The Sum Of Her

“Is this your card?”

The one-eyed King of Diamonds flew from the deck, encased in a turquoise aura. Trixie shook her head. “Nope!”

Next, the Queen of Hearts, her forehooves holding a pair of flowers, levitated before Trixie’s eyes. “Nope!”

“Okay, Trix, this has to be it.” The one-eyed Jack of Spades, the stallion’s tiny mustache wiggling, was the last gamble.

“Nope, nope, nope!” Laughing, Trixie swept her forehoof in a circle. Fifty-two cards followed, spinning around the two mares. The deck danced cascading figure eights through the wagon. “My dear Starry, I’m afraid you have been bested by the Great and Powerful Trixie yet again!”

“But how?” As her three failed attempts sailed on past, Starlight Glimmer scrunched her muzzle. “I did the trick exactly like you did.”

Trixie wiggled an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” With a flick of her horn, the deck restacked itself. She shuffled, once, twice, three times. Billow, riffle, fan, cut. “Watch carefully.” She tapped the deck with a forehoof. Then, she passed it over to Starlight, fanned out the cards, and shut her eyes. “Pick a card. Any card.”

Starlight briefly glanced at the Deuce of Clubs before putting it on top of the deck. “Alright, I picked it.”

“Now, cut—”

Starlight made a quick, uneven cut, switching top and bottom halves.

“—the deck.” Trixie poked one eye open. “All done?”

“Mmhmm.”

Trixie flashed a cocky grin. Lighting her horn, she searched through the cards. She brushed through the entire deck, brow furrowed, a growing frown betraying her confidence.

“What’s the matter, Trix?” Starlight couldn’t help but giggle. “Something went wrong with your little trick?”

Slowly, Trixie nodded, looking up at her with wide eyes. “It sure did, Starry.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I just can’t believe you would do this.”

Starlight tilted her head. “Huh? What did I do?”

“You need to learn to wash behind your ears—” Trixie brought a forehoof to Starlight’s left ear— “because look what I justfound!”

A loud pop rang out. A misty cloud of smoke followed. Starlight coughed, waving the fumes from her face. In Trixie’s outstretched forehoof sat the Deuce of Clubs, the card staring back at Starlight with faceless mirth.

If Starlight hadn’t been in love, she would’ve wanted to wipe that ridiculous smirk off Trixie’s muzzle.

Instead, Starlight playfully rolled her eyes. “Okaaaay, you were right. Card tricks aren’t as easy as they seem.”

Trixie chuckled. “Was there ever any doubt, my dear? Not everypony can be as Great and Powerful as Trixie.” With practiced precision, she teleported the deck away.

Starlight saw the flash of its movement from the corner of her eye. The caravan was a maze of organized chaos. Traps awaited those who dared enter without permission or precision, especially in the dark. The last time she’d been in here, Starlight had almost set off an entire box of trick magic wands. Granted, Trixie had given her the best of them all for her trouble: a wand that transformed into an arrangement of real daisies, carnations, and cornflowers. Somehow, Starlight had managed to keep the flowers alive on her nightstand, where they greeted her every morning since.

That wand was a unique one, Trixie had said. Something she’d been saving for a very specialmare.

“I suppose not. Although...” Starlight said with a widening grin, “If you don’t want totell me how you did that trick, maybe I’ll just have to pry it out of you.”

“Oh?” Trixie raised an eyebrow as she played coy. “And how do you propose you’ll do that?”

Lowering her eyelids as she advanced, Starlight replied, “I have my ways.”

“D-do you, now?”

“Hmm? What was that?” Starlight gasped, bringing a forehoof to her forehead in mock shock. “Was that a stutter I just heard? And from the Great and Powerful Trixie, no less? Oh, how the mighty have—”

Trixie grabbed her, cutting off Starlight as she kissed her deeply.

When it came to intimacy, Trixie always seemed to meet Starlight this way. Almost shyly at first, as if trying to rein in her desire. Then, springing upon her, seizing her with all the ferocity Starlight secretly craved. Like she could only resist until the last second.

This kiss was nowhere near their first. Starlight had once been tempted to try and count them all. Such meticulousness melted away in the heat of the moment. Like the stars in tonight’s summer sky, counting them defeated the purpose.

A rumbling moan cut her thoughts short. Starlight returned it with one of her own, opening her mouth as Trixie thrust her tongue towards hers. She circled her forelegs around Trixie’s neck, falling against her mare’s chest as she deepened their embrace.

The bed was only so big; there wasn’t anywhere for Starlight to go but down. Thankfully, there was no better place for her. She closed her eyes as she imagined it finally happening. After almost a year of dates, kisses, warm touches, tonight would be the night.

As Starlight leaned back, she trailed a forehoof down Trixie’s coat.

While Trixie massaged Starlight’s tongue with her own, Starlight's thoughts raced ahead. Soon enough, Trixie would lean her all the way down, pinning her to the mattress. The growing heat in the small space would be stifling. Opening the windows would be a bad idea, however; Starlight had a feeling she wasn’t going to… come quietly. Or take it all lying down.

If her mouth hadn’t been otherwise occupied, Starlight would’ve laughed at her own terrible jokes. Trixie was making that difficult, sending chills down her spine as she pressed them further together. Starlight could feel her heart pounding at the mere notion of glimpsing this—of glimpsing her—on this fated summer night.

The anticipation throbbing in both her chest, and a place she didn’t want to acknowledge quite yet, Starlight quickened her pace. Between moans, she moved her forehoof down Trixie’s barrel, over her stomach, and across her flank.

Then, she inched inwards.

Oh, sweet stars and moon, yes. Almost there. Any moment now. Trixie could sense it too, couldn’t she? When Trixie would break away, she wouldn’t just leave it at Starlight’s lips, no. Not tonight. Tonight, when they parted for breath, she would move from Starlight’s mouth to her neck, her chest, her stomach, and then, mercy of mercies, even lower, right where Starlight needed, right where Starlight was headed, where they’d both been waiting so long, and here—

It was… cold.

Starlight opened her eyes.

Trixie had pulled away... But not to move her mouth south.

Between the glow of the rising moon and the twinkling stars beyond, the interior of the wagon was cloaked in dim light. Even so, Starlight could see something flickering in Trixie’s eyes as she turned away from her.

“Trix?” When she didn’t reply, Starlight laid a forehoof on her shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Y-you should get going, Starry. It’s—getting late. And… Trixie has… a performance in the morning.” Her words lacked their usual fanfare, but there was an unsettling familiarity to them.

“A performance?” Starlight raised an eyebrow. “Where at?”

Biting her lip, Trixie glanced out the window. “The Great and Powerful Trixie has all kinds of performances. All kinds of… grand illusions.”

Another non-answer.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Before you started… this, again, Starlight held back.

Trixie rolled her eyes. “You don’t own Trixie, Starry. Trixie is her own boss. You are just her Great and Powerful assistant… sometimes.” Though she chuckled, it sounded like an afterthought. “Maybe not when you can’t even figure out her simple card trick.”

Starlight sensed there was something deeper at work here. Something more mysterious than sleight of hoof. “Well… Yes, I’m not your boss, Trix. You’re aren’t obligated to tell me, no. But we’re not supposed to hide things from each other, remember? Like that time with Twilight’s map table?”

Trixie winced. “Th-that was different. You have your secrets, and Trixie has hers.”

“It’s not any different. And I know you’re hiding something right now.”

If this had been the first time Trixie had abruptly broken away when things started to escalate, Starlight could have written it off as a fluke. But this wasn’t the second time. Nor the third. Nor...

Perhaps she should have been keeping track after all.

When Trixie remained silent, refusing to look at her, Starlight huffed. “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious what’s happening at this point.”

At that, Trixie turned around. “What’s obvious?”

“C’mon, Trix.” Starlight groaned. “Don’t play dumb.”

Trixie jabbed a forehoof her way. “Trixie is not dumb!”

Starlight facehoofed. “I’m not saying you are! I’m saying don’t play dumb.”

Trixie scoffed. “That’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not.” If she hadn’t known any better, Starlight would have sworn she saw a wisp of red mana fly from her horn. “It’s—nevermind. It doesn’t matter. We have bigger issues than semantics right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” Trixie asked, almost in a sneer, “And what do you think those would be?”

The plural was as unnecessary as Starlight’s snarl. “The fact that you won’t have sex with me.”

Immediately, Trixie recoiled, as if struck. She avoided Starlight's eyes, that same something flickering back in her pupils.

The ensuing silence ripped Starlight’s resolve to tatters. The frustration in her spirit and her flesh surged as she continued, “The fact that you can’t even look at me right now. The fact that you keep lying about it. The fact that you keep making stupid excuses to get me to leave!” She spoke with her forehooves, gesticulating wildly. “And it’s been this way the whole time we’ve been dating, Trix! The moment things get heated, especially if I touch you, you’re practically shoving me out the door!”

As she rambled, Starlight’s panic brought her darkest fears to light. “Is there somepony else you’re expecting here tonight? Is that what’s been going on?!”

“No!” Trixie shouted, eyes wide with horror. “Starry, Trixie would nev—”

“Are you trying to push me away? Trying to let me down gently?”

“No! Starlight, it’s noth—”

“Do you really love me? Or did you fall out of love a while ago, and you’ve just been playing along this whole time?! Is it because of my past? Are you scared that I’ll fr—mmmmmph!”

Tirade ceased.

Until she had to breathe.

When that moment came, Starlight stared back at Trixie through a haze of confusion. The passion had been palpable; Starlight could taste it on her lips. Yet, Trixie could barely look her in the eye, choosing instead to study the floor, their hooves, the star-patterned comforter they sat upon…

At last, Trixie said, near inaudibly, “It’s not any of that.” Starlight’s ears pricked, straining, as Trixie said, almost a whisper, “I love you, Starlight. I really do. But… It’s… I’m not really…”

While Starlight didn’t really believe her own accusations, she couldn’t imagine what else could make Trixie act like this. So resistant, so… ashamed, as if she was exorcising some ancient demon by just asking. Something that made the Spirit of Nightmare or the Pony of Shadows look like foal’s play.

Starlight had never seen Trixie rendered so speechless.

After what felt like eternity, the spiral of Trixie’s horn shimmered with magenta mana. “I think it’s easier if I just show you.”

Closing her eyes, Trixie concentrated, her brow furrowing and teeth gritting as her aura grew in both size and intensity. Magic coalesced above her, forming a brilliant spiral. As the spell completed, the spiral unwound. The resulting aura wrapped her in its tendrils.

Shying away from the bright light, Starlight waited for the spell to complete. The questions that lingered on her tongue were answered when she looked back.

While Trixie was still sitting beside her, she appeared…

… Different…

In a place that mattered… very much, to the discussion at hoof.

Starlight couldn’t help but stare, even as Trixie’s cheeks burned red.

It was beyond impolite to stare at somepony this way. That was one of the earliest manners any foal learned. However, when ponies were intimate, that was a... different story. Regardless of Trixie’s frigidity, Starlight had snuck a peek at her before. What she had seen prior to this moment looked… Well, like it should.

But this… did not.

“Why do you… A-are you… Um…” Starlight couldn’t even finish. Could neither believe, nor want to believe…

It.

Them.

This.

What snapped her back was Trixie’s uncharacteristically quiet reply, answering the questions Starlight didn’t have the courage to voice. Although she spoke in her vainglorious grammar—Trixie this, Trixie that—there was nothing showboaty about it.

“Trixie is… different. She was always a filly, but… nopony else saw her as one.”

There it was. In her eyes. What Starlight had seen flicker earlier, now defined.

… Shame.

“Luckily for Trixie, her mother and father didn’t… object… when Trixie wanted to really be a filly. It took a while, but… they found a way to… make Trixie happier. When Trixie went to Canterlot to try to get into Princess Celestia’s school, the doctors there used their magic to help her be seen as the filly she was.

“It… wasn’t easy. The magic was… strong. Trixie isn’t quite sure how it worked, but it stopped the—th-the… distressing… things, from getting worse. When they fixed Trixie’s muzzle… it was… p-painful. But it worked. N-not perfectly, but it was the best that they could do. But… there are still... some… things…”

In the warm caravan, Trixie shivered. “S-s-some things cannot… be changed. There’s… no spell for… it, and, even if there was, it’s… risky. Trixie’s doctors could not… undo, everything. Nothing can. N-not even the…” The long, drawn-out sigh seemed to have the mileage of years behind it. “Alicorn Amulet.”

Starlight closed her mouth. She didn’t know how long she’d left it agape.

When Trixie’s eyes found hers, their shine twisted between humiliation and fear, Starlight mustered a breath. “Trix, I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be—I had no idea that you were… or… are… um… that way.”

For the second time that night, Trixie reacted like she’d been slapped.

Starlight raised both forehooves. “W-wait! I didn’t mean—”

“No…” Trixie mumbled, “I’m sorry, Starlight. I knew this wasn’t a good idea.”

“H-hey, don’t say that.” Taking both of Trixie’s forehooves in her own, Starlight tried not to look at what was beneath her embrace. What was between them. “Trix, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just…”

Starlight trailed off, searching for the right word. “Surprised,” was what she settled on, but many more adjectives sprang to mind. Ones she didn’t want to acknowledge.

Trixie tightened her grip on Starlight’s forehooves, but said nothing.

Starlight swept her memory for an archive of spells. “That was an illusion spell. One that you just removed. Probably for the first time in a long while. Right?”

A slow, gradual nod. To the floor.

While she wasn’t going to leave, Starlight felt like she was running from something. Her hooves may have been planted firm, but her lips weren’t, another cruel question escaping before she could reel it in. “So… I know you’ve dated other ponies before, but…”

The way Trixie answered should have comforted her. “Just you, Starry. You’re the only one I’ve ever told. The… only one I’ve trusted enough.”

It did not.

“Oh. S-so you’ve never, uh… been...” The weight in Starlight’s throat rivaled that of a stone. When she swallowed, it felt like gravel all the way down. “Intimate, with anypony?”

“... No.”

To have all the pieces come together should have been satisfying. A puzzle was complete when all the pieces fit where they should. Try as she might, Starlight couldn’t imagine the image before her matching the one she’d envisioned on the box. The one she had started assembling almost a year ago, when Trixie had approached her with a bouquet of trick roses held behind her back.

If she had this night in mind… If she had known…

“H-have you?”

Starlight shook her head.

Another sigh. Higher-pitched. Almost shrill. Trixie still sounded like herself. Like… a mare.

As awful as it was to admit, Starlight had almost asked if Trixie was… the opposite. The thought seemed ridiculous in hindsight. There was no question as to what Trixie looked like. The way her muzzle curved, how she styled her mane and tail, how she carried herself. There was no masculinity to it. No hard edges, unshod hooves, or well-defined muscles.

Nopony in their right mind would have ever mistaken Trixie for a stallion.

Starlight Glimmer knew mares, befriended mares, loved mares. Loved mares. Only mares. She had been attracted to Trixie because of her femininity. While Trixie had a myriad of other qualities—tenacity, surprising depth, even that silly, oftenendearingego—Starlight would be remiss to acknowledge that it was Trixie’s beauty that lured her in first. That hadn’t been an illusion.

… Except for the one that made Trixie look like a mare where it counted.

Outside, there was a pleasant summer breeze and a blanket of stars. Inside, there was only stagnant air and a comforter far too thick for the season. Their hooves bunched up the covers on Trixie’s rarely made bed as they searched for something, anything, their eyes finding everything but each other in the silence.

A hushed concession broke it: “We don’t have to, Starlight.”

The surrender in Trixie’s eyes was no disappearing act. Nevertheless, it threw up smoke and mirrors, making Starlight’s eyes mist. She couldn’t wave these fumes away. She was the one who had brought them forth.

Starlight wanted to punch herself. Was this really that big of a deal?

… Poor choice of words. Correction: Was it worth all this?

As gently as she could, Starlight replied, “Trix, I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I—I know you only like mares, Starlight.”

“But you are a mare!” Starlight insisted, louder than she should have.

“Really?” Trixie’s pained frown was no illusion. “It doesn’t feel like it. I see how you’re looking at me.”

Starlight bit her lip, but not her tongue. “I’m just—it’s a lot to process.”

“Yeah? Well, how do you think I feel?” Leaning in close, Trixie laid a forehoof on Starlight’s chest. “Don’t you know how much I love you? How long I’ve wanted you?” In spite of everything, Starlight blushed as Trixie looked her up and down. “If there was another way—if I could be—all mare for you, I would, Starlight! I’m not—this isn’t—”

Pulling away, Trixie muttered, “Nevermind. Forget it.”

Drawing her back, Starlight began, “Wait, Trix, don’t—”

“I’m sick of talking about this.” Trixie wiggled out of Starlight’s embrace. She teleported the deck of cards back into her aura. “Here, let me show you how to do that trick. It’s really easy. All you have to do is just—”

One aura slapped another away. The cards fell to the floor.

“Okay, you did not just do that.” Trixie narrowed her eyes. “You can’t be that bitter about one little card trick. And I’m not playing Fifty-Two Pickup.”

“Trixie!” This time, Starlight sought not to hide the distress in her voice, but to impart it. “We have to talk about this! We can’t just—”

“We’ve already been talking about this.” Trixie scowled. “Don’t you think I’ve had enough?”

Starlight flinched. “I’m not trying to—”

“I know what you’re trying to do, Starry.” Trixie gathered the scattered cards and slammed them back in the deck. They magicked away, lost with her other tricks. “You’re not comfortable with this. You’re not comfortable with me. In fact…”

Before Starlight could stop her, Trixie cast the illusion spell with a powerful spark. Applying it appeared to take less effort than removing it. Magic thrummed and pulsed down her body, cloaking everything between her hindlegs into a more familiar shape. One that Starlight could look at without acting like she was about to throw down a smoke bomb and run.

“... There. It’s gone. Forget it, okay?”

Despite Trixie’s contrived conviction, the dismissal tunneled straight through Starlight’s ears to her heart. She averted her gaze, fidgeting, trying to search for the right words. The right way to fight her own façade.

Trixie sighed with an audible finality. “Starlight, we don’t have to have sex. Ever. I’m—fine with that. It’s not a big deal. It’ll be f-fine. I’ll be… f-f-fine...” Chest heaving, Trixie stared down at the floor.

Starlight looked over, wanting to touch her, but unsure if she should.

Then, Trixie added in a whisper, “A-as long as you’ll still have me.”

No words could articulate how fast Starlight pulled Trixie close, kissed her, and assured her that, in spite of everything she’d conveyed to the contrary, she wasn’t going anywhere. That she still loved her.

All of her.

The former was no lie. The latter...

When she left shortly afterward, fumbled goodnights and awkward glances trailing behind, Starlight now had a number for the times she had made Trixie cry.

One.