Dancing with myself

by Thesmokinguy

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Fiddlesticks, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Romance, Flim and Flam, Octavia
Length: 4488

Fiddlesticks and Octavia go on a blind date. They find they have a lot in common. Perhaps too much in common for their liking.

Fiddlesticks is looking for her special somepony outside of Appleloosa

Octavia is looking for a pony she can truly connect with

They both find out about the Lovebirds diner ran by the Flim Flam brothers

The two of them meet there

They both find themselves in each other

Literally.

This is not a incest story I swear.

Written as part of Bean's writing group using the prompt "Dancing with herself". Many, many thanks to RDT and Hope for prereading and editing this story that otherwise would have been a lost cause without their help.

**Featured 04/18/2023, thanks everyone!**

Published 2023-04-18 16:50:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-04-18 16:50:00 UTC

They both have their own sound and are perfect in harmony.

Standing in front of the restaurant, Fiddlesticks straightened her hat, wishing she had a mirror at hoof so she could check how she looked. No amount of checking if her clothes were in the right place would help to calm her nerves.

She had come a long way from Appleloosa to Ponyville for this, carefully calculating how long it would take her to get here so as to be as punctual as possible. And here she was, at the “Blind Lovebirds Diner”. It was advertised as an innovation when it came to blind dating, courtesy of the Flim Flam brothers. All you had to do was sign up a form with your personal information, and the “lovebird” machine as they called it would do the rest. Lo and behold, you would be set up with your soulmate for a date one day later. A success rate of 110 per cent, and supposedly approved by Princess Mi Amore Cadenza herself.

Truth be told, this was the last place she ever expected she would find love.

Her curiosity was piqued the moment she read the flier. Now, she was no desperate mare that would need something like this to hook up with somepony, or that she would need somepony so badly. As nice as it was to bond with the same familiar faces she always saw in Appleloosa, she wanted to go out there and meet that special somepony who would turn her world upside down, and who she could talk with for hours and make her feel whole after a long and boring day of work. But the thought of being disappointed or worse, heartbroken, kept her from doing so. Looks were deceiving and she knew that, for she was a distrustful mare. What if the pony she thought was the one ended up being just a silly crush?

That pretty much summed up the reason behind her nervousness. Not so much about her or her own looks, even though the lingering fear of not being good enough for somepony was still there. But rather, the other way around. She didn't really trust herself to not let looks get in the way, and not give a chance to who could be the ideal lover. This could be either the chance of her life, or just a waste of time and money. At worst, she thought, she would leave with her hooves, or rather heart, empty, but not her stomach. If she could at least make a friend though, it would be worth it.

But she was not going to accomplish anything by just standing there. Deciding she shouldn’t make her date wait any longer, she took a deep breath, opened the door, and strode inside. Looking past the reception desk, the interior reminded her of those fancy restaurants one could only find on Canterlot, but without the “glamor”; It looked like it was decorated in a rush with the kind of stuff a desperate colt so madly in love would use on his first date. The red curtains and other red accessories were barely discernible from other colors thanks to the dim light and the presence of perfumed candles that lay around. What truly stood out for her though, was that where Fiddlesticks would have expected tables, chairs, and ponies sitting on them, she found about a dozen of booths with a number on their side.

“Welcome to the Blind Lovebirds Diner! Where love is in the air! May I have your name please?” The voice of one of the brothers—which one of them was a mystery to her—made her jump a little as she was brought back to reality.

“Fiddlesticks. I booked a table here a couple days ago.”

With a grin from ear to ear, he responded, “Fiddlesticks? Oh, are you one lucky mare!”

She raised an eyebrow and before she could ask why, the other brother appeared from behind. “We are certainly proud of who you were paired with! Truly we outdid ourselves.”

“Please come in. Table number eight, Octavia is her name!” the first brother said in a musical fashion.

“We hope you enjoy your date!” both said in unison.

Only when she walked past the reception did she notice how hushed the restaurant was, or almost at least. The sound of jazz music completely drowned out the muffled chatter of the ponies inside the booths. At the other side of the restaurant she found one with the number eight on it. Her booth.

Making her way through the booths, she took a look inside some of the empty ones, and found the reason behind that strange choice of tables; an opaque window split the table the couple was in, so they could talk and listen to each other without ever seeing the pony at the other side. Truly a reinvention of the blind dating wheel.

This unique addition dissolved all of her doubts, as it fitted her approach just right. She would not have to worry about subconsciously betraying her principles. A heart to heart date of which the result will be decided by who they truly are instead.

With a new surge of confidence, she got inside her own booth, determined to start her date.

Just when she was about to phase through the red curtain, something pinned to the curtain caught her eye. It was a sheet of paper with the name Octavia written on it. The brothers were smart enough to consider the possibility of ponies entering on the same side as their dates, thus spoiling the blind part of the date, just how she was about to. She secretly praised their foresight.

This time making sure she was entering the right side of the booth, she made herself comfortable on the inside, letting her body sink into the comfy leather seat as an overwhelming but pleasant aroma coming from the candles lightning the interior took over the air. The scent of the candles along with the dim red lighting around her with the smooth jazz music on was a festival for her senses. Right in front of her was her portion of the table, which would remain empty until one of the brothers came over to take her order. Above, there was a window with a heart in the center shielding her view, now a wine red tone thanks to the candles. Behind it was the mare chosen by fate.

Before she could think of anything to break the ice, said mare beat her to it.

“Fiddlesticks? Was a bit worried I would have to wait too long to meet my date. I do appreciate the punctuality. That's always a bonus,” she said with a characteristic posh accent, one that led Fiddlesticks to believe she came from high society. That could be a problem.

“Yeah ah- I made sure to catch the train in time. Didn't want to be late for my first date, you know?” Fiddlesticks said, trying her best to suppress her accent. “Octavia, right?”

“That's me indeed. You had to take a train, you say? Are you not around here?”

“Appleloosa actually,” Fiddlesticks answered apathetically.

Great. She just had to be paired with a rich snob. Probably from Canterlot or one of those fancy cities. She sounded like the type who would judge her for being a farm peasant, or mock her country accent which she already felt self conscious of. There were certain physical aspects of herself she wasn't happy with that could be easily concealed with proper dressing choices, but others were not as easy to hide, not behind a booth at least. How could she be good enough for somepony like that? The thought of making an excuse and leaving before the impending humiliation would happen crossed her mind.

“Apologies if I'm interrupting anything, but may I take your order?” the one brother without the mustache asked while standing outside of the booth.

“I would like to have a bowl of curry and a glass of wine, please,” Octavia said without missing a beat. Fiddlesticks expected her to order something fancier, like lobster.

“Terrific. What about you, miss Fiddlesticks?”

She took a look at the menu, which she noticed was a particularly varied one at that, until she found something that caught her eye. She was not leaving Ponyville hungry. “The spinach artichoke turnovers sound nice. And some apple cider.”

“Right away, ladies!” After jotting down their order, he took off to where Fiddlesticks assumed was the kitchen.

“Appleloosa, huh, That's quite the journey for a blind date,” Octavia said while taking a sip of her wine. “So, first time?”

“I'm sorry?” Fiddlesticks said as she put the menu down.

“I figured a good way to get a date going is to get to know each other a bit more. You said this was your first date, didn't you?”

“Yeah, it is. Also my first time doing this blind dating sorta thing.”

“Me as well. The blind date, I mean. I’d wanted to try something new, and this experiment sounded promising. There's also this ball I have been invited to this weekend and I would rather not go alone. Maybe I could find a worthwhile partner to take with me here.”

“That’d be swell,” Fiddlesticks answered without trying to hide her lack of enthusiasm.

“What about you? What brings you all the way to Ponyville for a blind date?” inquired Octavia.

“Well, Appleloosa ai-isn't the biggest town, and while I know everyone around there, none of them are what I'm looking for. And because I didn't think I would find my special somepony there, I decided to look elsewhere. Also I don't really believe in looks as they can be deceiving, but from what I can feel from the heart,” —Fiddlesticks facehooved for that last part. That didn't come off the way she intended— “if that makes sense.”

A familiar face peered from outside the booth “The drinks are here! One glass of wine for Miss Octavia, and a jar of apple cider for Miss Fiddlesticks!” He said as he placed each one on both sides of the table. Fiddlesticks grasped the jar and began to chug on it.

“It does actually”

“Huh?” Fiddlesticks stopped drinking and placed the jar back at the table.

“That's a stance I can respect,” said Octavia as she took a sip of her wine. “You see, as you may have been able to notice by my name, I happen to be a musician. And the best music pieces out there are those that are authentic and filled with the heart the musician has poured into it. When that passion is there, you can actually feel it.”

“Wait, are ya-you, a musician?” Now her curiosity was picked.

“Indeed. A cello player to be precise. I play in concerts from time to time. What about you?”

“I do like music a lot too. It may not be too much but, my passion is the violin, as you can also tell from my name.” Fiddlesticks stifled a nervous laugh. “Have been playin’ it since I received my cutie mark, that's how I got it too.”

“That's very nice! Always fancy to meet a fellow artist,” Octavia joyfully said.

“It is!” Fiddlesticks took another quick sip of her apple cider. “How long have you been playing the cello by the way?” She asked with genuine interest, wanting to talk about music just a bit longer.

“From the moment I could hold a bow. I was classically trained in a variety of string instruments until eventually one stuck with me. I had the privilege of having two prolific musicians as parents who wanted the family trade to carry on. This also meant I had to wake up very early to begin my cello practices—which would last hours,” Octavia explained as she took a spoonful of her curry, humming in delight at the taste.

Fiddlesticks nodded to nobody. “That sounds like a lotta pressure for a foal.”

“You see, as difficult as that may look like, “ Octavia stopped for a moment to take a sip. “It has been a habit for my entire life. I consider artistic work and training a ritual on its own, one that I have to fulfill in order to call myself a musician.”

“That I can relate to. I respect work ethics as I usually wake up early to get the farm work out of the way to find some time to practice with the fiddle as the sun rises. Nothin’ like sticking to a routine.”

“Indeed. As a firm believer of discipline instead of playing when inspiration strikes, I agree with that. It has to be the other way around, it must catch you working.”

“Right on!” Fiddlesticks energetically agreed as she took a bite from a turnover.

“You know, it's kind of refreshing to finally find someone I can have this sort of conversations with, as most ponies I am surrounded with run away at the minimum hint of nuance.”

“I feel ya-you, hard to have meaningful conversations in Appleloosa too.”

“If it makes you feel better, I tend to drop a date quickly if the other pony I am with doesn't prove to be interesting enough. So far this hasn't been the case.”

Fiddlestick blushed “That's gotta be good, right?”

“Indeed it is.”

They continued to eat in silence for a bit before Octavia broke the silence.

“Hopefully I won't come off as rude with this, but I have noticed you have a bit of an accent, albeit very subtle.”

Fiddlesticks began to feel a bit uneasy “Oh uh, yeah. I Did say I was from Appleloosa.”

“Right, but I have also noticed you trying to suppress it. Is a really lovely accent, and speaking as someone with a bit of it herself, you shouldn't try to hide it.”

Fiddlesticks felt the heat rise to her face. Just because she had made such assumptions about Octavia based on accent alone didn't mean that the other pony did the same towards her. And it wasn't like she'd done a good job of hiding it, anyways.

“Sorry,” She said.

“What? why?” Asked Octavia, mouth still full.

"I said I didn't let appearances sway my judgement but despite that Ah couldn't help but think you would reject me for not bein’ in the same kind of social circles as you are.”

When all she got was silence for an answer she worried for a bit, thinking her honesty just ruined everything. Seconds later, Octavia spoke.

“I'm going to be honest with you, Fiddlesticks. That wasn't really nice to hear.”

“Am really sorry, Octavia” Fiddlesticks apologized again, burying her head in her hooves. “I am such an idiot.”

From the other side of the booth she heard a hoof knocking on the barrier which no doubt would have been Octavia reaching out to reassure her in other circumstances, or so she wanted to believe.

“Now don't beat yourself up like that. It bothers me, yes, but it didn't really affect our date now did it? You overcame those thoughts no doubt stemming from your nervousness about doing this for the first time and that's all that matters. Not only are you punctual and an artist but also honest” she stopped for a moment to chew on her food “some traits I wish were more common among my peers, ya know?.”

“Indeed” Fiddlesticks replied, imitating Octavia’s accent in a playful manner, a tone that was conveyed successfully to Octavia who giggled.

"Thank you," she said, intentionally slipping back into her true voice. "It means a lot." And with that, it felt as if a great weight which threatened to hold her down for the whole date was taken off her shoulders.

“No problem dear. Oh, I'm not anticipating the outcome of this dinner am I?” She joked as she roared with laughter, probably the wine’s doing.

Fiddlesticks chuckled “Not at all sugarcube.” She winked, though at times like this she wished there was no barrier that blocked it.

The two of them laughed together and when it died down, something popped in Fiddlesticks' mind.

“Ah do have a question about you if you don't mind me askin’, now that the topic has came up.”

“What is it?”

“Ya seem like the kind of popular pony who goes to balls and concerts and that would be surrounded at all times by suitors from which to pick their partner for the ball. Why go on a blind date?”

She heard Octavia clear her throat as she set her utensils down. Seconds later she answered.

“As high society and stuck up as I can appear to be, that's not a lifestyle that goes with me. It overwhelms me, actually. Part of the reason I moved to Ponyville was to get away from a busy kind of life full of luxuries, the shallow and boring upper crust who all they got going for them is money. What I yearned for was the peace and tranquility a place like this would bring me, one that would allow my passion for the cello to bloom. And I'm actually in the same wavelength as you are when it comes to appearances.

She made a quick pause to catch her breath. "In Ponyville is where I met the closest I could call my best friend after so long, a unicorn who taught me not to judge based on appearances, even though we vastly differed on musical tastes. Hence why I was a bit offended about what you said. If I have come here was precisely to look for somepony to know me for who I am instead of how classy or wealthy I look like, as well as to not let looks distract me from an interesting pony who I can take to a ball to make it as less boring as possible. ”

Fiddlesticks was in awe. She was wrong about Octavia, and she couldn't be happier about it. Not only had it been so long since she last talked with someone so insightful and interesting as her, but she was beginning to believe her very own soul was like a mirror of Octavia’s. She had no idea how the Flim Flam brothers arranged this date but they surely must have done their homework. How could somepony so perfect exist beyond Appleloosa?

She smiled to herself. If only she could picture her by her words alone, she was sure Octavia was the prettiest pony she could have imagined.

“I can't believe you just said that.”

“It's true and ya know it!”

“How dare you say such a thing! I truly expected more from you!”

“But cellos are just bigger violins, try to prove me wrong will ya?”

Octavia gasped.

Despite the seemingly intensity of the argument, Fiddlesticks had been smiling to herself the whole time. She didn't actually mean to say that cellos and violins were the same instrument minutes ago when they were talking about music, but she would be lying to herself if she didn't say that she loved seeing Octavia getting so passionate and fired up over something like this, though she had the sensation she would strangle her if there was no window in between. She also had the sensation the cellist was secretly enjoying this too.

“Oh had I brought mine with myself I happily would. However, I will just say they can't be the same thing since the Cello is clearly superior.” Octavia smugly responded.

Now it was Fiddlesticks turn to gasp. “Come again?”

“That's right, the cello can play music in the bass, tenor, and treble clefs, whereas the violin is only limited to the latter. Plus, it objectively sounds much better.” She remarked in a matter of fact manner.

“That's phony baloney!”

“I'm afraid dear Fiddlesticks, reality is not on your side, .”

“The cello maybe has a wider reach, but the sound of the fiddle is unmatchable, you are just jealous it's a smaller and better version of it.”

“Such elitism.” Said Octavia.

“Look who's talking.”

.
..
…

The two mares bursted into a fit of laughter.

Once it died down, Octavia was the first one to comment “This is the most fun I have had in ages I will admit. Celestia knows I missed talking about music like this.”

”Thought you lived with a musician, ain't she much of a talker I reckon?” Fiddlesticks asked.

“Uh, you can say that.”

Fiddlesticks was about to take another bite from her spinach turnovers when she suddenly recovered the track of time. The afternoon had flown by in what seemed a casual talk with somepony she could have sworn she knew all her life if she didn't know better, but as it turns out they stopped having just dinner a long time ago. The real date was just beginning.

“At least can we agree that both instruments have their own sound and are at their best when playin’ together in perfect harmony?” Fiddlesticks countered.

Octavia chuckled.

“I can agree to that.”

The muffled chatter she found when first entered had finally diminished as she heard ponies exiting the local, disappointed or not it didn't matter to her. There were only the two of them, right there in that restaurant for all she cared. This was it. They were proven to be compatible enough, all that was left was to take the final step, and step out of the booth. Let themselves see and love each other, with all their perfections, warts or whatever.

“Octavia, I-

A voice in a megaphone accompanied by a roll of drums cut her short “Ladies and gentleponies, we are about to enter the GRAND FINALE! Those of you who have made it this far will have the opportunity to look at your potential future husband-”

“Future wife!” Added another similar voice.

“Future marefriend!”

“Or future coltfriend!”

“To the eye for the first time in this venue! Are you ready? We will lower the booth windows in three…”

Fiddlesticks was taken by surprise for a moment before she collected herself. No matter how she would look, be it ugly or beautiful, her feelings for her would remain untouched. It was not that she could finally see her exterior, but that she could finally hug her. “Well, seems like he beat me to it. Let's do this Octavia.”

Two…”

“Yes.” Octavia sounded as determined as Fiddlesticks was. “Let's go for it.”

One…”

Here we go!”

The window heard the cue and slowly but surely began to make its way down through some contraction hidden beneath the table. Fiddlesticks continued to be amazed about how the brothers had thought of everything. She judged them wrong too perhaps. Looking straight in front of her, she was ready to behold and put a face to the mare of her dreams with the same eyes of expectation as those who observe the sun rise at dawn.

As it went down she took a glimpse of a gray darkish poof of hair, which a further roll down revealed a longer mane behind it. Soon, she was staring directly at her eyes, those captivating purple eyes which hypnotized her for a bit, distracting her long enough for the window to be all the way down to her torso. When the whole picture was revealed, it took her a bit to realize something was off.

‘What kind of joke is this?’ She thought. Even with their reputation, she would have never thought they would go as far as to pull this stunt, and place a literal mirror behind the window. An odd choice of a mirror too, as hers appeared to be a black and white sort of mirror.

She noticed something however, among that puzzled look on her face which she too was wearing, that the reflection was missing her hat, and was wearing a bow-tie.

When she reached out to touch the mirror, she found out she had booped a pony’s snout.

Fiddlesticks resisted the urge to scream.

Octavia was mortified.

She was glad at first. Glad that she could picture the pony of her imagination who had spent the most friendly afternoon she had for so long with. As she expected, the sight of a white hat blocked almost all view of her mane, but she could still see Fiddlesticks’ eyes, a captivating arctic blue she could have gotten lost in where for her not to see the rest of her features. Very familiar features. Too much, in fact.

Initially she thought she had been paired with a changeling, because the hosts being the Flim Flam brothers of course there had to be a catch. But it didn't sound right, that couldn't be. Maybe doppelgangers were real.

Or maybe it was just pure lack of luck.

This was extremely awkward for her to say the least. What would other ponies say if they saw them together kissing in public? It would surely draw some unwanted attention towards them given the implications.

When the initial shock passed, she took a good look at her. Is this how she would look like if she were to dress informal? With a cool head, she almost found this interesting.

And, as narcissistic as it may sound, she was really attractive.

Ponies like these were extremely rare to come across; Knows a thing or two about hard work, is a dedicated musician, is pretty, punctual, honest, and also rather pretty. She gave her a really good time and didn't disappoint, which was something she couldn't say about several of her past dates.

She couldn't let looks distract her. She couldn't let Fiddlesticks go.

It was no mirror.

It downed it on Fiddlesticks when she booped Octavia’s snout. She was real and she was standing in front of her. A pony so alike to her she even got the same looks as her. Well, almost, there were still differences in the way they dressed and their colors.

But still it bothered her a bit, to the point she had mixed feelings. How weird would it be to be dating an almost exact copy of yourself? The fact she was from a rural area would raise some uncomfortable questions too. What would other ponies say about this? Part of her wanted to turn her down and leave, which would go on to become a bitter memory washed away by booze.

Fiddlesticks however also asked herself when was the last time she got to talk with somepony she could be herself with. Where could she ever hope to find the closest she could call her soulmate?

She had a feeling rejecting this opportunity fate tossed at her would become one of her biggest regrets. So she didn't.

Looks meant nothing to her after all.

Thus both mares, in unison, greeted their respective marefriends for the first time in their lives.

“Greetings.”

“Howdy.”