//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5, in which a promise is made. 
// Story: Dancing with Herself 
// by Punished Bean 
//------------------------------//

Starlight cleared her throat when she realized she hadn't spoken in a while.
“There’s another Luna,” she said, indicating with her chin.
“Where? Oh, I see her! Didn’t we see that one already?”
“Nah, this one has blue eyes,” Starlight lied.
“Well spotted, Starlight!” Trixie cheered and squinted into the crowd.
Starlight blushed. Was she really this gullible?
“Thanks, Trixie. I mean…” she chuckled. “Sorry, I’m messing the game up.”
Trixie was smiling benevolently.
“Nonsense,” she said. “You are just being yourself.”
Just being myself, Starlight thought. Why not?
They chatted for a while. Her younger self tried to figure out who she was and Starlight took a strange delight in leading her on. Ultimately, the fake Trixie’s rage boiled over. It was strange to watch herself get angry, get calm, and channel that anger into productivity. It brought a smile to her face.
“Shall we dance?” her other self asked.
She giggled.
“I’m game, Trixie.”
They made it to the dancing floor. Her counterpart seemed apprehensive and Starlight couldn’t help but prod her a little.
“What’s wrong? You’re not good at dancing, Trix?” Starlight asked mockingly.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie…” her younger self gulped, “is good at everything! But why not allow Starlight to lead? After all, Starlight seems to enjoy taking charge in so many things!”
That she did. Usually.
“Not dancing,” she snickered. “But I’ll do my best. Just don’t laugh. Or you’ll regret it later!”
Starlight was suddenly very glad her older self let her lead last time – she had some practice now, even if she only danced three times this evening. So far, at least.
“Is that a promise?” Trixie wriggled her eyebrow.
It’s like I’m seducing myself! Starlight thought and blushed. No. Let’s live this fantasy a bit longer. Let it really be Trixie for just one dance.
She bit her lip, grabbed her counterpart, and set out dancing. She counted her steps in the beginning, but it quickly became unnecessary. Instead, she just enjoyed the thing she’d wanted to do for a long time – dance with Trixie.
She promised herself she would dance with the real one as soon as she could.
Unless she was sent to Tartarus.
She swallowed, stumbled, and kicked her partner.
“Sorry, I’m pretty rusty when it comes to dancing.”
“You’re not so bad,” Trixie’s voice muttered into her ear. “Better than me, at least.”
“I had some… recent practice,” Starlight chuckled.
And I’ll still have a few dances scheduled for tonight.
She paused.
“Wait… do you really mean it?” she asked.
“Mean what?”
“Me not being so bad,” Starlight clarified. An idea rose in her mind and set a little flicker of expectancy in her chest.
“Yes,” her younger self replied, and Starlight knew she meant it. “Rusty – but you lead well.”
“Do you think,” Starlight couldn’t help it. “Do you think, hypothetically, that the pony I’m in love with wouldn’t hate me for dancing with her?”
It was out before she could stop it. She was thinking of Trixie now – the real Trixie – and felt her cheeks flush crimson again. She was somewhere in that crowd, after all.
“Hate you?” Her young self scoffed. “Of course not!” She went on a diatribe about the cultural significance of dancing while Starlight thought.
She knew Trixie was shapeshifted into that cellist pony. The gray one with black hair. She shouldn’t be hard to find. Unless more than one pony was masquerading as her, of course. At the same time, Starlight doubted she couldn’t tell Trixie apart from any other ones.
The thought of dancing with Trixie made her heart soar and flutter and sent goosebumps up her spine.
They talked more, about relationships and other things, until the dance ended.
“Trixie thanks you for the dance,” her counterpart bowed.
“Thanks, uh, Trixie…” She mimicked her.
She could go right now. Find Trixie and dance. But she didn’t feel ready. Not yet.
“May I have this dance as well?” she asked.
Her younger self giggled and replied: “Why, of course!”


The next dance was called Manehattan. She was bolder this time, and her partner seemed to like it. Why, she remembered liking it herself. They danced and talked.
“I’ve got to ask…” her younger self asked suddenly. “Who is the pony you love?”
“Who she is?” Starlight asked confusedly. Wasn’t it obvious? Wait, she was mixing them up.
“Who is she, to you,” the other pony clarified.
She thought about it as she looked at the image of Trixie. As charming as ever, but it wasn’t her. No, it wasn’t her who made her heart flutter. It was the pony who now looked like the ashen musician.
“She is precious to me,” she said quietly. For some reason, getting even those words out felt like climbing a mountain. It was as though the wind could blow her love apart if she spoke of it too eagerly.
“Even though it’s strange to admit it,” she added when she realized she’d  fallen silent again. “It’s… different from my other friends, even though it’s hard to explain why.”
Her other self looked at her as they pulled apart. For a moment, “Trixie’s” smile looked so much like the real thing.
“But each time she smiles,” Starlight explained, “each time we talk or just… stay together for a moment and let the world flow by… I feel it, in my heart.”
She swallowed. The feelings welled inside her and threatened to burst right out.
“It’s like pain,” her voice cracked and her counterpart blinked. “But…” Starlight added, “...with a minus sign. It is so intense that I feel it must hurt – but it doesn’t.”
She was blabbering now, she knew. Just saying things as they came to her. But it felt too good to give her feelings a voice for once.
And it seemed the wind would not blow her love apart after all.
“I see,” Trixie’s voice replied softly. “Thank you. For the information, I mean.”
She paused.
“I feel the same way for another,” she admitted. She fell silent for a moment. Starlight gave her all the time she knew she needed.
“I just never realized what it was,” her younger self finished. Her face twitched and her legs became unsteady.
Love, Starlight thought. This was when I figured it out.
“Let’s sit down,” Starlight said.
She led her younger self to a seat. A few moments later, she brought her their favorite cocktail.
Starlight held her young self’s hoof and told her it would be alright. She let her pile her fears onto her and reassured her. When she heard those words, mere hours ago, they resonated with her somewhat. But now that she said them herself, she truly believed them.
“And you?” her younger self asked. “Did you tell the pony you love how you feel?”
Starlight swallowed. “I didn’t. No. Not yet.”
“Ah, so that’s it?” the other pony asked. “Is the pain just theoretical to you?”
Always deflecting… Starlight shook her head. Thorax was right. This was an excellent opportunity for self-reflection. Even if time travel might not have been the way he envisioned it.
She spoke quietly.
“I’ve felt enough pain. As much as you have, I assure you. It is simply not the right time to tell her.”
“What, do you not know who she’s masquerading as?” The young one’s sarcasm was getting annoying.
She probably still thinks I’m in love with her! she realized.
“I think I have a solid idea,” the older Starlight winked. A jab for a jab.
She laughed.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she suppressed more laughter. “I know what you’re thinking. But it doesn’t matter. You made me realize something.”
She sipped her piña colada. Liquid courage.
“Look,” Starlight said. “The thing is – this feeling I have? The love I told you about? The kind of love you are struggling with?”
She held a hoof to her chest. She didn’t remember exactly what she said last time. So she listened to her heart – and talked.
“That love gives me one thing,” she said. “A feeling of absolute certainty.”
She paused.
“But it’s not like I know she feels the same way about me.”
She took a deep breath. Her chest was on fire and the words flew out of her of their own volition.
“I know I have to do it because it’s like a fire inside me,” she went on. “If I don’t do it, I will burn, heart and soul, until there’s nothing in me but an endless pit of regret. I was there before, and it took me years to crawl out.”
She put a hoof down. Her counterpart didn’t say anything.
“I will do it for myself,” Starlight said resolutely. “And I will do it tonight.”
There. She promised herself. Quite literally.
She drank the rest of the cocktail and stood up, then looked down at her bewildered younger self.
“Now, if you excuse me,” she said. “I have a few arrangements to make. Will you give me the last dance before the unmasking?”
“But I –” the other pony began. Starlight cut her off.
“I know. I’m just asking for the dance,” she smiled. “You gave me a lot to think about, and you deserve to see who I really am.”
She didn’t wait for the other pony’s nod. She headed out.
There were two things she needed to do.



A dance with Trixie.
Close the time loop
And maybe not get any prison time.
Three things.