Letters From a Little Princess Monster

Letters From a Little Princess Monster
                               Trains, Strains and Explosive Pops

…i’m still getting used to stuff. Ponies have stuff that they don’t want that they trade for things
that they use to trade for stuff they do want, which seems like a lot of work for just stuff. except
books. they’re something different than stuff. mom had a lot of stuff that she brought from
Home, but it was all useful stuff (and books), not the weird stuff like garden centaurs and
statues all around town. and dresses. sweetie says dresses are very important to the way
other ponies see us, and i understand that a little. if i don’t wear my cloak, everypony looks at
me and makes me scared, so i don’t take it off in town anymore. Trixie has a lot of crap, like
she calls it, that she says came from where you live now…

                                                ***

Trixie paused in her contemplation of the vast pile of boxes on the train loading dock to make a
grab for the stationmaster before he could escape. “Hey, buster! This crap can’t be all mine,
is it?”

“I’m afraid it is, Madame Trixie.” The stationmaster checked his watch and looked back at the
grouchy unicorn and her small assistant, each carrying a cup of steaming coffee in their
magic. “And it needs to be off my loading dock in two hours, or I’m going to have to charge
you for storage.”

“How in Hades am I supposed to drag all this…” Monster watched the stationmaster stride
back into his strange magical office where he controlled the movements of the great machines,
pausing to mark more times on the little slate out front. ‘Freight’ was a fascinating process
where boxes and crates of nearly anything were grouped, labeled, loaded, unloaded, and
moved across all of Equestria, or at least it would be if a few dozen crates of Trixie’s things
were not sitting in the middle of the loading dock, blocking both pickup and delivery from the
growing number of cart haulers stacked up on the street. Her thoughts on the topic were
disturbed by the sight of Trixie, standing directly in front of her and waving a hoof in front of
Monster’s face. “Hello? You in there? I just asked if you could carry all these boxes back to
the library for me.”

“Me?” Monster eyed the pile and calculated the distance to the library, considering the
estimated reduction in speed from the weight of the various boxes and frequent breaks to
regain her strength. “Three days.”

“What? Trixie slugged down the rest of her coffee and chewed for a moment before lowering
her head to look into Monster’s eyes, which was a little difficult considering the little filly had
drooped low enough to brush her nose on the ground. “I saw you and Celestia carrying that
tree, and I thought—”

“Mostly her. I carried a branch.”

“Oh.” Trixie absentmindedly bit a chunk out of her styrofoam cup and waved at the boxes. “So
how much can you lift — oh, never mind. We’ll find out when the teacher shows up tomorrow
to run your evaluation for school.”

“A test?” The last word squeaked into a higher register, unheard by Trixie as she flagged down
a stalled cart and its broad-shouldered driver.

“Hey, Big Mac. I’ve got a favor to ask. You see all those crates over there?” Trixie waved at
the crowded freight dock, then turned to the distant library. “And you see my drafty home way
over there? Do you think you could get the two of them in the same location?”

The stallion shrugged out of his harness and regarded the two objectives, shifting the stem of
wheat from one side of his square jaw to the other. “Don’t want ‘ta move no more trees.”

She had actually opened her mouth to snap a vicious response before spotting the glitter of
amusement in those deep green eyes. “Oh, har de har, har. I’m surrounded by hayseeds
and—”

“Test!” shrieked Monster as she dashed by at a full gallop, headed in the direction of downtown
Ponyville. “Study! Books! Flash cards!” Trixie and Big Mac stood side by side, watching the
little purple blur vanish into Quills and Sofas, emerging moments later being pursued by a
cloud of white feathers wrapped in her magic and making a beeline over to the library, ending
with the sound of a slamming door.

“Ponyfeathers,” swore Trixie, looking around for a trash can before tossing her empty cup into
the back end of Big Mac’s apple-filled wagon. “Look, I don’t have any bits right now, but—”

“Go,” said Big Mac with a nudge that nearly knocked Trixie off her hooves. “I’ll bring ‘em over.”

“Really?” Trixie stopped, torn between the handsome stallion and whatever expensive
destruction Menace was probably doing in the library.

“Eeyup. That’s what friends are for.”

                                                ***

The locked library door rattled briefly until there was a faint click and Trixie peeked inside,
tucking the key back into her cloak. “Menace?”

“Can’t talk. Gotta study. Test!” The faint sound of scribbling came from upstairs in the general
vicinity of Trixie’s new bedroom, and did not even pause for a moment as a book unshelved
itself from the ‘Early Magic - Unicorn’ section and began floating up the stairs. Following the
book, Trixie opened the door to her bedroom and regarded the mess with a sour grimace.

The former librarian, Miss Dewey, had left for the retirement stable in Acapulcolt with only one
large bag, deeding any of her personal possessions remaining to the next occupant. The
collection of bric-a-brac and keepsakes strewn about the library was remarkably short of any
photos, but had proven to be a wealth of information about the town, from the huge collection
of little hoof-made Hearth’s Warming presents from the school students, to a set of certificates
from the Equestrian Librarian Association detailing her rise from Librarian (Provisionary
Trainee) to Elder Keeper of Mysteries and Lore (Rural). The bedroom desk, a huge oaken
monstrosity with more hidden drawers than a magician’s cloak, had been rather
enthusiastically cleaned of a half-century of paperwork and records to make room for a dozen
open books and one small alicorn filly centered between them.

“Hey. Menace. It’s just an evaluation. Don’t sweat it so much.” Trixie slipped into her
bedroom with a pause before taking a deep breath and walking right up to the studious little
student. “Hey. You’re not all bent out of shape because of your last test, are you?”

“No.” Monster buried her nose in a book so far that her horn rested on the top binding while
her nose pressed against the bottom. It was far too near for her to actually read anything on
the page, and after a few calming breaths of the book’s papery scent, she finally looked up at
Trixie. “Maybe.”

Nudging the little alicorn to one side, Trixie settled into the soft chair and spread her cape over
the two of them, heading off the beginning of a tremor that had just started shaking Monster’s
little wings. “Look, the evaluator is just going to measure your progress in magic to make sure
the lessons you get aren’t too advanced or too dumb. It’s just like getting your horn measured,
or seeing how tall you are—”

“Or getting weighed?”

Trixie took a deep breath, looking at the bottom drawer of the desk where Blueblood’s bottles
had been stored. “Yes.”

“How did you get ready for your tests?” Monster looked away, closing her books and levitating
them into a neat stack while getting out a quill and a notecard.

“By vanishing the night before and showing up all hung-over in the morning,” said a gravely
voice to one side. Spike sat up in his basket and rubbed his eyes, exchanging glares with
Trixie. “Well, it’s the truth.”

“They were study sessions,” protested Trixie in a voice that was nearly a whine. “We all got
together and got out the books, with some refreshments, of course, and…” The thud of
somepony knocking on the library door provided a welcome distraction, but before Trixie could
even move, Spike zipped past her and down the stairs.

“So you studied with your friends?” asked Monster, her eyes almost black in the dim light of the

shuttered bedroom.

“Well, I don’t know if you could call them…” Trixie rearranged her hat while considering the
variety of scholastic achievements produced by her party associates and coming up with a
very small number approaching zero, if not some negative number. “Well, yes. I suppose you
can have a friend or two over to study with, if that will calm you down. I’ll have Spike run a
note over to Rarity; that at least I know he’ll do for free.”

                                                 ***

It took all morning to get the various crates and boxes brought into the library, eventually
winding up packing the basement nearly full, covering most of the first floor up to several
stacks deep, and putting the rest in the little storage nooks and cubbyholes that the library
seemed to sprout whenever Trixie was not looking. There had to be some sort of spell on the
old oak tree that kept it from filling up all the way, but no matter how Trixie looked, she could
only find the original enchantment that had been cast when the tree was just a branch library
(and she winced at the concept. Sometimes it seemed as if the entire town was just one big
bad oak.) Big Mac and several other husky stallions had been invaluable with the moving,
each of them making a particular point to ask about Prince Blueblood and any relationship he
might share with Ponyville’s newest librarian. One of them had even postulated that Trixie was
only in Ponyville for eleven months in order for the Royal Foal to be born and properly
assigned to a foster family. Trixie dissuaded him of the idea, as well as blacking his eye and
making him walk cross-legged for a few hours afterwards, which seemed to raise her status
with the rest of the stallions.

But stallions were not the only things that bothered Trixie’s mind.

When Sweetie Belle dropped by and asked about Monster, Trixie sent her straight up to the
bedroom so the two of them could study together. It was a little risky, but Trixie had a perfectly
good fire extinguishing spell and a lot of practice, as well as little desire to watch little filly
sparks.

Then a young unicorn named Dinky dropped by and said that Sweetie Belle had told her about
the study session, and that her mother had received an evaluation letter just like Trixie had
received for her young daughter.

She sent the little brat upstairs with the other two little disasters. Kicking the stallion in his
jewels was a good catharsis for her bruised emotions, and a much more socially accepted
activity than yelling at some little filly.

Then two little unicorns from out of town showed up at the same time, each having received
the same letter and making the long trip to Ponyville together for their evaluation
tomorrow. The concept of a sleepover was brought up—to Trixie’s inner dread—before they
happily trotted up the stairs to join the studying throng.

Then Snips and Snails showed up. And Berry Pinch. And Pinkie Pie. And
Firelock. And… Wait a minute.

Trixie escorted the next little unicorn, a filly named Sun Glimmer, up to the bedroom and
peeked inside, expecting to see… Well, she was not quite sure. Pinkie Pie had gone up to the
room, so there should have been a noisy party with cake and punch. Instead, eight little
unicorns were very carefully levitating each piece of bric-a-brac to one side, clearing out a
section of floor where the beginnings of a serious study group was beginning to form, complete
with notecards, sharpened quills, and scattered books with well worn covers bearing titles such
as What To Do When Your Foal Begins To Glow and McPuffins Reader For Magic - Grade
One. Resting on top of the massive oak desk was a neat collection of tidy carrot and celery
sticks with small boxes of apple juice, as well as a generous stack of colorful napkins.

“What do you think?” whispered Pinkie Pie in one ear, making Trixie nearly smack her head
against the doorframe in reaction. “I was going to add sliced cantaloupe, but that could get all
messy.”

“It’s… How… Aren’t…” Trixie stopped for breath and watched the study group move to
accommodate Sun Glimmer, who plunked down a fern right in the middle of the circle and
began to trim off little bits and pieces of dry foliage. She closed the door and tried to focus a
serious look at Pinkie Pie, which was a little like trying to visually mix oil and water. “What
have you done with the little fillies and colts in this town? Are they changelings?”

“‘Scuse me! Pardon me!” A little changeling filly came clattering up the stairs and stopped,
looking at Trixie and Pinkie with bright eyes. “Is this where the study group is meeting?”

Trixie wordlessly pointed at the room, and the little creature vanished inside. From the happy
cries and laughter that spilled out, she was expected and welcomed with just as much joy as
any of the rest of the multicolored multitude.

“Not all of them. Just Peep Sprout there.”