty bad. Twilight’s always tended to be a little… obsessive, you could say. This one day, she went around and around in circles over a tiny little worry, and ended up coming up with the most ridiculous, destructive solution. It was never going to do any good; it was never going to do anything but get her in trouble, but that’s exactly it. When she gets in that kind of state, she’s just not sensible.”

“How was that your fault, though?” Trixie pressed, bemused.

“We could have headed her off,” replied Fluttershy, a little glumly. “The five of us, I mean. If we’d just taken it seriously we could have stopped her from running herself ragged, but it was such a trivial little thing…” She winced. “Until Celestia got involved, that is.” She shook her head again, her lips twitching humourlessly at Trixie’s expression of surprise. We all told the princess that, in future, we’d be sure to take our friends’ worries seriously, no matter how unimportant they seemed to us. Of course, that wasn’t really what we were promising; it was all so nice and diplomatic, but really we were promising the princess that we wouldn’t let it happen again, and… well, that we’d keep an eye on Twilight.”

“And now you’re worried, because Twilight’s been shut up in her library for days, and you’ve dismissed whatever’s the matter as her just being ‘Twilight-ish’,” surmised Trixie.

Fluttershy nodded weakly.

“Hey,” said the unicorn bracingly. “It’s probably not that bad. You’ve had a lot on your mind lately, and it’s not as if you’re her only friend.” Privately suspecting that this lunch was doomed never to be finished, she set down the egg-whisk and crossed the kitchen once again. “The others will have visited her, won’t they?”

“Will they?” Fluttershy countered, helplessly. “Rainbow and Pinkie aren’t really aware of anything outside their own little world, and AJ’s been too caught up with getting over Rainbow to do much beyond working the farm. I know Rarity visited a few days ago, but there wasn’t any reply.”

“Well then,” said Trixie. “If she’s not letting anypony in, there’s not much you can do, is there?” Fluttershy did not respond, and the former showmare sighed. “I… I’m sorry. I never wanted to disrupt your life like this; from what you’ve said, it sounds like Twilight’s shutting herself up because of me, and now you’re feeling guilty for not seeing her sooner, and I just—”

She broke off. Apparently both seeking and offering reassurance, Fluttershy had entwined their necks together, burying her face in Trixie’s powder-blue mane. “I love you,” the pegasus whispered forcefully. “I know I’ve been an idiot because of how I felt about you, and maybe Twilight really is trying to avoid you, but whatever’s happened… Oh, it’s not your fault, and don’t you think for a second that I regret any of this.” She closed her eyes, breathing in Trixie’s scent and letting her tense muscles relax. “I’ll go to the library later this evening,” she said quietly, her tone far calmer now. “Somepony needs to talk to her, but all she’s done so far is shut herself away, so there’s a good chance she’s just hiding away from the world because it’s all become too much. Just because she’s being irrational, that doesn’t mean she’ll always be destructive too.”

Trixie nodded. “I think that’s best,” she replied, stroking a soothing forehoof over her marefriend’s withers. “And I love you too,” she added in a still-lower voice, pulling back a little to meet the pegasus’s eyes, shyly seeking a tacit permission. Fluttershy complied gratefully, pressing her muzzle to Trixie’s in a warm kiss which, like her embrace, seemed to both take and offer a strange, symbiotic comfort. The pegasus’s wings twitched, and she giggled bashfully into the deepening kiss.

At that moment, there came a loud knock on the door. With a little moan of annoyance, Fluttershy pulled unwillingly away, playfully flicking Trixie’s nose with her mane as she retreated. “I’d better get that,” she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

The unicorn followed, casting a rueful look back at their unfinished lunch, for which she was gradually giving up hope. She nosed playfully at Fluttershy’s wing as they crossed the room, drawing a fresh giggle from the pegasus, who batted her muzzle gently away with the feathered appendage. Throwing a look back over her shoulder that could only mean ‘later’, Fluttershy pulled the door ajar.

Both mares froze. On the doormat stood Pinkie Pie, accompanied by a somewhat bashful-looking Rainbow Dash.

The cyan mare, seemingly far less self-assured today than she had been the previous night, half-raised a hoof. “Uh, hey,” she said, a little awkwardly.

Fluttershy was gazing at Dash, but Trixie’s eyes were on the primrose pegasus, nervously gauging her reaction. For a split-second, Fluttershy’s expression had darkened, but then she glanced momentarily at Trixie. She seemed to take a breath, nodding imperceptibly, as if to say, “it’s okay, I won’t do anything.”

Even so, it was with a slight stiffness that she said, “Hi, Rainbow.” Nevertheless, to the unicorn’s relief, she relaxed into a smile when greeting Pinkie.

Trixie felt herself relax; she had half-expected Fluttershy to lose control again and begin berating her friend. Now that her more immediate concern had abated, Trixie turned her attention to the ponies on the doorstep. Dash was looking from her to Fluttershy; it was as if she wanted to speak, but could not quite bring herself to do so.

Pinkie was smiling, apparently unaware of the frisson Fluttershy had momentarily generated. She was wearing two pairs of bright blue earmuffs, one over the other, as if in the hope of compounding their warming effect. She broke the sudden silence, stamping her hooves and shivering. “Hey, Flutters! Trixie! Mind if we come in? We’re freezing our hoofsies off out here and I dunno what I’d do without mine!”

Fluttershy nodded, still looking a little confused. “I… sure, come in…” Her voice tailed away, and she stood aside to allow her friends entry. Trixie noticed that Dash was studiously avoiding her eyes, although whether it was a gesture of shame or acrimony, she did not know.

Pinkie wasted no time in making herself at home, hanging up both pairs of earmuffs on the coat-stand, and trotting over to the fire to warm herself up. Dash, on the other hand, seemed a little less comfortable as she trotted across the room, standing by the sofa without sitting down.

Trixie eyed the pegasus a little warily. “Why are you here?” The question was directed at Rainbow Dash, but Trixie had not intended for her tone to be so blunt. Faced once again with this brash mare, however, Trixie could not bring herself to feign friendliness. She did not want to be responsible for destroying Fluttershy’s friendship with Dash, but she herself felt no obligation to play at politeness; not after the treatment she had received the previous night.

Dash opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. She turned to Pinkie, who gave her a stern look, gesturing towards Trixie with a jerk of her head. Her expression was exceptionally reminiscent of a mother coaxing her unwilling child into a reconciliation.

The sky-blue mare returned her gaze to Trixie, scratching at the back of her head with an awkward hoof. “Look…” Her tone was not exactly friendly, but there was no overt hostility in her voice, at any rate. “I… I was outta line last night. I shouldn’a chewed you out in front of everypony like that.” She shook her head. “S’funny, really; after what ya said, I really did believe you, but… I dunno, I didn’t wanna back down.” She shrugged, finally meeting Trixie’s eyes. “I’m not sayin’ I trust you, but—” She broke off. For a moment, her voice had sounded a little shaky, but it was steady when she spoke again. “AJ was right. Whatever I think of you, I’m not a bully, an’ I shouldn’t have acted like one.” She paused for a second. “I’m… I’m sorry.” The last two words tumbled out in a great rush, as if she were attempting to rid herself of their burden before she lost her nerve.

Trixie wanted to say that it was alright, but in truth, she did not know if it was alright or not. Dash had made it quite clear that she was only apologizing for making her tirade so public, not for the tirade itself. It could not have been plainer that she would have to work hard to convince this mare that she was worth forgiving.

That said, whilst it was hardly perfect, Trixie could recognize an olive branch when she saw one. She could hardly expect the whole town to forgive and forget as easily as Fluttershy, and maybe that was for the best. She gave a tentative smile, and held out a hoof. “S’okay,” she said quietly, trying not to smirk at how Dash’s cool self-assurance vanished when her pride was, for the moment, swallowed.

Dash touched the pad of her hoof, her own lips twitching, apparently against her will. “You do seem pretty different,” she mumbled, grudgingly. She turned to Pinkie, rolling her eyes. “’Course, Pinks wouldn’t let me rest after I owned up to feelin’ bad about last night,” she remarked dryly. “Kept sayin’ I ought to pony up and set things right.”

Pinkie nodded succinctly. “There’s nothing weak in admitting you made a mistake, Dashie,” she said with an uncharacteristic gentleness.

Dash shrugged, as if suggesting she did not want to stretch the point too far. “That’s not sayin’ I trust you yet,” she shot at Trixie.

“I trust her,” piped up Pinkie, frowning a little.

“So do I,” chipped in Fluttershy, speaking at last. Until this time, the pegasus had seemed content to stand back and listen to the conversation, but now she seemed to have decided to contribute. “Look, Rainbow… what you saw back then… it was an act. If you put up a façade long enough, it becomes your life. You went through flight school, with all its petty little hierarchies; to this day you feel the need to act so tough, even around your closest friends. You know what it’s like to get stuck under a mask. I don’t know who she was before, but you met Trixie for the first time last night.”

Dash opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Pinkie was looking at Fluttershy in surprise, as if taken aback by her insight.

“Yeah, I guess,” mumbled Dash at length, scuffing a hoof against the floorboards.

“Look,” Trixie said a little suddenly, taking a step towards the pegasus. “I realize you’re not the kind who trusts easily, not if somepony’s already shown they’re… well, less than trustworthy. I know I’ve got to work to earn that trust back, but… I’m okay with that.”

Dash nodded, and shrugged once again. “I guess it doesn’t really matter either way,” she conceded. “You’re living with ‘Shy here, it’s her trust that matters, an’ if she trusts you… well, she’s not normally wrong.” She let out a sigh, breaking eye contact again. “An’ what ‘Shy says about your act… if that’s true… I know how bad it gets.” She gave a weak half-smile. “Welcome back, I guess.”

Trixie smiled. She knew perfectly well that the pegasus’s welcome was not referring to her return to Ponyville. “Thanks.”

Fluttershy seemed to suddenly perk up, now that this tentative peace had been established, and she cleared her throat. “Um… anypony want to stay for lunch?”

At her words, Trixie’s stomach gave another audible rumble. Pinkie and Dash both nodded, looking quite relieved. “Sure beats going out in that snow again,” noted Dash, breaking into a true smile at the mention of food. “Cheers, ‘Shy.”

Pinkie also grinned, bouncing several times on the spot with apparent enthusiasm. “Sounds good to me, Flutters!”

At that moment, the kitchen door creaked open. Angel emerged, having apparently delved back into the cupboards, and made his way across the living room, dragging a bottle of carrot juice behind him. It seemed the prospect of no longer being the sole object of Fluttershy’s affections was proving a difficult one to countenance. With one last baleful glance back at the room in general, he hopped through the animal flap in the door, and disappeared. Trixie supposed he was heading for his hutch, in the hopes of finding some measure of peace.

“Poor fella looks like he’s having a rough day,” remarked Pinkie. “What’s up with him?”

Fluttershy glanced at Trixie, and smiled. “Oh, you know…” She shrugged. “Learning to share, I suppose.”

Trixie burst out laughing, more out of relief than anything. With some difficulty, she resisted leaning over to kiss the pegasus, who had also begun giggling. She had not the faintest idea how Fluttershy’s friends would react to their newfound relationship, nor did she know if Ponyville’s suddenly-reclusive librarian would eventually let herself be coaxed out for a face-to-face meeting.

For the moment, however, it hardly seemed to matter. Today was a good day.