Chapter Text
Somewhere in Equestria, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentlemare lived not long ago. There is a certain amount of disagreement among authors who write of her, but reliable conjecture seems to indicate that her name was Trixie. This aforementioned gentlemare spent her times of leisure reading books of chivalry with such devotion and enthusiasm that she forgot herself. She spent her nights reading from dusk till dawn and her days reading from sunrise to sunset, and so, with too little sleep and too much reading, her brains dried up, causing her to lose her mind.
When her mind was completely gone, she had the strangest thought any lunatic in the world ever had, which was that it seemed reasonable, even necessary, for her to travel the world as a knight errant, for the sake of her honor and as a service to the nation, and to seek adventures and to engage in all the things that knights errant engaged in, placing themselves in danger and righting wrongs and winning eternal renown and everlasting fame.
It was not seemly that such a famous knight as her should have an ordinary name, so she resolved to rename herself to something more worthy, and she spent eight days thinking of nothing but names that were noble and sonorous. She had nearly decided to call herself “The Great and Powerful Doña Trixote” when she remembered that, in all the books of chivalry she had ever read, there was not a single knight styled “Doña.” Therefore it seemed more fitting, both because of what she had read in books of chivalry and because of the discomfort she felt when she imagined being addressed as “Doña,” for her to adopt the name “Don Trixote.” And, wanting to bring fame to the land to which she was devoted, she appended the name of her birthplace, so that from then on, she was known as The Great and Powerful Don Trixote of Equestria.
In the books of chivalry which Don Trixote had read, there was never any occasion when a knight did menial work. It therefore appeared to Don Trixote that her first order of business was finding an appropriate squire. Her squire needed not only to do menial work, but to do it for the glory and honor of being squire to such a famous and valiant knight as Don Trixote, since nowhere in her books of chivalry had Don Trixote ever read of a squire who was paid a living wage for their troubles. Knight errantry is not exactly known for being progressive.
Don Trixote therefore persuaded a pegasus she knew, a good mare, if any so foolish as her can be said to be good. When Don Trixote first approached Rainbow Dash, the latter immediately said, “Trixie, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but that’s nuts.” Then Don Trixote began to fill Rainbow Dash’s head with stories of knights becoming rulers of vast dominions and richly rewarding their squires with titles and land, and Rainbow Dash said, “Uh huh. I gotta go train.” But when Don Trixote said that a squire with such wealth would have an unending supply of cider, Rainbow Dash, who was as I said foolish, replied, “Why didn’t you say so before? Let’s go!”
Rainbow Dash spent nearly a whole quarter of an hour fantasizing about cider. Cider every day. Cider all the time. Cider before training, cider after training. Cider for breakfast, cider for lunch, cider for dinner, cider for dessert. Cider ice cream. Cider soup. Vegetables poached in cider. Stir-fry with cider sauce. Washing dishes in cider. Brushing teeth with cider. Showering in cider. Long, relaxing cider bubble baths. And before her fantasies were complete, Rainbow Dash had addled her head almost as much as Don Trixote had.
By this point, Rainbow Dash was so eager to get started that she would gladly have pulled Don Trixote’s wagon. But, Don Trixote explained, that was unnecessary. “It is easy to sleep in a wagon, almost as easy as it is to sleep in a house. But there is no fame or glory to be won in what is easy! So a knight errant sleeps in the open, exposed to the stars. When the night is cold, she douses her fire so that she may be colder, and when it is hot, she builds a bonfire. And if she is offered lodging, she refuses.”
“Um, okay. I’m gonna take a sleeping bag, and you do you, I guess? Just don’t die of exposure before I get my cider.”
The last thing Don Trixote needed before she could be a true knight errant was a lady-love. For when good fortune sent her a wicked foe to conquer, and when she had defeated that foe in honorable combat, she could then command, “On your honor, go and present yourself to Don Trixote’s lady-love. Tell her of her champion’s exploits and of your defeat, so that she may know the spectacular deeds being done in her name. Then, she shall dispose of you as she pleases. Whatever she says, you must do, on your honor as a knight.” As it happened, in the town where Don Trixote lived, there was a good-looking mare named Starlight Glimmer. Don Trixote resolved that only Starlight Glimmer was fit to be the lady-love of a true knight errant. And, searching for a harmonious appellation fit for a lady of such splendid quality, Don Trixote decided to rename Starlight Glimmer to “Lady Sweet Cheeks of Ponyville.”
“Starlight already has a perfectly good name,” objected Rainbow Dash.
“Silence! The Great and Powerful Don Trixote of Equestria knows her lady-love better than you do! If you had but once looked upon her peerless beauty, you too would know the countless charms of fair Sweet Cheeks!”
“I see her all the time! And, sure, she looks pretty good. But if I were making a list of the top ten hottest mares in Equestria, she wouldn’t make it.”
“O, Sweet Cheeks! What words can express such beauty beyond all beauties? Incomparable flower, if Don Trixote had a thousand years to sing of your charms, she would not have given you half the praises you deserve! You are the day to her night and the balsamic vinaigrette to her salad! You, whose ears are never waxy and whose teeth gleam whiter than a toothpaste advertisement! You, who are the incarnation of pulchritude—”
“What the hay does that mean?”
“—whose being is comeliness distilled twice, no, thrice! Distilled to even greater purity than that bottle of vodka we got drunk on last week! You, whom all mares envy because of your undefiled, virtuous maidenhood—”
“She’s definitely not that! The whole town could hear the racket you two were making in your wagon the other night!”
“Silence! The Great and Powerful Don Trixote of Equestria has not yet finished her discourse on the qualities of Lady Sweet Cheeks! As we were saying. If only she were here, we would admire once again the sweet cheeks of Sweet Cheeks! For her cheeks are as round as pearls and as full as melons, and when she blushes they are like roses. Ah, would that we could touch them again, that we could run our hoof over them and caress their luscious smoothness! Oh, Sweet Cheeks! What rapturous pleasure we would have if only we could gently fondle your sweet cheeks, making amorous little circles with our hooves the way you like! Our eyes would overflow with tears of joy, and we would make deep and endless sighs of pleasure that would stir the leaves of the mountain trees. And, once our attentions had sufficiently pleased you, O most demure of mares, then we pray, with all due reverence, that you would, after your modest manner, lift your tail and allow us to gaze full and unobstructed upon the sweet cheeks of Lady Sweet Cheeks!”