Chapter Two

The false world Trixie had spent the past decade building shook with every forward step of Twilight’s canter. She strode purposely down the preponderance of steps that led toward the stage, toward her nemesis and the baby dragon whom she'd once called friend.

Trixie was at once alarmed and delighted. She hadn't seen her old mentor in ages, and the prospect of finally settling their grudge filled her with a sense of both dread and joy. She wanted to be done with the specter of her old life that was Twilight Sparkle, but she would miss the pompous fool. In her eyes, Twilight was the only other pony in the entire world, and with her gone, Trixie would be left with nothing but the countless swarming droves of insects to keep her company.

Trixie felt Spike's claws curl into tight fists around the back of her mane. The baby dragon quavered against her back with equal parts anger and fear as his sharp eyes pierced the night, following Twilight's steady descent. His feelings, like Trixie’s, were mixed as well. Twilight was once his friend too, though, that had been a long time ago.

Twilight's horn sparked as she cantered past the front row seats, and a short column of stone steps rose from the ground. She ascended the steps, which had created a thoroughfare between the floor and the raised stage, and stood face-to-face with The Great and Powerful Trixie.

Trixie brushed a lock of silver mane from her face and batted her eyelashes. The gesture was subtle, perhaps involuntary, and flirtatious in a sheepish way. Twilight’s heart fluttered in her chest. She hadn’t seen Trixie in years, but the performer still held power enough in her stunning purple eyes to make Twilight weak in the knees. Twilight blushed, and the vision of pale red coloring her deep purple cheeks threatened to thaw the thick layer of ice that now caged Trixie’s heart. Her eyes traced the curve of Twilight’s red face, then stopped and lingered on the full, velveteen lips of a mouth that was slightly ajar, frozen in speechlessness.

A moment passed between them that was more awkward than hostile, causing them to look away hurriedly. Both had devised such elaborate plans in anticipation of this day. Both had practiced what they would say, how they would act. But now that the moment was upon them, it appeared that nothing would come of their scheming. Like colliding positive and negative charges, they seemed to simultaneously complete and negate each other.

Nothing was said for a long time as each of them sorted through their feelings.  

Spike broke the silence. "What are you doing here?" he growled at Twilight through bared fangs.

Upon hearing his tiny voice, Trixie was shaken from her entrancement, and had to fight a sudden and violent urge to laugh aloud. The vigor in Spike’s tone was enormous, and yet, Trixie couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly at how greatly his anger paled in comparison to her own emotions, and to the emotions that had invaded her rival's normally composed demeanor. He was an enraged ant shouting up at an Ursa, tragically unaware of his own insignificance.

Trixie paid him no mind. Her sparkling giant had returned to her, and for the time being Trixie's false world had narrowed to a pair of lavender lips.  

Twilight ignored Spike as well. Not because she wanted to, but because acknowledging his presence would have hurt too much.

"I know how you did it," said Twilight, addressing Trixie in a severe tone of voice. "I know how you made them forget me. I've figured out your trick."

Trixie laughed, a cruel high pitched sound that came from the back of her throat. "No you haven’t," she answered dismissively. "If you understood how Trixie did it, you would have reversed the spell by now. Your presence here only tells Trixie that you are growing desperate.”

Twilight started to protest, but Trixie shushed her with another flirtatious gesture. Trixie wasn’t ready to play Twilight's game of accusations just yet. She flicked her tail in Twilight’s face as she began circling the purple mare, bubbling with glee at the way Twilight's eyes instinctively traced the contours of her curvaceous hips and thighs and haunches. Here was a power that Trixie, even as a humble student, had always wielded over her master—and it delighted her to know that she could still strip away her mentor’s concentration with nothing but a glance and a turn.

"Clover the Clever," said Twilight, after several seconds of attempting, without success, to tear her gaze from Trixie’s dock. If the name meant anything to Trixie, caused her any concern, she hid it well.

"Oh, do go on, darling. I've missed your rants so dearly," said Trixie in a tone that only might have been sarcastic.

"During the years that followed the founding of Equestria, Clover the Clever created a spell capable of manipulating a pony's memories," Twilight began, her voice taking on a familiar studious quality, as if she were delivering an oral report before a classroom. "Clover had discovered a way to reach into a pony's mind and extract pre-existing memories, as well as implant new, artificial ones. Originally, the spell was created to settle the lingering animosity that still existed between pony tribes. Clover’s plan to deal with those ponies still harboring prejudice was to simply make them forget that prejudice."

"What is she talking about, Trix?" asked Spike, lost in the cataract of information pouring from Twilight's mouth.

"Hush, Spike," said Trixie. She spoke with the same measure of patience as before, but now there was a noticeable edge to her tone. Spike fell silent and didn't interrupt again.

"But her mentor Starswirl the Bearded rejected the idea," continued Twilight, monetarily losing sight of Trixie as the performer circled behind her. "He deemed such manipulation unethical, and ordered that Clover use the spell on herself. Thus...” The caress of Trixie’s tail against Twilight's backside caused her to shudder and let out a startled squeak. “Thus…”—she breathed sharply, trying to find her focus—“...forever ridding the world of such a terrible power."

Twilight paused. She had been shaken by Trixie's advances needed a moment to collect herself.

"Clover did as her teacher instructed—" Twilight began anew, only to be interrupted by Trixie.

"But not before writing down everything she had learned about manipulating a pony's mind," said Trixie, completing Twilight’s sentence. She dragged her tail along Twilight’s side as she finished circling the purple unicorn. "She encrypted her notes with a complex code before hiding them away among the many tombs that would later make up the Royal Archives…"

Trixie chewed impishly on a strand of her silver mane. “Somepony's been doing her homework," she grinned. "Nice to see you haven’t let yourself go, darling. You're just as sharp as I remember. In mind...and body."

Trixie tried to stroke Twilight's cheek, but the purple mare hastily swatted her hoof aside.

"Don't touch me," Twilight hissed as she retreated a few steps.

"Touchy, touchy." Trixie followed Twilight's retreat until the purple mare's hind legs reached the edge of the stage. "Resist all you like, darling. But Trixie predicts you will take her one last time before the sun rises," she prophesied.

Spike felt a strong urge to climb down from Trixie’s back. He wasn’t surprised to see that Trixie still had feelings for Twilight. They had been inseparable during their years as student and mentor—and it was no secret that their relationship had been…physical…for a time. But Spike didn’t understand how Trixie could be so forward with Twilight now, especially after all that had transpired between them.

"It was believed that Clover's spell had been lost for all time," Twilight said clumsily, fury rising in her tone. "That is, until seven years ago when you found it and discovered a way to use it on every pony in Equestria."

With her explanation finished, Twilight stepped closer to her nemesis, glowering. They stood mere inches apart, equal in height, size, and conviction. At a glance, and in the proper lighting, they could have been mistaken for sisters

Trixie stomped her front hoof in droning applause.

"An interesting theory, to be sure," she said, refusing to be intimidated by Twilight’s aggressive scowl. "You haven't changed at all, darling. You are still every bit the paranoid fool you were ten years ago." Trixie closed what little distance remained between them, enjoying the warm caress of Twilight’s breath against her mouth and cheeks. The purple mare's breathing was nervous and labored; not greatly, but enough for Trixie to notice. “But then again, maybe you have changed. You didn't used to get distracted so easily.” Trixie turned a cheek to Twilight and tugged the collar of her cape downward, offering her rival the base of her elegant neck.

Twilight felt a consuming desire to part her lips and lean forward...

"Is it true?" asked Spike as he hopped down from Trixie's back, disgusted less by Trixie’s whorish display and more by Twilight’s story about Clover the Clever. "About Clover and changing memories. Is any of that…” Spike’s voice trailed off. He shut his eyes and shook his head in frustration, not understanding, and honestly not wanting to.

But the question he now voiced was not a new one. It had always been at the back of his head, always on the tip of his tongue, nagging him like an itch he couldn’t scratch. There were nights when Spike would toss and turn in restless sleep, dreaming of the night Twilight turned her back on him.

The memory was real; he knew it was. And yet…there was something odd about his recollection of that night. There were times when the memory would change—never drastically—but occasionally it would be peppered with little inconsistencies. Sometimes Spike remembered Twilight bursting through a stained glass window and challenging Celestia in the throne room. Other times it was the wall or the ceiling she charged through, reducing huge chunks of the castle to rubble with powerful blasts of magical energy. Sometimes the duel stayed in the throne room, and other times the violence spilled out into the courtyard.

And what had he been doing in Canterlot that night in the first place? Had he been performing some royal duty? Visiting, perhaps? And if he was just paying her majesty a visit, why hadn’t Twilight been with him?

Spike couldn't remember. He thought the reason for his being at the palace that day should have been too important a detail to just fall out of his head, but Trixie had assured him that the stress caused by Twilight’s attack had affected his memory. The explanation made some sense—but while Spike was young and naive, he was no fool. He had always been bothered by the way Trixie so plainly talked around the problem of his missing memories. And whenever somepony brought up the events surrounding that night, Trixie was always quick to change the subject, claiming that it wounded her to much to relive her lover’s betrayal.  

He had never had a reason to distrust Trixie before, but with her odd behavior around Twilight, and all this talk of altering memories...

Spike peered up at his new best friend, as well as his old, and posed his question again. Neither unicorn answered or even dared to meet his gaze.

"Spike," Trixie said. "Run along to our room at the castle. Twilight and Trixie need to continue this discussion in private."

Spike didn't budge. He started to say something just as Twilight finally summoned the courage to look the dragon in the eye. And when her twin pools of light and lavender found Spike’s gaze, the words forming in his mind evaporated. He looked away. Then he scurried off with a grumble, climbing down the steps Twilight had created, and then up those along the stadium seats that led toward the front entrance.

Twilight felt a pang of regret as she watched him go. She felt the fissure in her already cracked heart widen as he disappeared into the distance. She blinked away a single stinging tear, not wanting to grant Trixie the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"That must have been hard for you," said Trixie, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. She pressed her chest against Twilight’s and shuddered with arousal. "He hates you, you know. They don't all hate you, but Spike really took your betrayal to heart. I don't think he'll ever find it in himself to forgive—"

"Shut up, Trixie," Twilight interrupted. The purple unicorn shook from the effort needed to restrain herself. "That's enough. You've made your point."

Silence descended for a few moments.

Trixie was the first to speak again. She pulled Twilight into a tight embrace and whispered, "It's cold out tonight. Care to continue this conversation someplace warm?"

"What makes you think I want to talk?" said Twilight. She didn't welcome Trixie's hug, but she couldn't find the strength to retreat from it either. Trixie was soft and warm, whereas the world Twilight had been trapped in all these years was hard and cold.

Trixie laughed at Twilight's question. "Oh please, darling, do stop posturing. You have no talent for it." She took the tip of one of Twilight’s ears in her mouth and began nibbling it gently.

Twilight fumed, but didn’t resist Trixie’s advances.

"As Trixie mentioned before, it is obvious that you have grown desperate," she breathed into Twilight’s ear. "And since violence has never been your way, Trixie assumes you have come to grovel for your life back. You may begin now if you like, though, Trixie suspects you would prefer to be someplace warm as you shake off the last of your dignity."

Twilight considered this a moment. Hearing Trixie’s assumptions about her motivation only made Twilight realize how vague that motivation was. Before coming here, she had formed a solid plan for confronting Trixie. But now that Trixie was here, clinging to her, breathing on her, taunting and teasing and driving the purple unicorn mad as only she could—now that the moment had arrived, Twilight realized how perfectly unprepared she was. Perhaps Trixie was right. Perhaps she had grown desperate.

"Okay," Twilight agreed, nestling into Trixie’s embrace. "Someplace warm…where we can be alone."

Trixie giggled inwardly as she closed her mouth around Twilight’s neck, thoroughly enjoying the note of uncertainty ringing true in her rival’s voice. It was more rewarding than a thousand cheers—a million cheers! Every voice in Equestria could rise in praise of Trixie’s greatness, and it still wouldn't measure up to the pitiful quaver living in Twilight’s voice. After all, why revel in the love of insects when she could drink deep the misery of the only other pony in the world?

Trixie rose up on her hind legs, and wasn't at all surprised when Twilight rose with her. The performer's kiss traveled from Twilight's neck up to her lips, and Trixie was even less surprised that Twilight was the first to open her mouth. She mashed her tongue against Trixie's still closed lips, desperate for entry. Trixie resisted. She wanted to Twilight to struggle for it.

And as she forced Trixie's mouth open and slipped her tongue between her rival's teeth, Twilight hated that the kiss didn’t feel wrong, that it didn’t taste rotten. She hated how eagerly she tilted her own head in attempt to deepen it. The right thing to do at his point was to shove Trixie away, and Twilight might have done just that, except now the performer’s perfumed scent was wafting into her nose. It was a rich vanilla aroma that smelled of the candles the two of them used to burn during study sessions that dared not halt before sunrise. She moved the kiss from Trixie’s lips down to the base her neck, throwing the performer into a fit of breathless moans—and the sound transported Twilight back to their first night together. Back to the timid kisses and awkward touches they shared beneath a star-swirled bed sheet—that childish blanket that concealed a dance meant for adults, for wiser lovers than Twilight Sparkle and her Trixie. She had been so naïve to open her heart to a pony like Trixie. Their love had been a lopsided affair then, just as it was now. But Twilight didn’t care. She was past caring and fixed on wanting. She had been alone for too long and wanted something warm to hold onto, something to remind her of the life she had lost.

In a moment of weakness, Twilight dragged her hated rival to the floor and began making love to her on the grandest stage in Canterlot.

Trixie felt elated as she shuddered and moaned beneath her rival. She felt free. She felt like the old Trixie again, the pony who had lived in bliss before coming across that sad excuse of a town called Ponyville. Before she was publicly humiliated by the so-called Element of Magic. For the first time in a long time the world made sense. It made sense because Trixie had forced it to. She had twisted her reality until it snapped under the weight of her cunning, and then she had reshaped that reality into something she could stand to look at. She was bigger than it was. She was a giant, as massive and inexorable as the Ursa Major she claimed to have thwarted all those years ago. Trixie had become an unstoppable force—and now all that remained was the brushing aside of this unmovable object. This Twilight Sparkle.

Trixie shuddered and panted under Twilight’s hungry touches, their bodies as close as bodies could be, rubbing like sticks to start a fire.

Their private war of wills had begun anew. The first battle belonged to Trixie. Next Chapter: Chapter 3 Estimated time remaining: 28 Minutes