Pitch black? Trixie could cope with this using her glowing magic. Cold? Her hat and cape provided moderate protection from the harsh breeze.

Rain?

Trixie wasn’t pleased at the performance that the sky decided to enact upon her. Or, in this case, the pegasi’s planning. Why, of all days, must they pick now to make the clouds attack her with their rampant tears? It didn’t take more than half a minute to be completely soaked, and after that the extra rain was just adding insult to injury. The Great and Powerful was now The Damp and Miserable.

The darkness around her scared her ever so, though she refused to admit this to herself as she pushed forward. The glow of her horn made a somewhat pretty display of the rain immediately before her, though with all the misery of the past few weeks she didn’t pay any attention to this display. She was more focused on finding out exactly where she was, which was incredibly hard when in what felt like a black forest void.

“Let us see… she’s been on foot for nearly a half an hour now, the rain is assaulting Trixie, and she is finding it difficult to find anywhere to stay. What is this, an empty field? Trixie could have sworn that she was in a forest no less than five minutes ago. What Trixie would give for a map, neigh, a bed.”

At this, Trixie fell. The ground, in its insolence, decided to reach up at her and snatch her from her balance, sending her tumbling into the grass and mud. Her immediate reaction was to spit everything out, as would be anypony’s reaction. Her next was to do something unbefitting of her greatness; cry.

She couldn’t deny misery for any longer, but her crying wasn’t loud and noticeable. Her pride still prevented her from making a spectacle of her somewhat-self-inflicted suffering, despite having no audience present to watch. Regardless, she did weep for a long time before she fell into a restless, uncomfortable sleep out in the middle of the storm.

“Petunia, get back here! You’ve got chores to do, sis!”

A young filly bolted out into the flower filled fields of Mayflower Meadows, laughing loudly as she taunted her brother, chasing slowly behind her.

“Catch me if ya can, ya slowpoke!” She called, looking over her shoulder. Sadly this was her first mistake as she found herself running into something wet before falling over the very same something. Her fall was luckily broken by the soft grass, but that didn’t help ease her annoyance as her brother Oleander would now catch up to her and force her into her chores. She hated counting the seed.

“Finally caught up to… woah…”

This was not the reaction that Petunia expected. Woah? Woah what? She didn’t understand his sudden surprise. That is, she didn’t understand until all of three seconds later when her eyes fell upon the very same thing that Oleander had discovered; an unconscious unicorn with what looked like a wizard’s hat and cape, lying in the field and shivering badly.

“Oleander, what’re you doin’? Don’t just stand there; get ma and pa!”

“Oh… uh… right!”

Oleander spun on his feet, asking no questions as he bolted off to get their parents. Neither of them could have moved her by themselves, both being too young and too small. Petunia, meanwhile, sat beside the unicorn, placing a hoof on her forehead immediately below the horn.

“That’s a mighty bad fever she’s got. She probably got caught in that storm last night.” Petunia said to herself, looking with worry at the unicorn. This wasn’t her preferred way of getting out of her chores.

The spectacles were brilliant! The show was spectacular! And most important of all, Trixie was in the spotlight, soaking in all the applause and cheers as to her glorious performance. After underestimating her for so long, Trixie found a stage that truly realized her greatness.

“She’s wakin’ up, pa!”

Trixie turned, trying to find the source of the words. Who dared to interrupt her performance with meaningless jabber? Her eyes fell upon a black form, what appeared to be a colt with pure white eyes, head pointed straight at her.

“I’m coming!”

The show mare spun on her heels to glare at another black form, staring still with its blank eyes. Just as she was about to speak, the ground under her fell apart, widening in a huge gap of oddly shaped tiles breaking away as if frightened by what was to come. There was nothing but her screaming as she fell and fell and…

“Miss, are you alright? We were worried sick about’cha, what with you having been out cold in our flower fields all night.”

Trixie finally managed to bring the world into focus, taking in what was around her. A small, comfortable farm house, sheets covering her, and standing above her were a well-built colt, a worried-looking mare, and two sniffling fillies who began to smile ever so slightly as her eyes opened.

“Where… where is… is… Trixie?”

The family looked at each other, immediately cast into worry again. Had they missed somepony? She was alone when they found her; who was this Trixie?

“Um… miss? You were alone; there wasn’t any ‘Trixie’ with you when we found you.”

“I’m… T..Trixie.” For the first time in a while Trixie dropped her third-person speech, though it wouldn’t last long, “Where…?”

The fillies looked at each other, a bit confused but relieved. The colt sighed openly, happy to be rid of the scare.

“You’re at our farmhouse. We’re the Mayflowers, and this is Mayflower Meadows. I’m Buckwheat Mayflower, and these two fillies over here, Petunia and Oleander, found you this morning out in our fields. I had to carry you in; you were out cold. Did you get caught in that storm last night?”

“Trixie was in the s-storm... It was…” Before Trixie could complete her sentence, she felt a sudden uncontrollable shivering throughout her body, followed by painful coughing. She couldn’t remember anything from last night other than the black, cold, and rain; her thoughts were blank.

“Well, don’t you have anywhere to live? Why were you out wandering?” asked Petunia.

“Trixie has no home anymore, all thanks to that Ponyville show…”

“Ponyville show? I think I heard something about a performance in Ponyville about a month back…” started Buckwheat

“F-f-forget Trixie said… anything…” the unicorn said, shivering some more. This was not a pleasant time for her.

“That’s unimportant anyway. What’s important now is getting you on your feet again. You can stay until you get better, alright Trixie?”

Trixie attempted to open her mouth to offer a response, but was immediately interrupted by more coughing. She decided to offer a nod instead. At this point, Buckwheat stood aside to let the mare walk over, bringing another blanket over. She placed the blanket on top of the sheet forehead, adjusting it just so to be in the perfect spot, and smiled.

“I’m Iris Mayflower. I hope you feel better soon.” said the mare before bowing her head and moving away.

The two fillies stood by her bedside, watching her intently. Sadly, this only lasted so long.

“Oleander, Petunia! You get back to your chores; she needs to rest.”

Oleander, the more cooperative of the two, immediately walked off to work on chores. Petunia stood a second longer but, fearing the punishment, eventually offered a “Hope you feel better” to the ill unicorn and wandered off to count the seeds.

The door closed ever so gently, making no noise. Trixie shivered off to sleep, coiling up under the sheets to try and feel warmer.

About four days had passed since Trixie arrived on the Mayflower farm and, after very limited signs of recovery, the Mayflowers finally called for a doctor to come inspect her. Doctor Fever was a well respected doctor who was still willing to make house calls in this day and age, which was lucky for them since Trixie couldn’t remove herself from the bed just yet.

It didn’t take long for the doctor to realize what Trixie was suffering from. The family wasn’t surprised to hear “hypothermia” come out of his lips, but he made mention that she had definitely recovered from the worst of the symptoms and, at this point, she was mainly suffering from a bad flu which might take another day or two to recover.

Trixie was awake throughout the doctor visit, doing her best to take in the entirety of the situation. She was relieved, but didn’t enjoy having to force herself to sleep all day. The young fillies had done their best in trying to help keep her entertained, putting on small shows for her. She didn’t object, mostly because her throat hurt, and watched through their amateur plays. Despite her common self-absorbed attitude, Trixie couldn’t help but find the frolicking acts of the two young ones cute.

At other times, Trixie would engage in mostly one-sided conversations with Iris, learning of the farm and the family and the hard times they had to go through in the past. Trixie didn’t speak much, no matter how much she wanted to, but for once enjoyed hearing the stories of somepony else. The farm had been established not too long ago, but already the family was doing well with their flower business, selling all sorts of naturally-picked flowers from their fields. She spoke of it like it was her dream job, and Trixie could see the love in her eyes at her own stories. She reminded Trixie of herself, but much less boastful and more content. That and she didn’t speak in the third person.

Buckwheat didn’t spend too much time with her, mostly just exchanging brief “hellos” and helping to change her sheets and blankets on occasion. He was often too occupied with the work in the fields.

The family around Trixie seemed content in the simplicity of their lives, which she knew she would never be happy with. Regardless, they were ever so willing to help her, feed her, and keep her well when they could have simply left her out there. She counted her blessings which, up until the Mayflowers came by and helped her back to health, were few and far between.

The day after the doctor came, Trixie felt much better, finally able to speak for short periods without killing her throat and managing to make her way back onto her feet. She didn’t walk around all too much, however, as she was still off-balance and weak. The fillies were excited at her healing and, against their parents orders, pulled her outside to look at the fields. They were proud of their parents’ beautiful work.

“Trixie! Trixie! Come and look at the sunflowers! They’re in full bloom right now and they’re so beautiful and big!” Petunia called, running off and spinning in circles as she waited for Trixie to follow. The unicorn was in no rush, not feeling up to running anywhere.

“Trixie will get there when she does.” she stated simply, her voice not all too happy with them pushing her so hard. The normal sting in her voice wasn’t present, but she did make them well aware of her greatness with her volume. That being said, the effect of her speech died a little when she started coughing afterwards.

“Aww, can’t ya move any faster? We have so much to show ya!” Petunia grumbled.

“Yea! We needa show you the lilies, and the daffodils, and…”

“Trixie said she will get there when she does. Don’t rush her!” Trixie stated, cutting young Oleander off mid tangent.

“Hopefully you aren’t such a sour puss when yer all better…” Petunia said under her breath, quiet enough that Trixie couldn’t hear.

It took a good five minutes for the trio to arrive, but finally they found themselves standing before the grand and majestic sunflower stalks that Petunia had described earlier.

“They’re nice, but Trixie has seen better.” Trixie boasted.

“Aww, you must be fibbin’! These’re the biggest sunflowers this side of Manehatten!”

Trixie shivered a bit at the mention of the city, but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t fond of bringing up the subject.

“You do like ‘em, don’t ya Trixie?” Oleander asked, looking up at her with a disheartened frown. Trixie was about to continue her boast, but after the days she had spent with the fillies performing for her she didn’t want to dash all of their hopes, just some of them.

“Of… of course Trixie like them. Trixie just said she’s seen grander, but these are beautiful as well.” she replied, reassuming her proper stance.

“Well where’ve you seen better, huh Trixie? I ain’t ever seen any sunflowers prettier’n ours!” Petunia stated, a huge grin on her face,

“It was a long time back, in Trixie’s old hometown in the Mareson Village. One of our neighbors had this special trick up his sleeve to grow them nearly twice as big as the ones you have here.”

“Wow! Twice as big? Wouldn’t they fall over?” Petunia asked, amazed by this.

“Yes, but he was quite the colt. He had Trixie help him put up large poles by each sunflower and tied them to the poles with some string. Helped keep them upright for long enough to sell off to the market.” Trixie said, pride in her voice upon mentioning her hand in the treatment of the sunflowers.

“What was his trick, Trixie?”

“Trixie doesn’t recall, actually. It was so long ago.”

“Aww, now we’ll never get ours that big…” complained the two fillies.

Most ponies would try and comfort the two at this point, but Trixie wasn’t like most ponies.

“Of course you won’t. It only happened because The Great and Powerful Trixie was there to help.”

“You must be great at farming, Trixie!” Oleander said, smiling widely.

“But why isn’t your cutie mark a flower or something?” Petunia questioned in response.

“Trixie is not a farmer; she is a performer. The Great and Powerful Trixie is famous around Equestria for her spectacular shows and amazing spectacles that she brings for all pony eyes to see.”

The two ponies watched as Trixie used her weakened magic to create a few small fireworks around her person.

“Well you obviously ain’t going to put anyone in awe ‘til you’re all better.” Oleander stated bluntly, Petunia chuckling a bit.

“Yea. Our performances for ya were much better’n that.”

“Is that so? Trixie believes that when she is back on her feet, she could teach you a thing or two about showmanship. From her bedside, Trixie could tell you two were amateur at the arts.” Trixie boasted, smirking to herself before losing the mood of the speech with another coughing fit.

“I’m sure they’d love to learn a bit, Trixie, but right now we should get you back to the house. All the pollen is not going to help you with getting over your illness.”

Trixie and the fillies turned to notice Buckwheat standing before them, smiling.

“And these two have some more chores to do before the day ends.”

“Aww, but pa…” whined the two in unison.

“No buts! Back to work you two!”

The fillies dropped their heads, the excitement fading as they dragged their feet to doing their chores. When they were out of range, Buckwheat turned to Trixie with a grin.

“You’re quite the braggart, ain’t ya? So you really are that same showpony who boasted herself right into that whole Ursa Minor mess back in Ponyville,”

Trixie jumped at this, the subject she had been dreading finally rearing its head. What was he going to do? Kick her out? Laugh at her?

“You know, you really need to learn a thing or two yourself about manners before you go back into show business. From what I heard, your bragging nearly caused a big ‘ol mess of Ponyville when those two young’ns went and dragged the Ursa back with ‘em.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn’t need your advice.” Trixie stated with a huff, turning her head.

“But she does still need a bed and, if I’ve been hearing right, a home in general. You lost yer cart back in Ponyville; the reason we found you lying in our field was because you had nowhere to stay in that big ‘ol storm. Are you fond of the idea of something like that happening again?”

“Trixie is not fond of the idea, no.” muttered the unicorn.

“Then you won’t object to staying with us a bit longer. Our bed is open, like I’ve said, but if you wanna stick around then you’ll have to follow a few rules. When you can find a gig for yourself and get enough for a new cart or house or what have you, then you can head out.” Buckwheat explained.

Trixie kept silent at this, not liking the power situation. She didn’t enjoy being talked to like this, but she needed the bed.

“What are your conditions?”

“First off you’ll have to help out on the farm. Secondly, you’ll need to can the third person speakin’; it’s been annoying for a while, and I’m not fond of dealing with it much longer. Third, we expect you to be respectful of all of us, and to be nice to the kids. If you get out of place, you’ll have no place.”

Three simple requests, all of which made Trixie wretch on the inside. Manual labor? Stop referring to herself as she deserved to be? RESPECT? This man obviously didn’t know who he was talking to… or didn’t care. Trixie looked away, contemplating his conditions inside of her head. Could she do it? She needed somewhere to stay, and this was her only opening as far as she could see. With a heavy sigh, the unicorn nodded her head.

“Good. Now let’s get you back to bed, why don’t we?”