Followup to: >>1340909
 
 
There were a million ways Starlight thought this might play out. This was not one of them. 
She’d done terrible things, horrible things, all for selfish reasons. She saw that now. But that didn’t dull the sting of seeing the fruits of her labor laid out in front of her. 
A part of her wanted to run. Quite a big part, actually. She could think of any number of hasty excuses that could get her out of that room, and maybe a couple hundred miles from the sight in front of her. Again she glanced down, at the spherical purple belly sitting in front of her, illuminated by the light of a nearby lamp. 
The shock to her system didn’t diminish, no matter how many times she looked back. From the very first time she’d spied it from afar, to that very moment, it hit her with a reality-jarring slap to the face. On the other end of the belly, Starlight could feel a pair of eyes watching her closely. 
What could Starlight say that she hadn’t already? Sorry a million times more? Conjure up some excuse to shield herself, like she always resorted to when things got tough? The pony lying in front of her must be waiting for that. Was this some sort of punishment? Or test? 
She could run. The window was open and unguarded. She could bolt, and she might just make it out of Ponyville before five enraged mares tore her limb from limb. Or, if they didn’t, the wrath of two earthbound goddesses found her first and made death seem like a delightful fantasy. But at least then she wouldn’t be here, dealing with this.  
‘That’s what you always do, isn’t it?’ whispered a voice in the back of her head. ‘Just shift the blame so you don’t feel like such a worthless creature. And look how far you’ve gotten doing that.’ 
Starlight squeezed her eyes shut. Her ears were starting to ring. She felt short of breath, yet her heart spasmed in a panic. Was she about to pass out? Could she get away from all of this that way? Her hands balled up on her lap. Run away, pretend she wasn’t at fault. That was all she ever did, it seemed. 
Something gentle touched her hip. 
Starlight jumped, her eyes snapping open. She found a hand brushing her side with just a few fingertips. 
Twilight Sparkle smiled at her. Just like she did after that whole time fiasco. Just like when she tried to talk sense into her at the village. It was the only smile she’d gotten in a very, very long time. 
“It’s okay,” Twilight said. 
Starlight’s nostrils flared, but she said nothing. Okay? How could this be okay to her? Twilight’s stomach was nearly the size of a beach ball because of what she’d done to her. And it was going to be okay? How? 
Hundreds of questions swarmed around Starlight’s head while she locked eyes with Twilight. She looked exhausted, worse than Starlight remembered her being. When they’d been dueling through space and time, one could scarcely believe Twilight was pregnant for how effortlessly and gracefully she moved. But now it seemed like all of those exertions were catching up with her. Perhaps she’d been channeling a portion of her own magic to keep her unborn child stable throughout her ordeal. Could that be why Starlight had so effortlessly beaten her over and over again; because she couldn’t-or wouldn’t- bring her full force to bear against Starlight? That possibility only made her feel twice as bad. 
And yet here Twilight laid, smiling at her, believing in her when not even Starlight could do it herself. Perhaps that was what compelled her to reach over and touch Twilight’s knee as gently as possible, as if expecting to break it with the slightest bit of pressure. “Do… do you need anything?” 
Twilight’s smile grew. It became warm, and Starlight knew whatever test she’d been thrust into, she’d just taken one step in the right direction. “Would you mind rubbing my feet?” she asked, a shade of embarrassment in her voice. “They’ve been aching all day.” 
Starlight felt something tighten on her face. Dare she believe it could’ve been a small smile? “Oh, uh… yeah, sure. Of course. W-whatever you need.” While Starlight repositioned herself and took up one of Twilight’s small, delicate feet, Starlight looked back up towards her. She licked her lips, and said quickly. “If you need anything, j-just let me know, okay? I’ll be here, I promise.” 
A strange look crossed Twilight’s face at that. It could’ve been surprise, but it was gone before Starlight could identify it. Instead, she smiled larger than ever. “I’d hoped you’d say that.”