The Savages We Are

Prologue: Critical Mass

The winter solstice is the most beautiful night of the year, unless you happen to be me.

Okay, so it's still beautiful.  Only a couple stars have appeared so far, but they glisten brighter than they do on any other night, and when you get away from the lights of the city, it's even more amazing.  The sky is cloudless too; the weatherponies made sure of it.  The cool breeze flits through the branches, and the soft rocking motion of the trees relaxes my eyes, and the whistling melody is gentle to my ears.

The problem is, I can't stand the cold.  And I don't mean that in a stuck-up sense.  It's not like I'm pampered.  I literally cannot survive in a cold environment.  I'm cold-blooded.  No number of scarves or coats are going to keep my body warm when my body doesn't make its own warmth to begin with.  One of the few (and I'm going to emphasize “few”) downsides of being a dragon.

On some nights, if it's too cold, Twilight actually forbids me from leaving the library.  Tonight, though, was an exception.  Tragically for me, like I said, this is the winter solstice.  The longest, and coldest, night of the year.  The Winter Sky Celebration is an important event, especially this one, and Twilight insisted I come and participate.  But even layered up with my entire wardrobe, I am still fighting the biting cold and wishing I could be back in bed.

We arrive at the hilltop where we're planning to watch the show, and Rarity is already there waiting for us.  She's punctual, as always.  I can't help but feel that it's somehow necessary, like if she were ever late for a meeting, everything she's worked to build would fall apart.

For Rarity, life is a continuous commission.  As a result, she's permanently locked in an artistic and analytic mode.  Which is why I think she takes one look at me and is aghast with horror.  I'm probably shivering, although I've given up trying to feel my extremities.  “What have you done to Spikey-Wikey?” she cries in a panic.

I will never admit that I actually like that nickname.  It is a secret I will take with me to the grave.  Which, gaging by the current temperature, can't be more than fifteen minutes away.

She doesn't even give Twilight time to answer the question before lifting me up in the air with her magic and pulling me close to her.  “Don't you worry,” she tells me in a little sing-song voice.  “I'll keep you warm.”  Being cold-blooded, I can't blush, not really.  It's a good thing too, or I'd be blushing like crazy.  I'm quickly nestled against Rarity, my back to her front as we both sit on the grass.  I can feel the heat coming off of her, and I relax.

Maybe the cold isn't so bad after all.

Rarity is beautiful.  I don't think there are enough words to properly describe her beauty, (or if there are, I don't know them,) but I'm going to try anyway.  The way she moves is elegant, like she's being carried on invisible wings.  If all you saw was her feet, you'd assume she was a pegasus.  Her voice is always comforting, without her even trying.  Her attitude is always upbeat, encouraging.  Being around her motivates everyone to be their best.  And I haven't even started on her physical beauty.  Even on her off days, her coat is pristine.  You can tell from her eyes, a deep blue like a gemstone, sparkling with determination, that she gives every job one hundred and ten percent.  And it makes you want to do your best too.

It's not a crush.  I don't think it ever was.  I love her.  As terrifyingly thrilling as the idea is.

I've always had an appreciation for the beauty of mares.  Back in Canterlot, before Twilight and I moved to Ponyville, there was Moondancer, not that she ever noticed me.  And due to her upbringing, I don't think she ever would have.  The very notion of such a romance was outside the realm of her imagination.  I'm hoping that Rarity will be different, that she'll notice.  It's possible that she already has.

I'm stirred from my inner monologue as my other friends arrive.  Alright, they're Twilight's friends, not mine, but they do their best to make me feel included.  Like a family, we're close.  Some of us a bit closer than others.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash.  Some of us saw it coming from a mile away.  They didn't.  Watching them slowly realize what had been plainly obvious to the rest of us was, to say the least, incredibly amusing.  Applejack is tucked under Rainbow's wing, and it reminds me of how Rarity is helping to keep me warm right now.  Is it really the same thing?  I don't know how Rarity sees it, but I can pretend.

I missed the beginning of the conversation, but I'm privy to the end, and for fun I decide to figure out what they were talking about before they arrived.

“You're dodging the question, Applejack.  Be honest now, who do you think would win?”

“I told ya once, I'll tell ya again, Rainbow Dash!  I don't care who wins.  We are not putting Winona and Tank in a cage match!”

“I know that.  I'm not saying we should.  What kind of horrible pony do you think I am?  Just, what do you think would happen if we did?”

I realize that I am no longer interested in their discussion.  I have much more important things to do, like revel in my closeness to Rarity.  “Are you excited for the show?” I ask her.  “What's it like?”

I'm grasping at straws, and she knows it.  “I thought Twilight already explained what happens during the Winter Sky Celebration?” she asks me.

“Yeah, she did...” I say, thinking frantically, trying not to look foolish in front of her.  The perfect answer comes to me.  “She did,” I say, “but you know how Twilight is.  Asking her to explain something is like reading out of an encyclopedia.  She doesn't know how to capture beauty.  You're a lot better for that.  Seeing how you're so beautiful yourself.”

She laughs, and I pray that it's because she thinks I'm charming and not because I just made a fool of myself.  Knowing her, it's probably both.  I'm pretty sure she appreciates awkward sincerity.  She better, or otherwise I don't stand a chance.

“Now, now,” she chides in a joking manner, “it's not nice to talk about Twilight behind her back.”  I'm mortified, but it only lasts a second before she breaks out into a lively chuckle.  “I jest,” she tells me, and I relax a little.  “We all have our shortcomings, even Twilight.  This is your first time watching the stars on the winter solstice, isn't it?”

I nod.  “I was too young before,” I explain.  “Twilight would never let me stay up this late.”  Great, I realize too late, now I look like a child.  Since Rarity is so much older than me, I have to work hard to prove to her that I'm mature.  Statements like that fly in the face of the Spike I'm trying to show her.

Fortunately, I don't think she noticed.  I tilt my head upwards and hers appears, albeit upside-down.  She's smiling, and it's a gentle calming gesture, and I melt.  Spending a moment with her like this is all I can really ask for.  But part of it feels like cheating.  Does she know that I'm using her smile this way?  Am I somehow taking advantage of her?  This can't last, and I know it.

“It's a lovely sight, Spike,” Rarity tells me.  “The stars shine more brightly than on any other night, and you get to watch them appear one at a time, until all the constellations fill up the sky like a tapestry.  You can read off the legends of each one as they form, a parable written in the stars.  All of ancient history can be seen discovered in the sky, if you know where to look.  And then there's the comet storm, a blizzard of brightly colored shooting stars that dance around like fireflies.  You've been missing out on a true face of beauty Spike.  That's why I'm so glad you're here this year.  We can enjoy it together.”

Is she implying something?  Or am I over-thinking things again?  The problem with Rarity is that she's nice to everybody.  This would be so much easier if she was mean to everyone but me.  Then I would know I was special.

But then she wouldn't be the Rarity I fell in love with.

“You know,” interrupts Twilight, who was apparently listening in on the conversation.  I had forgotten she was still with us, and I hope she didn't overhear the things I said about her.  “You're not the only one who's new this year.  This is Luna's first Winter Sky Celebration, too.”

“First one since she came back?” I ask her.  I don't bother mentioning what she had come back from.  None of us ever do.  It's easier that way.  She had just “come back”, and that was that.

“Her first one ever, actually.  The tradition of holding a celebration on the longest night, and making it comparable to the Summer Sun Celebration, didn't begin until after Luna's banishment.  I suppose it was like an apology of sorts.  A way to prove that her efforts weren't completely unnoticed after all.  And now that Luna's back, she's going to be the one orchestrating it.  I'm honestly excited to see where she goes with it, since this year will certainly be different from any year before it.  We are literally witnessing history tonight.”

“That's great,” says Rainbow Dash, and it sounds like she's really trying to get in the moment, but it ended up being too hard.  She's bored, but not for lack of effort on her part.  “Where's the food?”

“Pinkie Pie is catering, as usual,” says Twilight.  “But until she gets here, you might as well get comfortable.”

Other ponies have begun to arrive, setting out blankets a little ways away from the one Twilight brought.  To Rainbow's disappointment, none of them are Pinkie Pie.  She grumbles something too quiet for me to hear before pulling Applejack away so they can spend some time alone.  I watch them go, jealous of their success.  Twilight must have noticed my behavior, because she leans over and fake-whispers in my ear, loud enough for Rarity to hear.  “You know,” she says, “there's a legend that if you make a wish during the comet storm, it will come true.”

I'm skeptical.  This doesn't seem like something Twilight would believe in.  She's the real bookish type, so I decide that if such a legend did exist, she'd know, even if she didn't believe.  “Is that really true?” I ask her.

She shrugs.  “Maybe.  Probably not.  Does it matter?”

Rarity grins cheekily.  “What would you wish for, Spikey-wikey?” she asks me as if she doesn't already know.  I'm trying to come up with a believable and witty response when I'm saved by Pinkie Pie finally making her grand entrance, carrying a tray filled with cupcakes, popcorn, and hot dogs, plus a punch bowl.  They're not exactly foods known for being served together, but Pinkie is Pinkie, food is food, and I am hungry and desperate for a distraction, so I don't put up much of a complaint.  Our conversation gets put on hold while we stuff ourselves, and if I have any luck at all, it won't come up again.

Fluttershy arrives last, only to encounter Pinkie gushing over Rainbow Dash and Applejack.  She seems to be the only pony who still sees their relationship as some sort of heralded miracle.  The rest of us have moved on, but I think Pinkie is trying to see how many parties she can squeeze out of it.

“This is perfect!” she squeals.  “You two will both have someone at midnight!  It's an easy way out, but still!  I'm so excited and happy for you.”

“Midnight?” Applejack asks.  I'm just about as confused as she is.

“It's a Winter Sky Celebration tradition!” explains Pinkie.  “At midnight, you have to kiss somepony!  Otherwise, you're doomed to a whole year of loneliness!  Doomed!  How awful would that be?”

I look up at Rarity, who's still holding onto me protectively.  I know it's probably just a friendly gesture and a way to help me keep warm, but Pinkie's words are stilling echoing around in my head.  “I don't think we need to worry about loneliness,” I say.

“Right you are, Spike,” agrees Rarity.  “We've got a perfect circle of friends right here.  That's what matters.  Silly superstitions or not, we'll always have each other.”

“Preach it,” adds Rainbow, and her group makes their way over to join us.  “You guys know you always have my back, no matter what!”

“Best friends forever,” chirps Pinkie, “through thick and thicker!”

Twilight levitates seven glasses from the tray and dips them in the punch.  “I don't think I could have said it better myself,” she says, offering us each one of the glasses.  “As long as we have each other, there's nothing we can't accomplish.”

“You know,” I decide to let slip to the others.  “Twilight won't have to worry about loneliness either.”

Twilight rages silently and blushes.  “Spike!” she hisses at me.

Applejack cocks her head, uncertain.  “And what the hay is that supposed to mean?”

“It means Twilight has a date tomorrow!” I announce enthusiastically, spoiling her fun and loving every moment of it.

The poor mare is standing slack-jawed in shock.  She's about to say something, but Rarity cuts her off and points at the stars.  She might be saying something, but it's drowned out by Pinkie's excited gasping, because the rest of the stars have begun appearing.  Rarity's right about it being beautiful.  Each star on its own is pretty enough, but when they start to come together to form the constellations, their beauty only multiplies.

Like us, I think.  We're a constellation, with Twilight at the middle of.  I'm briefly reminded of Twilight's cutie mark.  Was that what it really means? I wonder.  A six pointed star with the five stars around it.  It's almost too much of a coincidence, but I don't think much more about it, because I've starting thinking about Pinkie's tradition again.  It's too big an opportunity to pass up.

I weigh my options.  On one hand, if she doesn't have any feelings for me, this certainly isn't going to cause anything good, and it could create a whole lot of awkwardness.  But on the other hand, if she gets too weirded out or disturbed, I can just say that I was keeping with the tradition.  After all, I don't want to be doomed to a year of loneliness, do I?

No, scratch that, I correct myself.  I don't want to doom her to a whole year of loneliness.  I'm just looking out for her best interests.  I can even make it sound sappy and sweet.  I was doing it for her.

I hear the Ponyville bell tower strike twelve, and the note vibrates against my body.  It somehow reminds me of the beginning of a game of pool, as strange and as sudden as that comparison is.  This is the break shot, when the cue ball shatters the rest of them and everything changes.  I'm not even sure where the image came from.

Before I can stop myself I stand up, turn, and kiss Rarity full on the lips.  Her eyes widen in shock, while I'm enjoying the moment.  A bit of guilt creeps in; maybe it wasn't right to surprise her like this?  But there really wasn't a better moment, and this was always how confessions went in all the books I'd read.

She pushes me away from her, a lot more violently than I would have expected.  Even if she didn't like it, I thought she would have at least been patient.  Not rough.  This wasn't rejection; it was physical violence.  I'm thrown to the ground, and as I push myself back up, I notice Rarity's shifty glancing.  I slowly turn around and realize with growing horror why she's so uncomfortable.

Every pony on the hill is staring at us.

Above us, the comets appear and arc across the sky.  I don't know if they're beautiful or not; I'm not watching.  No one is.  All eyes are on me.  My eyes are on Rarity, who is still sitting, jaw agape, trying to come to terms with what I've just done to her.

Twilight takes this moment to step in.  “I'm sorry,” she tells Rarity, although I'm not sure how much good her words are doing.  “Believe me, I'm going to have a very stern talk with him when we get home.”

My stomach tightens with fear and anticipation.  I hate it when people talk about me like I'm not there, but I think I've earned this one.

Rarity tries to laugh it off, but she's cracking under the pressure.  “It's fine,” she manages to get out, with a great deal of difficulty.  “Kids will be kids, won't they?”

I don't care if she's just trying to do damage control to get everypony else to stop staring at us; her words still hurt.  The only thing more insulting than the claim that my sudden burst of courage was somehow childish is the niggling feeling that it actually was.  When it comes right down to it, is there really that big of a difference between courage and stupidity?

Twilight turns to me, and I swear she looks angry.  But then in an instant it vanishes, resurfacing in small flickers as it breaks the surface and dives down again.  She's struggling to stay in control.  I decide then and there I'm not going to do anything to push her.

“Spike?” she says, taking charge of the situation when everypony else is content to just gawk.  “We're leaving.”

Already?  “But what about the show?”  Now the comets are just flashes in the corner of my eye, and I want to get a better look at them before the night is over.

“You've put on enough of a show already,” she tells me, and I don't think I can argue with that.  She turns and sets off back toward Ponyville.  She doesn't look back to make sure I'm following her, because she knows I am.

We walk in silence.  I put on a display of obedience until we get back to the library, and then I turn up the volume.  “I don't get it!” I cry.  “What did I do?”  I'm pretty frightened by the look Twilight's giving me, but I'm still going to bargain to see what it can get me.

She is clearly not amused.  “Don't try to pull this, Spike,” she says.  Then, she adds a “please”, as if it will suddenly make the words coming out of her mouth that much sweeter.  “You know what you did.  A scandal like this is the last thing we need.”

Scandal?  Is that all she's seeing in this?  It seems like she's forgetting the most important detail of my foolish venture on the hilltop.  “Twilight,” I say, trying to get her focus.  “Rarity is... I love her, Twi.  I'm sorry that you don't appreciate that.”

“It's not like that,” she says, conflicted.  “I know you do.  I understand.  It's just... she's a mare, Spike.  No one can mistake that.  And this is Ponyville.  You and her... it would cause problems.”

“Because I'm not gay.”

I don't think she was expecting me to get to the point.  She's been dancing around the subject, and she probably thought I would too.  But I'm already fed up, and I don't have time for this.

“Well, yes,” she confesses.  “You know how traditional Ponyville is.  A boy and a girl dating, having an actual romantic relationship... It wouldn't work, Spike.  Maybe in Canterlot, maybe in Manehattan, but not in Ponyville.  Things are different here, and we have to deal with that.  You know what they say: 'In griffin land, act as a griffin would'.  And when you're in Ponyville, well, you play by their rules.”

“But why?” I ask.  I'm not trying to be difficult.  “Why do we have to make them happy?”

She closes her eyes and begins reciting.  I know what she's going to say; it's nothing I haven't heard at least a dozen times over.  “'And the mares and the stallions shall be two halves of the great divine, and in their union new life shall spring.  And to ensure that the holy creation would not be desecrated by the follies of sin, the powers that be gave mares the gift of each other, and gave stallions unto each other for their own pleasures, so that the life-giving union shall remain pure.'”

I do admire Twilight's commitment to education.  She's quoting from memory a book I'm ninety percent sure she doesn't believe in.

She sighs.  “That's the public face of Ponyville, Spike.  It's what everything they know is built up around.  You can't fight it.  When you're in public, it's easier to just go along with it,” she explains.

“Then I don't think I want to live in Ponyville anymore.”

“And when you're grown up, you won't have to,” she assures me.

I was already frustrated, but now her stubbornness is aiming to push me past the tipping point.  I want to feel for her.  Part of me knows that she's just as stressed as I am, and I should try to be gentle with her.  But I can't.  She deserves everything I can throw at her right now.  I'm not the one responsible for this, and I'm not going to be the only one to suffer.  The only problem is, I don't know what to do now.  What can I possibly do to her but sulk?  Lash out?  I would never want to hurt her, and I don't think I'd be able to.

“I respect you for you,” Twilight continues.  “I do, I swear.  It's just... and I don't want you to think that it's anything against you, but really, do you have to be so public about it?”

It's a question with only two answers.  It shouldn't be that difficult to answer.  But I think about it anyway.  All my years of experience race by me.

And suddenly I'm falling.

It's my birthday again.  The day I gave Rarity the fire ruby and my heart.  We're plummeting to our deaths, and I decide that if I'm not going to survive, I should die an honest dragon.  But the look in her eyes is telling me that everything I want to tell her she already knows.

I'm back in the library, and I have an answer to Twilight's question.

“Yes.  I do.”

Twilight sighs, but now she's not as frustrated.  I don't think she has enough energy to be frustrated.

“Please, Spike.   I'm tired.  I want to talk to you about this.  I want us to come to an understanding.  But at the rate things are going, I don't know if that's going to happen tonight.  We can talk about this more in the morning, if you like.  I'd really like to.  I don't want to fight.  But it's late, and we could use a chance to sleep on it.  Both of us.”

But I don't think either of us slept much that night.