Dancing with Herself

by Punished Bean

Chapter 2, in which the strangeness is doubled by reflection from within.

Starlight needed a minute to herself. Or maybe a year. Yes, a year would do.

She reared back and tried to get her bearings. Somehow, she had stumbled her way closer to the center of the ballroom. The crowd has definitely changed, but she didn’t have time or presence of mind to study it. Instead, her eyes fell upon her deliverance.

A sign stating “Bathrooms” in bold, friendly letters.

The unicorn waded through the crowd. The strand of silver hair bobbed in her vision, mocking her. Despite the crowd being a blur, she quickly came to a shocking realization.

They weren’t rushing for the exits, screaming in terror, or clambering for the seclusion of the bathroom like her. Instead, the mood seemed to settle into the same state it was before – a pleasant mix of idle chatter, soft laughs, and clinking of glasses.

Trixie sure was right about the nobles.

Only this time, there were many more Twilights, Lunas, Pinkies, Celestias, Rutherfords, Rainbow Dashes… and none of them seemed unnerved at all.

The door behind her slammed shut. The bathrooms looked empty enough. Only one stall was closed, but she couldn’t hear anyone inside. There was a strange hint of magic in the room; something old and powerful she knew, but could not really place.

Starlight quickly made her way into another stall, closed the door, sat on the toilet lid, and took a few deep breaths.

What truly confused her was the fact that she felt so strange about the transformation at all.

Wasn’t Trixie one of her best friends? They basically lived with each other and spent plenty of time together. It was natural that Trixie would jump into her mind while she scrambled to think about who to transform into.

And yet it felt strange, as though she was breaking some unspoken taboo. For some reason, it made her heart race and breath quicken.

Starlight took a few more deep breaths, pulling the flusher to hide the sound from any other occupant. As she rose, she heard a stall door creak, followed by a series of unsteady hoofsteps.

Maybe she wasn’t alone in her distress after all.

“Why did I have to turn into the mare I’m in love with?!” somepony lamented.

Her heart skipped a beat. The voice was familiar, despite being strangely high pitched. She had heard it on recordings plenty of times. It just felt wrong when it wasn’t accompanied by the resonance of her own skull.

Starlight opened the stall’s door and peeked outside.

In front of the mirror, staring into the sink, stood on her hind legs – herself.

To her credit, Starlight didn’t scream. She merely gasped loud enough to send her doppelganger jumping up to the ceiling. By the time she came back, the other Starlight was staring right at her.

“Trixie?” she asked confusedly.

That’s right! Starlight reminded herself. In the mirror in front of her, she saw the shocked face of the Great and Powerful unicorn. Right next to a pony who looked like Starlight normally did, who had just said they had turned into the pony they were in love with.

Oh, sweet mercy.

Starlight’s priorities changed very quickly. She was in covert investigation mode now.

“The one and only!” she declared, stepping out of the toilet stall. “The Great and Powerful Trixie!”

She even rolled the R. Maybe a bit too much.

“Am I hamming it up too much?” she asked.

“No… no…” the other Starlight replied. “You’re… uh… right on the money. Just…”

She frowned.

“Trixie doesn’t talk in first person that much,” she explained. “She’d probably say something like…”

The fake Starlight cleared her throat, batted her eyelashes, and rumbled: “Is Trrrrixie hamming it up enough?”

Starlight – the real one – snickered. Her copy did almost the same.

“Your…” Starlight searched for the right word. “Performance… is pretty good, too!”

She walked to the sink and turned the water on.

“I bet it is,” the other pony said. “Yours is slipping a bit, though.”

Starlight splashed her face and looked to the side.

“Tell me, then,” she began, mimicking Trixie’s tone again. “Did the Great and Powerful Trixie hear you say that you…” she lowered her voice into a conspiratorial whisper, “...you turned into the pony you are in love with?”

It was a strange thing to see herself blush.

“I have,” the fake admitted, quickly adding, “but that’s beside the point!”

“Oh, is it?” Starlight was starting to enjoy this. “Don't you think the Great and Powerful Trixie would want to know who is so-o desperately in love with her roommate?”

“Oh puh-lease!” The fake waved her hoof. “You know Trixie has her own room.”

“Ha!” Starlight pointed her hoof. “Somepony close to her, then. But who?”

She was really starting to enjoy being Trixie. There was just something liberating about inhabiting that flamboyant, boisterous persona of hers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” the fake replied sarcastically.

“You really are good at this,” Starlight said with admiration. “That’s exactly what I—”

She stopped herself before finishing the sentence.

“...what Starlight would say, I mean,” she finished.

“Right…” the fake rolled her eyes. “And you’d know because…?”

Starlight panicked for a split second, looking right and left. Once again, her eyes fell upon the mirror.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie,” she explained nonchalantly, “knows many things!”

“Ah, that’s how we’re playing it then?” the fake asked. “Alright.”

“Trixie begs your pardon?”

Her doppelganger stood up properly and faced her.

“How about we honor Thorax’s wish,” she offered, “and play his little game?”

She laughed.

“You want to know who I really am,” she continued, “and I wouldn’t mind company for the evening. If you can actually guess who I am…”

She shrugged.

“Then you’re a better mare than I,” she finished. She reached out with her hoof. “Do we have a deal?”

Starlight looked down for a moment, then up at those twinkling eyes. The other mare thought she had Starlight on the ropes already. The doppelganger didn’t know it just made her conviction greater.

“Trixie accepts your challenge,” she decided and shook the other pony’s hoof. For a moment, it really did feel like shaking hooves with herself. “How do we go about this?” she asked.

“How about we mingle, Trixie?” the other pony smiled. “You ask me questions and I ask you some?”

Starlight nodded vigorously.

---

They were leaning against the bar, watching the crowd.

It was much more interesting now that Starlight wasn’t freaking out.

At a glance, it was the same mix of ponies, griffons, yaks, and so on. But here and there, an alicorn stood out from the crowd.

“There’s another Luna,” the fake observed, poking in the direction with her chin.

“Where? Oh, I see her!” Starlight frowned. It still amazed her how flexible Trixie’s face felt. “Didn’t we see that one already?”

The fake shook her head. “Nah. This one has blue eyes.”

“Well spotted, Starlight Glimmer!” the real Starlight said enthusiastically, squinting into the crowd. The other unicorn blushed and smiled nervously.

“Thanks, Trixie! I mean…” she chuckled and added: “Sorry, I’m messing the game up.”

Starlight rolled her eyes, but the moment her opposite glanced at her, she was already wearing a benevolent smile. “Nonsense,” she said in a tone she hoped was a reassuring one. “You are just… being yourself!”

And being just that, and nopony else, she thought with a hint of anger. How can I figure out who this pony is if they’re so good at being me?!

“Something on your mind, Trixie?” the fake asked.

“Oh, nothing much,” Starlight replied and sighed. “I… I mean, uh… Trixie is just getting a bit bored with playing spot-the-alicorn.”

“Is that it?” her double smirked at her mischievously. “Not frustrated, perhaps?”

“Is it that obvious?” Starlight groaned. “Look, I’m not very good at this…”

The fake nodded sagely. “I guess not,” she said. “Trixie was never good at spotting subtle facial cues. Not that I am.” The chuckle she ended with sounded so much like Starlight’s it made the original wince.

That was it, then. The other mare all but admitted she wasn’t Trixie. She had to be someone else who knew her well enough to mimic her mannerisms. Somecreature from school maybe? Plenty of the pupils were the children of nobility. Or one of her old acquaintances, perhaps?

Maybe… she thought, Twilight?

They sat in silence for a few moments. Starlight peered into the crowd, hoping to find the real Trixie. But of course, the magician was in disguise and probably trying to enjoy the evening.

She listened to the rhythmic sway of the waltz and watched the crowd move. It gave her an idea.

“Plan B,” Starlight decided and stood up.

“Oh?” her copy asked.

“Shall we dance?” Starlight clarified and offered her hoof.

The fake giggled.

“I’m game, Trixie.”

Starlight led her other self away from the stools. In a few moments, the song ended and another one began.

“Waltz.” She racked her brain. “Right…”

The other pony eyed her inquisitively.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You… uh… not good at dancing, Trix?”

“The Great and Powerful… Trixie…” Starlight gulped, “is good at everything! But why not allow Starlight to lead?”

The idea took a bit off of her chest as she continued: “After all, Starlight seems to enjoy taking charge in so many things!”

“Not dancing,” her partner protested. “But I’ll do my best. Just… don’t laugh. Or you’ll regret it later!”

“Is that a promise?” Starlight wiggled an eyebrow. Trixie did that sometimes. And it seemed to have a similar effect on her counterpart as it would on her – a crimson flush rose to her cheeks.

Without another word, the unicorn closed in on her and grasped her by the waist. They stood up, pressed against one another, balancing on two pairs of back hooves. Starlight felt her partner’s hoof move up to her withers and leaned into it carefully. When they were sure they were not going to topple over, they started slowly swaying in the rhythm.

“One two three – one two three –” Starlight heard quietly. In any other situation, she might have let slip a sarcastic comment but she had plenty of trouble keeping her balance.

It wasn’t as if she had no formal training in dance. Sadly, she’d missed out on the basics during her early life. Nevertheless, she’d jumped into lessons some time after Twilight was crowned. Was it two years back? Three? She never was very good at it and was aware of that fact. It was hard to learn something like dancing at her age, let alone find the time to practice.

Or somepony to practice with.

With a blush, she realized another reason she tried to learn. And the reason she never danced after the lessons.

Trixie.

She envied her doppelganger.

What would Starlight do if Trixie actually came to her and asked her to dance? Surely she wouldn’t be so easy-going and self-assured. There were many things about Trixie that made Starlight feel at ease, but there were equally many things that made her feel… odd.

Her partner kicked her hoof a bit, bringing her back to reality.

“Sorry,” she heard. “I’m pretty rusty when it comes to dancing.”

“You’re not so bad,” Starlight replied. “Better than me, at least.”

A soft chuckle in her ear.

“I had some recent practice,” her opposite giggled before pausing. “Wait. Do you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“Me not being so bad.”

“Oh…” Starlight thought as they swayed back and forth. “Yes. Rusty, but you lead well.”

“Do you think…” the other Starlight was getting flustered now. “Do you think, hypothetically, that the pony I’m in love with wouldn’t hate me for dancing with her?”

Starlight frowned. Could this be…?

“Hate you?” she asked. “Of course not.”

She took a deep breath.

“Dancing is a very important part of pony relationships,” she explained. “It’s symbolic, you see? A pair of ponies relying on one another; trusting each other enough to lean on each other as they move through their little world, avoiding collisions and other unpleasantries…”

Her voice trailed off.

“You’re right, of course,” her partner said. She began to slowly take them through a series of quarter turns. Starlight followed her steps and tried not to fall over her own hooves.

“That’s what I read about dancing, at least,” the fake continued. “And relationships.”

Starlight took a deep, calming breath. With every piece of information, her opposite reminded Starlight more and more of herself. But Starlight didn’t even care how the other mare managed it now. Neither was she bothered by the fact the pony was presumably in love with her.

She just wanted to help her.

The piece ended, and they disconnected for a moment.
Starlight looked into the other pony’s twinkling eyes and smiled. “Trixie thanks you for the dance.” She bowed with a smile.

“Thanks… uh… Trixie…” her opposite bowed as well.

She wanted to head for their seats again, but something made her linger. As the music started again, the fake extended her hoof and asked, “May I have this dance as well?”

Starlight giggled and covered her mouth.

“Why, of course!”

Their second time was better than the first. It was a dance called Manehattan this time; a four-beat dance based on steps in a square. The dance was meant to have a small footprint – perhaps to fit into its namesake’s cramped dancing halls, or to feel more intimate.

Whatever the reason, the partners would hold each other close, one hoof bent upwards at right angle while the other would be placed on waist or shoulder, depending on who was leading. To spice things up, they would alternate between dancing pressed against one another and dancing apart. The latter was the hard part – nothing to balance against but a single hoof as each pony stepped through their own four corners.

Her partner seemed to have more confidence and more zest in her movement. When she held her close, Starlight could feel the racing of the pony’s heart against her own. She didn’t dislike that feeling at all, as strange as it was to dance with her own spitting image.

The thought made her blush – just as her copy pushed her away to dance apart. As Starlight looked at her, the fake smiled but led on until they came together again.

“Enjoying yourself, Trixie?” she heard.

“Yes,” Starlight admitted simply.

“That’s good.”

They danced for a few more bars while Starlight pondered the identity of her partner. She decided to approach the problem from a different angle.

“I’ve got to ask…” Starlight began. “Who is the pony you love?”

“Who she is?” her other self echoed.

“Who is she,” Starlight clarified, “to you.”

Again, the leading pony pushed her away, her eyebrows furrowed with thought. She even turned her hoof this time, sending Starlight around in a pirouette. The world swirled around her and her heart beat quickly. For a moment, she thought she would fall, but her partner’s hoof held her firm and strong. In a few seconds, the fear was replaced by exhilaration.

The fake Starlight held her close again. They both drew heavy breaths for a few beats. The dance calmed down as the fake began to speak.

“She is precious to me,” she said quietly. “Even though it’s strange to admit it. It’s different from my other friends, even though it’s hard to explain why.”

She paused as they went through another square of steps.

“But each time she smiles,” her mirror continued softly, “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.

“It’s like pain,” she added. “But with a minus sign. It is so intense that I feel it must hurt – but it doesn’t.”

Starlight didn’t say anything for a few moments. It was as though she really was talking to herself. Wasn’t this the way she felt when she was with Trixie? When they spent winter holidays huddled together, or relaxed after one of their harebrained schemes?

“I see,” she replied finally and cleared her throat softly. “Thank you. For the information, I mean.”

She knew what love was, of course. She understood infatuation and hormones, even if she was a bit too old for the latter. And she knew how she felt when she thought of Trixie.

“I feel the same way for another,” she admitted.

Now she knew why she was so flustered when she’d turned into Trixie. And why her brain had jumped to Trixie when it came to thinking of somepony to turn into.

Starlight knew all of those things, and yet this stranger had made it all click together.

For the first time, she could put a word to this beautiful anguish.

“I just never realized what it was,” she muttered.

Love.

She loved Trixie, she realized. She had loved her for the longest time – and had run away from it for just as long.

The dance ended and Starlight found herself standing opposite her mirror image, nearly overcome with emotion.

“Let’s sit down,” she heard, and let herself be led through the crowd.

A few moments, or a century, later, a purple hoof served her a piña colada. She smiled. Of course the doppelganger would know. She nodded appreciatively and sipped. A familiar purple hoof sat atop hers.

“I know how you feel,” her own voice told her. “It’s a lot to process. But you’ll be alright.”

Starlight looked up, holding back tears. Her other self looked at her with a supportive smile.

“How can you even say that?” Starlight asked. “What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“She might, and she might not,” her opposite answered calmly. “You can never know until you take the plunge.”

“You say it like it’s easy!” Starlight exclaimed angrily, then got a hold of herself and went on in a quiet, fast, even cadence.

“If the love is unrequited,” she explained, “then all of these feelings are for nothing. The minus sign gets thrown out and all that will be left is pain. I’ve seen this happen!”

She stopped herself before she could blurt out that she’d seen it in both her counseling job and her own checkered past. Granted, she’d eventually come around on the latter, rekindling her friendship with Sunburst. For a time, at least.

“It’s not for nothing,” the other unicorn said. “It can hurt, yes. It might hurt for years. But what hurts more is letting the opportunity slip between your hooves.”

Starlight winced and shot her opposite an angry glance.

In those dark years of her past when she cried herself to sleep, one of the things that allowed her to continue was the thought of Sunburst. All those things that could have been – that perhaps still could be, if she just kept going.

Life, of course, has turned out differently. Some of it had caused her pain, but life was good to her overall. She didn’t want to tip the balance back towards darkness with a stupid blunder.

“And you?” she asked. “Did you tell the pony you love how you feel?”

“I–” the fake swallowed. “I didn’t. No. Not yet.”

“Ah, so that’s it?” Starlight asked sardonically. “Is the pain just theoretical to you?”

“I’ve felt enough pain,” the other pony replied quietly. “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?” Starlight asked sarcastically.

“I think I have a solid idea,” her opposite winked. Starlight’s blood froze.

She didn’t even know who this stranger was. The stranger knew her, obviously. Enough to mimic her mannerisms flawlessly while Starlight just complained about turning into a pony she loved. The way she talked about her love was like a mirror to Starlight’s own thoughts.

But the fake wasn’t Trixie. That much Starlight was sure of. She suspected Twilight again, but… Maybe five, six years ago. But the Princess has long since become a distant, old friend. Starlight didn’t even think there was something for them to rekindle there – from either side.

Her opposite’s merry laugh brought her back to reality. She looked up, wounded.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the fake said, suppressing laughter. “I know what you’re thinking. But it doesn’t matter. You made me realize something.”

She sipped her own piña colada, cleared her throat, and leaned forward. Her face grew serious.

“Look,” she said. “The thing is – this feeling I have? The love I told you about? The kind of love you are struggling with?”

She tapped her chest.

“That love gives me one thing – a feeling of absolute certainty. But it’s not like I know she feels the same way about me.”

She took a deep breath.

“I know I have to do it,” she said slowly, “because it’s like a fire inside me. 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 on the table.

“I will do it for myself,” she said resolutely. “And I will do it tonight.”

With that, she drank the rest of the glass in a single swig. Starlight could do nothing but stare as her reflection stood up.

“Now, if you excuse me,” her doppelganger said. “I have a few arrangements to make. Will you give me the last dance before the unmasking?”

“But I—” Starlight began.

“I know,” her image interrupted her. “I’m just asking for the dance. You gave me a lot to think about, and you deserve to see who I really am.”

Starlight bit her lip and nodded.

She sat there, sipping her piña colada as the music began again. Another waltz, with ponies slowly drifting by her table. Thoughts were sloshing around her skull like the ocean. Trixie, the stranger, love and regret, all coming together to a boiling mixture pumping through her brain and her heart, threatening her sanity.

She wanted to go to Trixie right now and profess her love in front of every creature in the room. But of course, she didn’t even know who Trixie was masquerading as.

And she wanted to hide in a bathroom stall and never come out. But of course, she needed to know the truth about the stranger.

Maybe then, once the evening was done, she could face Trixie and tell her. Or she might not. She wasn’t sure.