A pause.
Starlight’s horn glowed as she explored her options. Her magic grasped at Twilight’s saddlebags, but couldn’t find purchase. Her attention flicked over the different sorts of spells she knew, the things she could use to lay the princess low; no answer was apparent. Her teeth grit, anger taking over where denial had left off. Her eyes darted about as she sought options; nothing new presented itself. All the while Twilight stood there watching her. Resolute. Imperious. Implacable.
Permanent.
“…No.”
“No?”
A sigh. “No. Fine. You win.”
Twilight nodded, the start of a smile forming. If asked, she would have told you it was a hopeful smile. Starlight would have called it smug. Spike’s smile was unquestionably so.
“Alright. Good. I’m going to have to take you into custody, you know.”
“I know.”
Another nod, and Twilight began casting the typical sort of binding and restraining spells. Starlight was tempted to resist, but she recognized how pointless it would be; whatever she was going to do next wouldn’t be helped by continuing to loop back here. The princess was saying something, but Starlight wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes were on the rainbow-maned filly accelerating past the pair, bringing with her Starlight’s impending failure.
Whatever Twilight was going on about - something about rights? - was cut off by an explosion of light and sound. It reminded Starlight of the day she lost her village, the sudden arrival of color and cutie marks. She frowned deeply as she watched the face of the young filly, so excited to get a brand that would divide her from other ponies. Her teeth grit as she watched the rainboom drift off into the distance, bringing more marks and assuring the end of her commune back in the future. Present. Whatever.
The three of them waited until the color had faded out of sight. An uneasy quiet fell, each of them left to their own thoughts until Twilight got back to her spellwork and her rights-reading. Spike watched Starlight carefully, but she was resigned to her fate. One last time, the portal through time opened, and the three of them were returned to their restored present.
Starlight briefly looked up at the sound of creaking hinges, before letting her chin sink back onto her cot. The dreary stone around her was cast in its true grey for the moments the door to the brighter castle beyond was open, before fading back into the orange-brown of torchlight after. She watched as her visitor – her purple, tall-ish, alicorn visitor – approached the bars of her cell and sat down. A little dragon stood beside her, quill in claw.
“So, do you want to talk yet?”
A snort of derision answered the question. Princess of Friendship indeed; how such an awkward pony won such a title was beyond Starlight. No, she didn’t want to talk, nor did she the last dozen times. She wasn’t going to dignify that with a response.
“It’s for your own sake, you know. Having your statement on-record before the trial can only help your case.
Silence. Starlight made to glower at her, but it was a weak effort. She was content to simply lie flat on the cot and let Twilight burn herself out.
“You know, the princesses have a lot of influence with the courts. This could be your chance to get one on your side.”
“Spike, that’s not helping.”
Starlight silently agreed.
“Starlight...I know you blame me for a lot of things, but I really am here to help. I want to hear your story.
Starlight bristled. Of course Twilight was to blame, but this? This was rubbing salt in the wound.
“Why?” Twilight perked up as Starlight spoke. “Why do you care?”
“Because you have to have had a reason for it all. The village, the cutie-marks, the revenge - nopony would do all that without one.”
Starlight’s eyes narrowed as she lifted herself to a seated position, fixing Twilight firmly in her glare. “You want to know? You really want to know? Why? It’s not going to change anything.”
“It could change what I think of you.”
Starlight grit and bared her teeth, practically shouting. “What do I care what you think of me? You ruined everything, took everything I had, everything I made! I was trying to do something for the good of all ponies, but you had to come and mess it up! I’m your enemy! I know what you think of me!”
“You don’t have to be.”
Starlight paused, taken aback. “What?”
“Our enemy. You don’t have to be.”
Starlight laughed, though there was no humor in it. “After everything you did? After I tried to get revenge? What other option is there?”
“You could be our friend.”
Starlight blinked. Then blinked again, caught between words. Her mouth hung open for another moment before she sank back onto her cot with a groan. “Of course. ‘Princess of Friendship’. Of course you’d think so.”
“We redeemed Discord.”
Starlight didn’t have a good reply, so she simply snorted. “Why do you care, anyway?”
Twilight smiled, and for once it didn’t seem that smug to Starlight. Almost soft, even...regretful? Why? “Because I think you can be a good pony. Even if you were misguided, when we first met you seemed to think what you were doing was right.”
“Yeah, just because you were a hypocrite doesn’t mean you didn’t have good intentions.”
“A little too on-the-nose, Spike.”
Starlight turned her glower on the dragon, looking more tired than angry now that her fury left her. Spike smiled sheepishly, scooting back behind Twilight. Twilight soon returned her attention to their prisoner.
“Anyway, I think there’s good in you. And….and I know what it’s like to be alone.”
Starlight looked at her, really looked. She wasn’t sure what to say to that. With a huff she gathered her hooves under her, lifting her head.
“...You’re not going to drop this, are you? Even if you don’t get your statement for the trial?”
“Nope.”
“It’s a waste of time, you know.”
A hopeful little smile curled the edges of Twilight’s face. “Starlight, I told you before; we can do this forever.”
Starlight laughed again while shaking her head, though this time it sounded a little more genuine. She was silent for several moments after, lost in her thoughts. Eventually, her eyes found Twilight’s again.
“You really want to know?”
A nod, and that hopeful little smile grew.
“Alright. It all started with a friend I had when I was a foal. His name was Sunburst…”