Little Scars

by take flight

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Romance, Spike, Rarity
Length: 11975

Spike and Rarity bond through tragedy. Memories may fade, but little scars remain.

After a long day of work, Spike shares an intimate moment with Rarity that sparks a budding relationship. Together, the two recover from tragedy and move toward an uncertain future and inevitable conclusion.

A short romance set several years after the conclusion of the series.

Published 2012-02-12 05:44:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-09-09 23:05:15 UTC

I- Blaze

Spike sat in the waiting room, head hung low. His claws clutched a simple bouquet of flowers. An expression of absolute grief clouded his face. The scene broke Twilight’s heart. In the past hour, she had tried, unsuccessfully, to arouse some sort of multi-syllabic reply from the dragon. Finally, the unicorn stopped pacing, trying one more time.

“Spike, are you sure don’t want to get anything to eat?” Despite her efforts to advance a conversational tone, her words felt hollow and empty. The dragon shook his head, eyes affixed to a point on the tile floor. His grip slackened on the flowers; petals drooped onto the ground.

“Alright, Applejack and I are going to grab a bite. We’ll be right back.” She nuzzled the dragon softly before departing, the sound of hoofsteps fading as she trotted down the hall. The room returned to its quiet equilibrium- the dull thrum of the air conditioner, the occasional voices of the doctors and mares that staffed the hospital.

The dragon stretched and stifled a growing yawn, feeling every muscle in his body groan in protest. This was, he thought, the worst he had ever felt. Grief, sadness, and anguish all coalesced, forming a heavy pit that hung in his stomach. His heart ached, stung by rejection. A pain he thought he had escaped long ago.

Rarity had simply refused. His eyes watered just thinking about it. Of course, he followed her wishes, staring wistfully as her friends all bid her a speedy recovery, entering her hospital room with arms laden with gifts.

It drove Spike to insanity. Was he good enough? Maybe he was gone for too long. He was foolish for thinking a mare as stunning as Rarity would hold out for him...

Twilight was the last one out. Her face was cheerful, and she made assurances that Rarity was recovering quickly under the able care of the doctors. But her magenta eyes were downcast and bitter, and she knew better than to hide emotions from her closest friend.

“She...doesn’t want to be seen. You know how sensitive she is about her appearances.” Her voice cracked. The dragon simply nodded, looking over head to a point on the horizon.

The dragon held onto a meager scrap of hope. He planned the scene in his mind- the bright sun, Rarity’s warm smile, the tight embrace. And so he waited for the entire day.

The hospital waiting room was a place of endings. Only this time, it wasn’t a life that was dying, but a love.

His shoulders slumped forward. He sighed, idly examining the flowers he clutched in his hands. The deep purple lilacs, so breathtakingly beautiful when he picked them, had wilted and faded over the course of the day. They hung dejected, barely clinging to a drooping stem. He snorted, dashing them against the ground.

Yesterday, life was so simple. How quickly things change.

Twilight’s lecture circuit had her traveling across Equestria for the past year. After visiting Ponyville, she asked Spike to keep her company over the last leg of the tour. Spike packed his bags and taught Big Mac and Fluttershy the basics of running a town library. They gratefully took the opportunity.

He had bid Rarity farewell on the library balcony, surrounded by Luna’s impeccable night. He promised he would return shortly. She promised she would try not to miss him too much. They held each other through the night, eased into the comfortable silence that graced only the closest of lovers. Sunrise came too soon.

And so their relationship progressed to one of words and distance. Spike wrote letters of hope and longing. Rarity replied with words of courage and wisdom.

He hated it. The masks of stoicism and composure he was forced to wear. The endless lectures, the pointless formal dinners, the uptight social gatherings. But he saw the absolute joy that graced Twilight’s face. She was living her dream. So why wasn’t he?

They finished in Canterlot, Twilight wrapping up her series with a final discourse that packed the castle lecture hall. Ponies from all over came to listen to the most powerful magician in Equestria. Spike smiled and made polite small talk. It felt fake.

Rarity, I’m coming. This night will be the last we’ll be apart.

Celestia had insisted they stay for the night, in Twilight’s old quarters. The dragon bed he once occupied was many times too little- he settled by making a nest of sheets and pillows. Flashing turquoise eyes, as deep as the Equestrian ocean, haunted his dreams.

It was the Mistress of Dreams that had woken them, storming into the bed room, her face etched with concern. A freak electrical storm, she explained, had ravaged Ponyville. There were fires. One Element was missing. Spike felt an uncharacteristic murmur in his heart as Luna mouth formed a single word. Rarity.

Luna summoned her personal carriage, giving the pegasus explicit instructions. Fast as possible. No stops. May the stars guard you, she had wished. Spike managed a wordless hug, gripping the Princess of the Night in a tearful embrace.

The lunar wind was behind them that night. Equestria’s provinces zoomed by, towns looking like specks of dust below them. They made it there before dawn broke. Spike half-ran half-stumbled to the Carousel Boutique, heart pining. Rainbow Dash and Applejack were picking through the rubble, eyes glazed with tears. Rarity had been rushed to the hospital.

There was the sound of light hoofsteps, drawing Spike from his miserable reverie. “Mr. Spike? Miss. Rarity requests your presence.”

Spike’s heart twisted. He followed the nurse obediently, weaving through the hallways of Ponyville General. They ducked under a low doorway that read Burn Unit. His stomach clenched. He felt like throwing up. “Miss Rarity is inside.” She motioned to the door with a single hoof and trotted off.

Spike mustered up the tattered remnants of his courage, emotionally steeling himself. Gripping the doorknob with a claw, he slowly entered. The door swung shut behind him with a small click.

Two lights illuminated the room in a pale, sterile glow. A side table was littered with flowers, cards, and books.

Rarity herself was sitting up, facing away from the door. A low moan, “I’m so sorry Spike.”

The dragon closed the distance, enveloping her in a deep hug. She drew away, her body tensing. Burns scissored her back in angry red coils of knotted, scarred flesh. Her once lustrous mane hung limply, patches of it burned and ragged. Bandages covered her seared hooves.

“Please don’t look at me,” she whispered thickly, pulling herself into a fetal position. “...I can’t stand it.”

Spike leaned in, gently nuzzling her shoulders and neck. Her perfumed, feminine scent was masked by metallic tang of smoke. He caressed patches of unmarked flesh, his touch light and tender, like a mare cleaning a newborn.

When his attentions reached the nape of her neck, she drew back further, curling up in a corner of the hospital bed. “Don’t look,” she pleaded weakly.

He combed her mane, gently unknotting twists of ragged, patchy hair and smoothing them out. His mind had slowed down, relishing the simple pleasure of contact. In his mind, her previous actions were forgiven.

Finally happy with the state of her loose curls, Spike began to massage her shoulders, gently kneading his claws. She sighed gratefully, tension escaping her body.

And then they returned to silence. The silence of lovers communicating through touch. The perfect simplicity of it, thought Spike. The unexpected romance that lurked in the most unwelcome, the most unforgiving of places.

He reached her neck and cautiously stroked it, his sensitive claws running over a patch of jagged flesh. Rarity tensed, but didn’t draw back.

It was a sign. He leaned in to kiss her, so gently, on her neck. But Rarity had other ideas, she turned, and caught Spike’s lips with her own.

Every cell in Spike’s body came alive. His mind surged. He wanted to suspend time in that moment, frame and store it forever, the perfect scene.

She drew back first, lightly panting, her turquoise eyes glittering.

A single, deep burn stretched from neck to her right eye, scoring half her face a dark red splotch. It was like she was wearing a half of a grotesque mask. The mare drew back from Spike’s silent gaze, shielding her face with her bandaged hooves.

Spike reached out a claw, stopping her. He began speaking unsteadily, words formulating in his mind. “Some called our relationship love at first sight.” The dragon reached out, carefully wiping away her hears.

He continued. “But, I didn’t fall in love with you for your mane, or your fur, or your face.” He smiled gently. “I fell in love with the kind, generous, sweet Rarity. The one that has always existed.”

“Oh Spike.” She threw her forearms around his neck, clutching him, sobbing freely and deeply into his chest. “Please forgive me...” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Earlier I-”

The dragon shushed her, raising her chin and gazing into her eyes. “You are beautiful Rarity. You always have been, and always will remain so. Remember that night, a year ago, when we finally confessed our love for each other?”

She nodded slowly, face flickering with confusion.

Spike continued, drawing in closer, breathing in the scent of her mane deeply. The smell of smoke had disappeared. “Remember what we talked about?”

“Scars.” She whispered. “But these...are more than ordinary scars.” Sadness crept into her voice. “These can’t be hidden.”

Spike silenced the troubled mare again, gently nuzzling her face, tenderly stroking the patches of burned flesh. “Don’t,” he finally breathed. “Let them see you.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

“These are no different than the tiny scars that mark all of us,” he said. “No matter what you look like, everypony knows the inner Rarity. The generous, beautiful, sweet Rarity. The Rarity we all love.”

Tears dripped freely, seeping into Spike’s chest. His breath caught in his throat.

Spike hugged her closer. She was more beautiful than ever.

A/N:

As always, thanks for reading. Your tracks/comments/reviews keep me writing.

I have one more chapter planned for this story.

II- Waltz and Gems

She hid well. With the right magical charms, a floppy sunhat, and a hip new cloak, Rarity rejoined Ponyville society with poise and grace. Her presence was welcomed back to open arms and much celebration, her speedy recovery attributed to modern medicine, unicorn magic, and universal healthcare.

But she knew in her heart it was more than that. The painful operations, grueling physical therapy, nauseating medications- she braved them all with Spike by her side. His soothing voice and tender claws, always quick with a massage or hug. These drugs and spells had nothing on the healing effects of love. And so she grew stronger by his side.

Rebuilding the Carousel Boutique was no small feat, but Ponyville was a town of able carpenters and magicians. The framework was up within the week, last nail hammered in the same month. Beautiful gardens bloomed where rubble and ashes had once lay.

Business boomed. Orders poured in from across Equestria, and Ponyville became a capital of fashion and commerce. The workroom walls were torn down and the building was expanded twice. Rarity took on her own apprentices, treating the young fillies (and single foal) like her own children. They were all gifted- of agile hoofs and quick minds, and the Boutique’s productivity soared under Rarity’s tutelage.

Then, during the Summer Sun Celebration, she invited Spike to live with her. How could he say no? He packed a small bag, leaving the library in Big Mac and Fluttershy's more-than-capable hooves.

Days slowly melded into weeks and those into months. Twilight’s return to Ponyville was brief. She was barely able to reacquaint herself before being whisked away on another adventure. A short diplomatic trip, she had promised Spike. She would be back before they knew it. He wrote one of letters that night, begging Celestia and Luna to watch over her. Ponyville slowly moved on, but like a deep scar, the pain of her absence never truly receded.

Trees were harvested, their branches sagging with apples. Food was stockpiled as droplets of rain turned into tufts of snow. During the midst of a blizzard, a Canterlot chariot landed in town center, bearing the purple unicorn Ponyville had longed for. Her purse was laden with golden tickets- invitations to the Grand Galloping Gala.

Derpy the mailmare was run ragged with orders. The apprentices were on winter break, and for the first time, Rarity was forced to turn down requests. But Spike would still wake at night to the thrum of the sewing machine, even after Rarity promised to sleep.

It was one such night. Spike slumped into the workshop, rubbing his bleary eyes. Candles and lanterns lit the room in a warm glow. The windows of the Ponyville houses were dark, save for the quaint dress shop.

“Oh dear,” Rarity muttered absently, horn glowing as an array of sewing equipment soared through the air. Spike ducked under a roll of velvet, narrowly missing the fabric as it whizzed above his ears.

The workroom was in an impressive state of disarray. Gems, bridles, shoes, sewing equipment lay scattered on the floor. Scraps of fabric hung from curtains. A spilled bottle of dye lay half-congealing on the floor. The metallic tang of gem polisher permeated the room.

The unicorn dashed from table to table, objects levitating and spinning in her deep purple aura. There was little to do when Rarity was in one of these states. Spike resigned himself to settling in a chair, watching a master artisan work her craft.

Spike’s eyes began to follow the contours of her back as she flitted across the room. Her pristine, snow-white coat was raked with shiny, dull pink scars. A simple enchantment could hide them, but Rarity had long given up on maintaining the facade- among friends, at least. Her purple mane was tossed into a lazy bun, forcing the mare to constantly blow strands of loose hair from her eyes. A pair of red reading glasses was perched on her muzzle.

The dragon sighed, reaching into a burlap sack and grabbing a gem. She was mesmerizing, singing an old tune quietly as fabrics and gems transformed into beautiful and striking gowns.

A thought struck him. “Rare, have you finished your own dress yet?”

The unicorn snipped a section of fabric, laying the pink cloth on the workbench. Her face darkened, revealing the weariness set deep in her eyes. “I haven’t decided if I want to attend,” she said, absently stroking her face. The burn had healed to a light pink, but a ring of dark red surrounded an eye- a painful reminder of a burning beam that had struck her on the way down.

Twilight had explained burns were unlike lacerations or bruises. Fire was a powerful manifestation of magic, injuring ponies in ways not understood (although Twilight did publish several papers on the topic in the months after the accident). The wounds could be hidden, but impossible to heal. Not that she hadn’t tried, and Rarity proudly bore a faint scar where Twilight had attempted to draw blood.

“I’ll think about it, Spike.” She nuzzled the dragon gently. “There’s so much to be done. My mane is in terrible shape,” she said, pulling a ribbon from her mane. A scraggly, thin heap of purple hair fell forward.

The dragon’s eyes drifted around the room, mental cogs turning. Attending the ball was a must. “Maybe we can think of something together...” He leaned in for a kiss.

“Must be hard to think when you spend all day staring at my rump,” she said, swatting away his face. The mare trotted to a dress rack, hips swaying. “I’ve finished all of our friend’s dresses. Come take a look?”

They were masterpieces, the dragon gushed. Works of art in their purist form. Rarity’s style had evolved over the years, focusing on quality construction over gaudy showpieces. The dragon enjoyed teasing her with photos from their first Grand Galloping Gala. “Broaches? Sequins? A tiara? Really Rarity?”

He stopped at Twilight’s dress, examining the plain, inky fabirc. It felt light and fragile to the touch, like sheets of tissue paper. There was a matching amethyst necklace, painstakingly polished until it sparkled in the faintest of lights.

Rarity couldn’t suppress a gin as she bounded over, folding the gown up with quick, practiced hooves. “You know who our Twilight is going to the Gala with, right?” she said conspiratorially, leaning into Spike’s ear.

The dragon’s eyes widened. He hadn’t heard from Twilight for a while. They had sent letters back and forth almost constantly, but the stream of mail had quickly slowed to a dribble, and then stopped. The idea of Twilight finding a mate rested strangely in head. “W-who?”

“You won’t believe it!”

“Who is it?”

Rarity flashed a cheeky grin. Gossiping was something she’d never outgrow. Spike could feel her hot breath on his ear as she whispered, “Rumor has it, our little Twilight Sparkle has been seeing Princess Luna for some very private lessons.” She followed up with a suggestive eyebrow waggle.

“B-b-but Luna? And Twilight?” The dragon pursed his lips together in thought. “All those times they went stargazing.” His eyes widened in realization. He blanched. “So that’s what they were doing on that camping trip! They could have at least brought their own tent!”

The two broke out into hysteric laughter, crashing into the floor and rolling about, clutching their sides.

Catching his breath, Spike wiped a tear from his eye. “You have to go now.” With a surprised squeak, Rarity found herself pulled into a kiss. “Can’t miss the opportunity to see our star couple?”

She giggled, whispering, “I’d like to think we’d be the star couple of that night.”

“That’s the spirit.”

The unicorn got to her feet, rummaging through rolls of multi-hued fabrics. “But there is so little time, Spike! Two days hardly enough to make a dress, much less invent one from scratch.”

“We’ve done crazier.”

Spike joined her hunt, scavenging around the room, gathering up loose odds and ends with renewed vigor.

Dear Princess Luna,

It’s been too long since we’ve last talked. How is Celestia doing? Things are going well in Ponyville, and we all eagerly await the night of the Grand Galloping Gala.

I write to you to humbly request a favor...

-

Spike,

I’d be honored to help. I better be invited to the wedding.

-

The castle of studded with luminescent globes of light, it’s golden rays projecting far beyond Canterlot. A procession of ponies slowly snaked their way into the great hall, the air abuzz with laughter and restless chatter.

“It’s beautiful,” Rarity whispered, eyes shining from the castle’s luminescent glow. “Although Twi and Luna may have gone a tad overboard. As if on cue, a rocket screeched into the night sky before bursting into thousands of shimmering lights.

Spike grinned. “Always knew she had a fun side in her.”

The paparazzi went insane, bursting into neighing cacophony of questions and camera flashes. Princess Luna smiled mysteriously, a wing draped over Twilight. The unicorn did her best to maintain a demure expression, but eventually broke out into a fit of nervous giggles, blushing furiously as the alicorn led her down the path to the castle.

A collective murmur of ‘awws’ followed Fluttershy and Big Mac, who swiftly trotted into the hall, tight smiles plastered on their faces. Rarity had selected a soft white for Fluttershy’s dress, the most elegant gown of the evening. Her hair was tied into an elegant braid, studded with tiny white flowers. A small bump was barely visible on her stomach.

The procession continued. Applejack and Rainbow Dash, linked arm in arm, trotted confidently down the red carpet. Pinkie Pie, despite arriving to the event a single mare, had somehow procured a handsome brown stallion in the past five minutes. They skipped past the throngs of ponies, singing a chirpy dance number about the wonders of time travel.

Spike offered his arm, watching the door close after the pink pony. An hush fell over the crowd- they turned expectantly to face the next pair. “Are you ready, my lady?”

With a deft hoof, she slipped on a mask, fitting it snugly over half her face. “Let us depart, dear Spike. We shouldn’t keep the crowd waiting.”

They emerged from the darkness, stepping gingerly onto the carpet.

Hushed whispers. Photographers steadied their cameras.

The dragon wore a simple fitted suit, complementing his wiry, lean figure- almost the height of an adult stallion. A ruby bowtie clasped his neck. He turned to Rarity, a wide smile on his face.

An audible gasp, followed by the chatter of a thousand of jaws collectively dropping. Twilight, who was half-watching the procession, lost focus. A firework went skittering into the sky. “Is that...Rarity?”

Her flowing purple mane was cut daringly short, forming tousled spikes that framed her delicate features. Half of her face was enveloped in a brilliant red mask, adorned with gold accents that glittered in the moonlight.

A collective gasp arose when she turned to face the crowd, revealing scars that snaked up her muzzle and surrounded a deep, turquoise eye. Dull pink contrasted with fiery red, her face into a beautiful, guarded enigma. Her lips twisted into a demure smile. Dragon and pony, linked arm and arm, trotted on, each radiating confidence and glamour.

Her dress, made of layered red fabric, seemed to sway and flicker, as if containing the essence of fire itself. It was a tribute to the craft of dressmaking, testament to the wonders Rarity synthesized out of bolts of silk.

There were peals of laughter and shouts of astonishment when the pair reached their friends. Spike and Rarity had secluded themselves the day leading up to the Gala, giving only mysterious responses to those who asked questions.

“Oh my, Rarity...” Twilight’s voice trailed as she hugged her friend. “You’re stunning. Where did you get the idea for such a design?”

A mysterious smile flashed across the dressmaker’s face. “I had some inspiration.”

To Princess Luna’s utter mortification, Celestia had insisted on giving the introductory address to the Gala’s many guests. After five minutes, a red-faced Luna dragged her sister off the stage, to the guffaws of the crowd.

They were swarmed. Ponies were pressed hoof to hoof, craning their necks for a sight of the handsome dragon and unicorn that seemed to be birthed from fire.

After an eternity of polite answers and strained smiles, they slipped into a hallway, one of the many dark catacombs that snaked through the castle.

“Spike, where are we going?”

“I want to show you something.”

They reached the end of the narrow passageway, and the dragon pushed his way through a rusted door. The pair stepped out onto a small tower balcony, overlooking the castle grounds. Below them, Canterlot stretched on to the horizon, a mosaic of shining white buildings.

Above them, the moon flared with pale oranges and yellows, like sparks leaping off of a fire. The night sky was studded by stars, twinkling orbs of light in the far distance. They took a moment, reflecting on the perfect silence and stillness.

“Oh my,” the unicorn sighed, sitting on her haunches. She nuzzled Spike, her spiked mane tickling his neck. “What a marvelous night. Look at the moon, almost as bright as the sun."

The dragon’s heart thumped in his chest. “Something to remember this night by.”

He reached into his jacket, retrieving a simple silver necklace. Hanging from it was a transparent, flawless diamond, cut into an intricate, six-point heart. The unicorn gasped, eyes watering. With a gentle claw, the dragon rotated the gem. A beam of moonlight caught it, revealing a deep, jagged cut running through the diamond. In the light, it sparkled a fiery red, more vivid and passionate than anything Rarity had ever seen.

“They call this the Parum Cicatriz.” He tenderly placed the necklace over her head. The gem rested, hanging loosely from her neck. “The Little Scar," he whispered.

The dragon dropped to a knee. He felt faint, but his voice came out tender and confident. Equestria stood still for a moment. “Rarity, will you marry me?”

With a delighted gasp Rarity tackled the dragon, nearly knocking him off his feet. He stumbled and caught her in a tight embrace. “Yes yes yes,” she whispered, planting a teary kiss on his lips.

A/N:

As always, thank you for reading, tracking, rating, and commenting. You rock. Epilogue to come.

III- Vows in the Night

III- Vows in the Night

Rarity fidgeted with her dress, tugged at her hair, batted her eyelashes, and squirmed in her seat. Her makeup artist let out an exasperated sigh, resting a now smeared makeup palette on the ground.

“Honestly, Rarity. You’ve been sitting here for five minutes. Now tilt your head to the left, please. I’m almost finished.” Twilight maneuvered to Rarity’s cheek, nimbly applying the colored powder with deft strokes of a brush. With a flourish, she swiveled the seat around, granting Rarity a view of her full reflection.

Rarity gave a little squeak of surprise, pulling Twilight into an hug. The purple unicorn shifted awkwardly, attempting to avoid touching Rarity’s hair, which had taken ages to style.“Oh Twi, it’s lovely! Gorgeous! Where did you ever learn to such artistry?”

The purple unicorn gave a little cough, mind wandering to the nights she played dress up with a certain princess. “Erm...natural talent?” She busied herself by clearing makeup from the crowded table. The air in the small room was damp and heavy. It had been a back shed before Applejack had it converted to a makeshift wedding prep room. A few chairs and tables rounded out the plain space. The floor was strewn with fabric scraps and leftovers from the day’s lunch.

“Then, your cutie mark should have been a mascara brush, Twilight. I could not have done a more fabulous job myself!” Rarity leaned in, examining her face more closely. Dark eyeshadow ringed her deep blue eyes, shrouding them in a grey, smokey mist. Twilght’s pale blush did not conceal the scars- Rarity had vehemently protested the idea- but rather eased the transition between the pink, shiny burns and her muted white fur. It looked natural, but unmistakably beautiful and elegant. Perfect.

“Now, stand up. Let’s see that dress. Tack hemmed it and brought the sides in a bit closer.” A young grey unicorn stood nervously in the corner, eyes flitting around the dressing room. She was Rarity’s youngest apprentice, but was immediately recognized as immensely gifted. A spool and thread adorned her otherwise plain flank.

Rarity obliged, pirouetting in front of the mirror. She and Spike had settled on simple, understated attire for the wedding. Her dress was form fitting, emblazoned with streaks of white and red. She briefly considered the traditional bridal train, but, much to Twilight’s chagrin, had deposed of it the night earlier.

With a crash, two figures burst through the door, nearly knocking the heavy wood off its hinges. Rainbow Dash shook out her mane, spraying water droplets with impunity. Rarity shrieked and dove for cover. Rolling her eyes, Applejack stepped forward. Rivulets of water ran down her body, forming a warm puddle beneath her. Rain plastered her straw yellow mane to her face.

“So apparently the weather ponies had ahn unexpected change of plans for tonight,” she said, directing the words to her companion.

“Hey!” Rainbow Dash gave her hair a last vigorous shake, spraying a final volley of water around the room. “Not my fault. That’s the last time we let the new kids use the storm generator, I’m telling you that.”

“Well, you guys can stop it, right?” asked Twilight. She stole a quick glance at the clock, brow furrowing with worry. “Quickly?” Rarity crawled out from beneath a table, her perfect hairstyle now in a crumpled disarray.

“Well, I can try. No promises, though.” Dash opened a window, revealing the howling gale outside. Fat droplets of water spilled in, drenching the rugs. She flashed Rarity a saucy look. “Afraid of getting a little bit wet?”

The unicorn harrumphed, pointedly ignoring Dash. With Twilight’s help and a bit of hairspray, she began teasing her mane back into shape. Finally, Twilight spoke. “Tack, can you run out and grab Big Mac? They should let us know if anything changed.” The unicorn ran out the room, a grey blur disappearing into the storm.

“Dash, if you are so inclined to be less...destructive. There are a few things I need taken care of.” Twilight’s horn shined as specks of dust and dirt flew from Rarity’s mane, depositing themselves in a neat pile on the dresser.

“Nah, I’m good.” She motioned with a toss of her head. “Apple, ya ready?” The Earth pony rolled her eyes again, but followed Dash out into the rainstorm, the door banging shut.

They worked in silence for some time, Twilight neatly reprocessing Rarity’s hair, and the bride herself touching up now creased out. “So, are you excited?” asked Twilight, a smile blossoming on her face. “I still can’t believe it...”

The unicorn returned her smile, the thought of Spike warming her heart. She busied herself by brushing invisible motes of dust from her hooves, brushing the soft fur until it shined. “Very much so, Twi. How quickly things have changed in the past few years. The feeling is almost... indescribable, really.”

“Well, me and Luna wish you the best. I can still remember when Spike was a baby hunting for excuses to spend more time in your boutique. The good ol’ days, right?”

And there Rarity was, snuggled against Spike as the fireplace slowly dimmed, filling the room with a soft warmth. That fateful night, when the subject of conversation turned to examining their little scars. Rarity brushed her mane absently, her eyes unfocused, fixed on some point deep in her memory. “Yeah,” she murmured.

***

The rain’s rhythm slowed, imperceptibly at first, but finally turning from a steady downpour into a light trickle. Rays of sun peeked from beyond the cloud peaks. The air smelled fresh, cleansed by the downpour. Beads of water hung glistening on the delicate petals of flowers, only to be smashed away by the mare galloping through the fields.

“Spike!” Luna called out, grimacing as a hoof landed in a puddle with a wet squelch. There was no reply from the dragon, so she entered the library, taking care to duck her head beneath the low door. Several alicorn-horn-shaped dents from past library rendezvous seemed to mock her.

She entered the library antechamber and skidded to a sudden halt, her quick mind immediately attempting to process the scene before her. Spike was wearing the half-stages of a suit, as if he had given up on dressing himself partway through. Wrinkled black slacks were buttoned messily around his waist. Tears fell from his eyes, splashing messily on the ground. He held a smooth, inky black gem, rolling it idly in his claws.

“Spike?” She took several cautious steps into the library. She had expected to find Big Mac and the rest of the groom’s entourage, but the stallions were conspicuously absent. Heavy silence hung in the air. “What is the matter?” she asked.

The dragon sighed, carefully returning the stone to a worn leather pouch. “Oh, Princess. Hi.” He flashed her a flat smile. “I’m doing quite fine. Thanks.”

“Forgive me for being so forward, but your condition, coupled with your upcoming ceremony of matrimony, makes me believe you are doing less than fine.” Luna closed the gap between them, gently nudging the dragon over as she took a seat next to him. “Now, tell auntie Luna what the problem is.”

In spite of himself, Spike managed a hoarse chuckle. He smoothed out his pants with a claw. “Today is her birthday,” he said plainly.

“Oh?”

“Except...I’m feeling anything but happy. She’s always tried to hide her age, but the thought still hangs over me. Her life is so...fragile. Short.”

Luna drew a sharp intake of breath, his words cutting into her. For first time in many centuries, she was at a loss for words. She simply sat there, enveloping the dragon in a hug.

“Every year,” he mumbled. “Every year she ages faster and faster.” His voice was flat. “How can you stand this? Outliving everypony that matters to you.”

Upon seeing the princess’s pained expression, Spike wished he could take back his words. How stupid I am. Concerning myself with these thoughts on my wedding, of all days.

But when Luna finally spoke, her voice confident and strong, her words carefully measured. “Spike,” she began. “The passing of loved ones never becomes easier, every death building upon layers of scars on my heart. For many days and nights I nurtured the same thoughts as you, continuous nightmares that ripped at my heart . I could not stand the idea of someday being alone. One of these nights, I browsed the library to ease my troubled mind. I found a dusty tome of poems. My time is probably short in the larger scheme of things, but the day is long. And that night, I resolved to end my pitiful wallowing and suffering. If a mortal pony could accept death with such simple hope and optimism, why shouldn’t I?”

She nuzzled Spike, her dark mane tickling the dragon’s cheeks. “Rarity, Twilight, and everypony else- their hourglasses are minuscule compared to yours and mine. But let us appreciate the long day, and,” she added with a gentle smile, “the long night.”

With a start, Luna realized that she had began to cry, drops of moisture seeping from her eyes. “Thank you so much,” Spike whispered. He glanced out the window. The last rays of the sun poked from beneath the clouds. She hugged him goodbye.

The dragon sighed. There was work to be done.

***

It began with a low rumble, as if the sound emanated from the very earth. Ponies glanced around, neighing with surprise. With each successive burst of noise, the sky glowed brighter with patches of brilliant stars. At the thunderous crescendo, an array of white lights streaked through the inky night sky, splaying the field with color.

There was a brief, stunned silence, and all crowd broke into cheers and hurrahs. It was a small gathering- both Rarity and Spike had insisted on restricting the event to friends and family. However, the parapazzi were not deterred, and several pegasi fluttered overhead, snapping shots with concealed cameras.

Groves of apple trees stood in the distance, outlined by the gleaming lights of the wedding party. Applejack had suggested hosting the event in a secluded area of the farm, the land flanked by gently sloping hills and the faint scent of apple blossoms. The ceremony itself was conducted on a raised white dais that seemed to glow with an inner light.

From opposite ends emerged the groom and bride. Exclamations of surprise filtered through the crowd as Rarity gently walked to the center aisle. Her purple mane was done up in loose braids that curled around her shoulders. Tiny red flowers dotted her hair, bright exclamation points that seemed to glow like embers. A simple lace veil obscured her face.

Spike entered, donning a fitted suit and an expression of carefully hidden bliss. The crowd’s muttering had died away, revealing the singing crickets and gentle breeze that lent sound to the night.

It had been thousands of years since Luna had been asked to deliver wedding rites. New couples had began to do away with the tradition all together, believing the entire ceremony to be too elaborate and arcane. But after weeks of insistence from both Spike and Twilight, the princess of the night relented and holed up in her office to study the precious words.

She stood front and center, her starry mane billowing in the night breeze. On her face was an expression of perfect serenity and happiness. With a final flourish of her horn, the moon finally emerged from beyond the dark landscape, glowing in the night sky.

“It is one of life’s richest surprises when the paths of two ponies cross and they proceed together along the common path known as husband and wife.”

Silence from the crowd. Their friends and closest family occupied the front row of seats. Twilight and Fluttershy dabbed their damp eyes. Rainbow Dash yawned, only to receive Applejack’s firm elbow in her ribcage. Pinkie Pie twitched excitedly. The solar princess herself composed herself into an inscrutable expression, a small smile the only hint of emotion on her porcelain face.

“The circle is regarded as symbol of the sun and moon, the cycles both our heavenly and mortal bodies follow. Let the circle become the symbol of your eternal peace and happiness.”

Her horn glowed dimly as a lacquered box levitated to the center of the dais. It opened on a hinge, revealing a ring and a bracelet. Both dragon and unicorn knelt to the ground, eyes downcast.

“Spike and Rarity,” intoned the alicorn. The unicorn lifted her eyes. The bracelet levitated up, revealing itself to the crowd. Fused silver ores had created a striated, shimmering grey piece of jewelry. The dragon rose to his feet. With utmost gentleness, he placed the floating bracelet around Rarity’s hoof. “I love you,” he whispered, eyes shimmering.

Next was a silver ring, created in the same plain, simple style of bracelet. Rarity slipped it over Spike’s, leaning in to brush her lips over his.

“May this day shine eternally. Under the loving gaze of the moon, I wish you long and happy lives.”

The echo of her last words hung in the air. Spike and Rarity held each other’s gaze, eyes burning with tender emotion. They leaned in and kissed.

Like a spell had been broken, the guests erupted into cheers and applause, wiping fat tears from their cheeks. White sheets were lifted off rows of picnic tables, revealing the spectacular feast beneath. Ponies dug in with hoof and tooth, standing in circles and chatting animatedly as course after course was presented. Cider flowed freely throughout the night.

The new couple flitted from table to table, chatting and laughing, always linked in each other’s arms. Each of their friends had insisted on delivering a speech after the meal, though Rainbow Dash’s was cut short after the twelfth toast (“To Celestia’s ever shining flank!”), sparing the inebriated pegasus from more future embarrassment. After the meal, some groups dispersed to talk amongst themselves, the entire orchard lit by hanging lanterns. A renowned string quartet had began to play, but their set was cut short by the pounding bass of an arriving DJ pony. The ensuing musical battle was enough to get everypony on the dance floor.

“Great night, huh?” said Twilight, the faint scent of alcohol lingering on her breath. She tugged at her dress, the fabric moist with sweat.

And Spike couldn’t help but agree.

IV- Honey and Clover

The air was warm and thick in the carriage, redolent of pine needles and sweet perfume. Overhead the moon was slowly setting, Luna’s darkness giving way to a gentle dawn. Beams of sunlight poked through the windows, revealing a dragon and unicorn cuddling on a nest of blankets and pillows.

“Still sleeping?” Spike yawned, but was unable to keep a grin from his face. With a claw he loosened his tie, tossing it to join the growing pile of discarded clothing.

Rarity shifted slightly, her chest pressing against Spike. A low moan, “Not anymore...”

Her makeup was smeared and messy, dark lines streaming from her eyes. The purple mane that had taken so long to perfect for the wedding was now a disheveled nest. Loose strands of hair fell into her face as she finally sat up, rubbing an eye with a hoof. The silver band caught the sunlight, reflecting a bright sheen.

“I guess you still won’t tell me where we’re going?” Rarity asked.

Spike nuzzled her affectionately, his snout caressing the nape of her neck and traveling upward, peppering the shiny, pink scars with little kisses. “You guessed correctly.”

“Hmmph, to treat a lady in such a way.” Rarity pouted, jutting out her lower lip in a way that drove Spike mad. The dragon resisted at first, but she pressed on. Rarity was sure she had gotten him when she started whimperings, but the dragon simply silenced her with another kiss.

***

With a muffled groan, Rarity turned over in bed. She ran a hoof through her mane experimentally, noting the sad condition of her sweat and hairspray caked hair. Her mind reminded her it had been almost 36 hours since she had last showered. Unacceptable.

Now, where was she? Every muscle in her body screamed in protest when she attempted to sit up, untangling himself from a messy cocoon of sheets and blankets. A high wood ceiling arched overhead, reminding her of an elegant hunting lodge. Torches flickered from the walls, adding their light to the mid-morning sun.

Scattered articles of clothing littered the floor, stirring some vague memories in Rarity’s brain. Sunlight filtered in through an open window. She got up, standing unsteadily on her aching legs.

“Spike?” After waiting a moment for a reply, she ventured to a picture window took up half the back wall. It faced outward- the cabin was perched on the edge of a low mountain peak.

The sight took her breath away. From all sides lay a panorama of mountains, grey towers capped with pristine white snow. The sky was a clean light blue, the sun already high in the air. She took a deep breath of fresh cold air.

“Enjoying yourself?” she felt strong arms wrapped around her waist and giggled, batting away the dragon playfully.

“Where are we? This is breathtaking.” A flock of birds danced overhead. Rarity shivered as Spike drew her in closer, tenderly kissing her neck.

“A very special place. You see those mountains?” He pointed to an outcrop in the distance, the rocks darker than the surrounding formations. “It’s called the Heart of Stone. Many years ago, I flew here on a whim, tired of traveling. It took a lot of willpower to finally leave.”

“Like it? Spike, it’s perfect. Come on, let’s see what’s outside.” The unicorn skipped toward the door, all soreness forgotten. Her tangled mane bounced happily on her head. Her silver bracelet caught a ray of sun and Spike smiled.

***

Ahead of them lay grey, snow-capped mountains as far as the eye could see. The landscape was filled with hues of lush greens and yellows as the rocky, barren terrain gave way to low forests and flowering meadows. A nearby stream trickled quietly, attracting birds flocked by the dozen.

Pack light, Spike had insisted. It was only a short day trip. So instead of lugging along three travel bags, he only carried one, the brown satchel trailing behind him like a dog on a leash. A red sunhat was perched jauntily on Rarity’s head, tilted at the perfect angle to catch errant solar rays.

“Wow. This is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it...” gushed the unicorn as they walked hand in hoof down the trail. She didn’t know if Spike had arranged it, but the weather was perfect. The mountains danced with the joy of life itself, and with each step Rarity felt her heart grow lighter.

They stopped wordlessly at a steep decline. Below lay acres upon acres of green meadows and rolling hills, alive with energy. Patches of wildflowers appeared in the most striking of bright reds, blues, and purples. Butterflies of every color flew and danced. The sun beat joyfully overhead.

“Come on, let’s go! We have to visit.” The dragon extended a gentlemanly hoof, dropping to a knee. His back arched invitingly in the air, wings splayed out from each side.

“Are you sure? That seems awfully...” Rarity stole another glance the steepness of the cliff. “Dangerous.”

A small, toothy grin. “Trust me?”

Rarity sighed, shaking her head. Still, she stepped on carefully, straddling the dragon. “Are you sure I’m not too heavy-”

With a beat of his powerful wings, the dragon took to the sky. Rarity began to yelp in surprise, but the noise quickly turned into a light giggle as Spike’s wings caught a gentle draft. It was a short flight- an easy task for the dragon’s powerful physique.

“This must be what paradise looks like.”

They gazed around in awe. The meadow was a like an oasis- a spring of color in an otherwise grey and cold environment. Small rabbits darted about, shrouded by shrubs and flowers. The music of chirping birds and running streams.

Spike turned, gazing tenderly at Rarity. “It is.”

***

The only sound in the room was Twilight’s choked sobs as she threw her forelegs around the dragon. “I-I’ll miss you, Spike.”

The dragon returned the hug, nearly lifting the unicorn off her feet. He finally steeled himself against a torrent of emotion, managing to croak out, “Me too, Twi. I’ll try to write lots.”

They both knew that it was an empty promise. The lands Twilight and Luna were traveling too were far beyond the reaches of post- both physical and magical. Negotiations had broken down with the northern dragon empire, and with tensions rising Celestia had no choice but to request the presence Equestrian diplomat Twilight Sparkle. When the princess signed off on that, there would be no question that Princess Luna would also leave.

The pink banner that hung from the ceiling- HAVE A GOOD TRIP!- seemed gaudy and out of place. Applejack and Rainbow Dash talked in hushed whispers. Princess Luna poured over a massive scroll, checking off boxes with half-hearted energy. Fluttershy and Big Mac loaded the last of the baggage onto a carriage, while Pinkie Pie insisted that everypony, please, have some cake.

Rarity watched Spike and Twilight from a respectful distance, one hoof anxiously fingering her silver wedding band. The scene tore at her heart, and she forced herself to look away, wiping an errant tear.

“So this is really it,” she heard Spike whisper. The dragon was crying freely now, seeming all the more like the helpless child he was so many years ago. His strong body was caved in by sadness. All Twilight could do was stroke his back reassuringly, trying to keep from crying more herself.

“It’s time.” Luna’s voice, soft and boyish, was tinged by uncertainty. When they finally parted, Spike broke down in Rarity’s arms. As the carriage disappeared over the edge of the horizon, Rarity felt a part of her leave with it.

She knew without Twilight, Spike would never be the same. Ponyville was filled with too many memories. As the dragon’s hot tears soaked her coat, she made her decision. It was time for a change of scenery.

***

Rue Equinaise was the premier shopping street of Canterlot. High end boutiques shared space with artisanal craftspony and a vibrant street food culture. Surrounding the stores were low apartments with ivy covered walls and white roofs.

“There!” With a finally clang of a hammer, the board was in place. The sign simply proclaimed Rarity- the seamstresses reputation would do the rest. The modest storefront had a premier location, at the corner of Rue Equinaise and the grounds of the Canterlot Palace. Already ponies were lining up with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, all eyes fixed on the snow white unicorn arranging dresses on mannequins.

Spike stole a glance over at Rarity as they worked, side by side, as they had done in Ponyville so many years ago. The store was filled with a loud din as ponies crowded for space, but Rarity kept up the quiet stream of delightful banter. Music to Spike’s ears.

When they left Ponyville with nothing more than a cart of suitcases, the dragon had his reservations. He voiced them, but the combination of Rarity and his friends had finally convinced him to cut old ties. At the end of the day, unicorn and dragon sat side by side as they wrote letters to each of their companions.

Pinkie Pie and Doctor Whooves, now mayor and mayoress, seemed to be everywhere at once. They were successful business owners and artisans, and on top of that, Pinkie was expecting a pair of twins! Rarity already had the cutest pair of booties stiched.

To their dismay, Applejack and Rainbow Dash’s relationship seemed to have cooled. Dash moved to Manehatten to teach a new generation of Wonderbolts. Applejack stayed put to raise a new generation of crops.

Rarity answered Fluttershy’s letters politely but briefly, as the pegasus seemed to live a stable, happy existence. Sweetie Belle’s letters were returned with more fire, especially once Rarity learned her sister was dating a certain Prince Blueblood II. The fit she had thrown that night was one to behold.

Yet as they wrote by candlelight and exchanged stories and laughter, a Twilight-sized hole in their hearts slowly bled. It had taken Celestia several days of research, but she managed to use her magic and send three heartfelt letters. Weeks later, they all still waited on a reply.

***

Change, Rarity had thought, was always good. It spoke of new challenges and opportunities. It breathed life and color into an otherwise dull existence.

She sat opposite Spike, watching his chest rise and fall with each gentle snore. Light from the fireplace cast moving shadows that danced across the room.

They had just finished their letters- a neat stack of envelopes lay on the table, ready for tomorrow morning’s delivery.

But now, things had become confused. Change was an inevitable conclusion. She realized that there was nothing more she could do.

***

V- Time

Endings and beginnings were the same to Spike, just one part of the seamless flow of time. One accumulates many memories in a life that spans centuries. One becomes strong. But Spike knew his weary feet have seen their last mile.

A dragon does not break down in pieces. It's a quick, swift end, one characterized by a powerful fatigue that tugs at the consciousness, gently guiding the dragon to eternal slumber.

A dragon dies gracefully.

Celestia was by his side until the very end. Her face was an inscrutable mask of patience and composure, but a sad, gentle smile tugged at her lips. Her eyes, deep and calm, were fixed on the mountain of purple scales in front of her.

She, too, had seen many endings. The lives of beloved friends were like hot flashes in a pan, burning out all too quickly. Spike’s passing would mark the end of an era.

"Do you see her?" said Celestia. Her voice echoed off the narrow walls of the cave.

Spike nodded. His eyes were distant and clouded, his mind fixed on a point deep inside his battered skull. They were calling to him. Asking him to leave his world behind.

"Thank you for everything, Celestia," Spike said. When he spoke, the ground rumbled like a distant earthquake. "You gave me everything a dragon could ask for."

"Shh, my little dragon. I am the one should be thanking you. Lay your head down and rest." She planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. "You're a dear friend. You've left your mark on Equestria."

There were a thousand things Spike wanted to say, but that would be wasting time, and he couldn't keep Rarity waiting.

-

"Will you remember me, Spike?" Rarity's voice was very quiet. Her body, a frail jumble of skeleton limbs and loose wrinkles, shivered violently against Spike.

"As long as I bear my scars, Rarity." He had this answer prepared for many months, but now it sounded fake. Hollow. Insincere.

Spike was strong now. A strapping, fine male dragon in the early prime of his life. Barely an adult, really. He shouldn't feel so weak. So powerless.

Spike wanted her friends and family to be here. Her life had touched so many, yet her passing would be recognized by so few. It was unfair.

But it was simply dragon and unicorn, locked in an embrace as a blizzard entertained itself outside. The weather had become volatile since the sudden departure of Equestria's Pegasus-in-Chief.

Some say that Rainbow Dash had died. Spike simply believed she had flown away. East, maybe, to the rising sun.

Spike’s answer seemed to infuse Rarity with life, a spark of energy that had been snuffed out long ago. Her eyes burned with sudden lucidity, a beautiful, brilliant fire. "I could never understand your obsession with scars, Spike.”

"I think it began when- hey!" He jerked suddenly as he felt Rarity's hoof caress the sensitive underside of his arm, where a long, jagged patch of shiny scar tissue snaked down the limb.

Rarity giggled. "This was from that time you tried to fly with me on your back. At the mountains."

"Yeah, last time that's going to happen." Spike felt his voice tighten because of how true his statement was. The memory burned in his mind- the Eternal Mountains, 10th anniversary, nearly a half-century ago.

"Sh, Spike. You think too much." She leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on the nape of his neck.

"I don't think anyone has ever told me that before,” said Spike.

"There's a first for everything," said Rarity quietly.

And a last, thought Spike, but he just hugged her tighter, hoping to protect her fire from the greedy wind.

-

"Oh, oh no. Spike, come here." Rarity's face turned into an ashen pallor. Her eyes were transfixed on the letter levitating in front of her. Her hoofs were firmly planted on the ground, but the world was spinning around her.

Spike recognized Luna's messy horn-writing immediately. It had been two years since they had last received a letter.

Spike & Rarity,

By the time you receive this letter, I believe that several years would have passed. My magic is tapering off. Celestia said she is sending help, and I have faith in my sister.

But it is too late for Twilight Sparkle. I am so sorry. I knew the trip was dangerous. I knew the risks of taking her. It was a noble death, done to protect her friends, but I know that is little consolation to you in Equestria.

In her final moments, she wished for me to extract certain memories. I am not only the princess of the night, but also the mistress of dreams, hope, and fear.

This is her last message, addressed to both of you. Rest assured that I have sent similar letters to the other Elements.

Words cannot express my sorrow and regret.

Luna.

Spike unfurled the creased scroll, releasing a tiny crystal that fell to the ground. Before either unicorn or dragon could react, it exploded into thousands of colors. The air blossomed with magical energy.

The walls of Canterlot Couture fell, replaced by the wood panels of the Ponyville library. The air was thick with the musk of new books.

-

"Come on, Spike! Let's go visit our neighbors," said Twilight, her tail swishing side to side with anticipation. "The Good Neighbor Guide says to make introductions early, and follow up often with social interaction."

"Do I have to?" whined the dragon. "It's so boring here. There's nothing to do."

"Well, you moping all day won't make anything better.”

"Fine." Dragging his heels, the tiny apprentice followed Twilight into the sunny streets of Ponyville.

Their first stop was the Carousel Boutique. It was hard to miss- a grand, ornate structure with pristine columns and a well manicured garden.

Twilight rapped on the door twice, a cheery smile on her face. Spike trailed behind her, attempting to make himself as small as possible.

A snow white unicorn opened the door, a sewing needle and thread hovering in the air beside her. "Oh, hello! You must be Twilight Sparkle! My name is Rarity. Do come in!..."

Rarity's voice seemed very distant. Spike's eyes widened. Her flawless skin, her graceful smile, her lithe body- she was a goddess!

Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it was a childhood crush. But at that moment, Spike knew they were meant to be.

-

The end.

Prologue- Little Scars

Little Scars, a FiM Fanfiction
by takeflight

Chapter One

If being friends with six mares taught Spike anything, it was listening skills. Even Fluttershy could be quite the talker, given the right subject and a pair of willing ears.

During slow days at the Carousel Boutique, Rarity kept up a constant stream of chatter as she measured fabrics and stitched dresses. Spike would listen thoughtfully, perking up with the occasional word or consenting murmur as he worked alongside her. The work day flashed by quickly, and Rarity would usually treat him to a home-cooked meal or snack before she bade her helper goodnight.

The day had been especially pleasant. Light rays of sun had finally began to warm Ponyville after a cruel winter, drawing ponies out into the streets. The Boutique was busy, but Rarity managed to keep up, enlightening Spike on the fashion trends and her latest shopping find while she cheerfully worked through the deluge of orders.

Twilight had been spending more and more time in Canterlot, increasing the intensity of her magical studies. Spike couldn’t help feel a twinge of guilt whenever Twilight kissed him on the forehead and wished him a fond farewell. Every time the unicorn stepped outside into the awaiting carriage, it would mean precious hours and days in Rarity’s company.

This gnawed at the dragon for some time. After Twilight’s departures became frequent, the guilt died down to a dull emotional ache, to finally nothing at all. How quickly we forget old routines, thought Spike.

In dragon years, Spike was an adolescent. He had grown considerably after several growth spurts, his body becoming lithe and muscular. However, his personality remained sweet and caring and his friends still saw the baby dragon that spent days in the library.

“Come, dear Spike, let’s get this mess cleaned up."

Spike obediently followed, lifting heavy boxes like toys. The room was scattered with debris- odd snippets of yarn, the forgotten receipt, irregular patches of fabric. All signs of a successful workday. Sighing, Spike set down the last box and plopped down in front of a roaring fire place. The sun had long since set, bathing the interior of the store with the glow of a full moon.

Rarity’s home was simple and elegant- plenty of solid colors and functional pieces of furniture. All the hallways led to a central living room dominated by a towering stone fireplace. Spike expected nothing less from his glamorous friend, and thought of the boutique as a second home of sorts.

She lived alone. Sweetie Belle had moved out some time ago, traveling to Manehattan to continue her studying Equestrian history under. She had been the first Cutie Mark Crusader to leave, and, like Twilight, her absence was sorely felt throughout the community.

To Spike's dismay, the three friends had slowly drifted apart. It pained him. Apple Bloom was content to sit among the family orchards and paint, the artistic pride of the family of farmers. Scootaloo spent most of the day training with Rainbow Dash, the star flier’s personal protege. Spike had long since suspected they had more than a teacher-student relationship, but Dash’s friends were too polite, or maybe embarrassed, to breech the subject.

Spike ran his claw through the plush carpet, stretching out in front of the fire and resisting the urge to close his heavy eyelids. The warmth and quiet of the room was inviting after a day of hefting objects and fetching items for the overworked seamstress.

“I am absolutely exhausted,” said Rarity as she plopped to the floor beside the dragon. Spike grunted in agreement, rolling over.

If anything, Rarity had become more beautiful with the passing of several years. To her dismay, her mane had begun to show strands of white and grey. She blamed her parents and poor genetics, and hid from public for three days until Twilight found a spell to color her mane.

She look off her reading glasses and placed her head on her hooves, looking over the young the dragon.

“Do you miss her?”

“Huh?” Spike shook his head, trying not to drift to sleep on the warm rug.

“Twilight. I’ve heard she’s going to be gone for a while.”

Spike sighed. Rarity was right- it had been two weeks. Although Twilight wrote to him every day, he felt himself drifting farther away from his best friend and mother. Winter Wrap Up was in a week, and Spike had fervently hoped Twilight come back to Ponyville and join the festivities.

Earlier that morning, he received a letter that quashed his hopes. Twilight and Celestia had “urgent matters” to attend to, extending the duration of her stay to several months. She was surprisingly vague and detached, yet concluded with several heartfelt apologies.

“I do,” he answered softly, looking into the depths of the fireplace. The fire was maintained by magic, although Rarity had thrown in wood to produce an authentic feel. Sparks danced merrily, casting off a warm glow. “I still can’t get used to living alone.”

Rarity nodded sadly, knowing the pain all to well.The times she had stumbled into Sweetie Belle’s room to wake her, only stare at a dusty, unused bed. “Things change,” she murmured, glancing at the forlorn dragon. She reached out and patted him on his scaly arm.

“Oh, what’s this?” she asked. Her hoof ran over a shiny, knotted scar that branched down his forearm. Most of the scales had grown back in a lighter shade of purple. In daylight, the wound was almost imperceptible.

The dragon snorted with laughter. “One of Twilight’s experiments gone awry. It was the last time I let her take my blood.”

Rarity’s eyes widened. “You mean she caused that-”she whispered, horrified.

“Well, she might the scientist, but I’m not letting her around a needle ever again.” Spike rolled over, playfully poking Rarity in the cheek. “I’m sure a mare as fashionable as you would never have such an unsightly thing.”

The mare batted away Spike’s paw. “With a bit of makeup and magic, anything is possible.” She leaned over, grasping the dragon’s arm and inspecting the blemish more carefully, as if it was a poorly sewn seem. “I could fix this right up for you, dear,” she mused, her horn glowing dimly as she tried to remember the correct spell.

Spike withdrew his arm. “Nope.”

“Why?”

He hesitated for a beat, a claw absentmindedly caressing the scar. When he spoke, his words were deliberate and thoughful“It’s almost like a memory to me. A memory that I wear.”

Rarity giggled, but sensing the seriousness in Spike’s eyes, she added in a more somber tone, “I don’t understand. Our memories are in our heads and our hearts. No need to carry such...physical imperfections.” She tossed back her mane gently and leaned her head on her hooves.

A soft rain had began to lightly fall outside, pattering on the windows. Thunder rumbled in the distance, almost inperceptible, warning of a coming spring thunderstorm.

Spike shrugged, shifting closer toward Rarity. “It keeps me connected. Memories can fade,” he gestured toward the mark, “but scars remain. Even the bad memories are worth keeping, don’t you think?” The gravity of his words betrayed his youth, and the dragon suddenly felt self-conscious, curling his tail around his legs.

Rarity leaned back in thought, puzzlement flashing in her eyes as she pondered Spike’s statement. “But, it’s so unfabulous,” she giggled in a caricature of her own affected accent. Spike laughed, rolling over and gently lifting Rarity’s arm.

“I bet if I look hard enough, I’ll find something,” said Spike, carefully running his claw down her snow white fur. It was immaculately maintained, the product of washing, cleaning, and painstaking grooming.

She withdrew, blushing lightly. “Oh Spike, it’s so ungentlemanly. Asking a lady to see her scars.”

Spike ignored her, leaning over her and scanning her back with his sharp vision. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of vanilla, expensive perfume, a deeper aroma that was uniquely Rarity.

“Aha!” he suddenly exclaimed. Rarity cocked her head toward the dragon. “There’s one,” he said proudly, gently pressing on a minuscule blemish.With utmost care, the dragon parted Rarity’s thin coat, revealing a tiny knob of scarred flesh.

“Hey!” Rarity squeaked, bopping Spike on the nose.

The dragon withdrew rubbing his snout, but victorious smile dancing across his lips. “I found one,” he proclaimed triumphantly.

The mare leaned over, examining the tiny remains of a previous wound. “Ah, I remember where I got this,” she said softly, her voice suddenly dropping.

Spike was silent, he gently lifted Rarity’s check and gazed into her eyes before giving her a quick nuzzle.

“The first time I had tried sewing, I picked up a needle with magic,” she burst out into laughter, taking the dragon by surprise with her sudden mirth. “Oh, it’s so ridiculous.”

Spike smiled, a full grin that pulled at the corners of his eyes. How much he has grown, thought Rarity. “Let me guess- you stabbed yourself,” the dragon added.

Rarity nodded, her eyes briefly flashing with nostalgia. “It went in pretty deep. I cried for two hours, and was afraid of getting a shot from the doctor for the next few years.” She snuggled in closer to the dragon, allowing Spike to continue to gently caress her fur.

“So, pretty boring, huh?” teased Rarity. “Not exactly something worth remembering.I haven’t thought about that for years, since I was a little filly.”

Spike leaned in to Rarity’s mane, breathing in her scent again. “No. See, now you remember,” he whispered softly.

“Well, thanks to you I now remember the most embarrassing incident of my childhood. Thank you, scar.”

Spike’s eyes followed Rarity’s hair as it cascaded down her back to her gentle, shapely thighs. “What’s this?” he murmured absently, brushing over a small discolored patch of fur. It was almost invisible.

Rarity stiffened, and Spike drew back, apologizing. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you th-”

The mare shook her head. “Silly, it’s not that. You’ve managed to find...a minor injury,” she said absently, examining the scar like it was an old enemy.

Spike frowned. “Somepony hurt you?” He couldn’t wrap his mind around the concept.

The mare shook her head, looking up at Spike’s worried expression. So strong, brave, willing to protect to his friends. “Oh Spike, I’m sure you remember Discord.”

The dragon’s eyes briefly flashed with hatred at the mention of the chaos spirit. She calmly patted him on the his hand. “His...magic?” he finally spat out through clenched teeth. Being turned to a stone statue was too kind a punishment for the villain.

Rarity nodded, sadness flashing across her eyes. She looked away, staring back toward the fire. “Little things, don’t worry,” she said, as though we was comforting herself.

“Does it hurt?” The dragon reached out, touching the discoloration. The unicorn attempted to conceal a wince, although Spike saw the brief pain that crossed her face. In a worried tone, he added, “That should be treated. It’s not normal.” He made the motion to stand up. “If I write to Twilight I’m sur-”

Rarity shushed him with a hoof over his lips, pulling him closer. “A few years ago I tried. I noticed it right after the last fight. The other Element’s had born the mark also?”

Spike allowed himself to be pulled into the unicorns embrace. “Had?”

The mare sighed sadly, resting her head on a cushion. Several minutes passed, both dragon and mare locked in their own thoughts. Finally, Rarity opened her mouth. “Remember my corruption?”

Spike nodded. Memories of an afflicted Rarity came back to him, her natural generosity perverted by Discord’s magic. She had been embarrassed beyond speaking after the incident, and none of her friends brought it up again.

“Twilight and I traveled to Canterlot. We learned that some magic,” she paused, searching for the word, “lingers.”

“Can’t be true. He’s gone now, right?” Spike gently nuzzled Rarity’s cheek, but the mare looked away.

“My greed...” she murmured quietly. Her eyes had begun to sting and she shut them, tucking in closer to the warm dragon.

Spike frowned. “You’re the most generous pony I’ve ever met. In all of Equestria maybe,” he whispered, pulling Rarity closer, ensconcing her in a tight, warm embrace. Oh, how many times I’ve dreamed of doing this.

She paused before speaking, choking on her words as they spilled out of her mouth. “There are other types of greed,” she said sadly, unable to turn to face her dragon.

“Doesn’t matter. I think I know what it is.” Spike gently kissed the back of Rarity’s head, pulling her into a warm embrace. “It’s about me,” he finally said. His tone was soft, quiet, mature beyond his years.

Rarity blinked. A tear slowly rolled down her face, but Spike brushed it off, as lightly as a feather. He had matured so much, thought Rarity. An adult now. An equal. “Spike,” she answered, “I was greedy for you.”

The dragon opened his mouth again, but Rarity leaned in, shushing him. “Please, let me finish.” Another tear, but this time Rarity quickly brushed it off.

“I still can’t forgive myself for how I treated you a child,” the unicorn sighed. “I wanted attention, undivided and whole. You gave me that. I loved your affection, even if I didn’t share it at the time.” She flashed Spike a watery half-smile before continuing. “And-”

This time the dragon silenced the mare. Spike leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Rarity’s. He surprised himself by his boldness, but to his delight, Rarity only deepened the kiss, wrapping her hooves around his chest.

Spike suddenly wished he was a unicorn, able to stop time and preserve this beautiful moment. Every sense came alive- Rarity’s perfume, her soft mane and supple curves, her lidded eyes, clouded with love and emotion indescribable.

After they broke, a blush bloomed across Spike’s face. Rarity grinned playfully.

“That was a good response,” she noted, catching her breath.

“I don’t think I need a scar to remember this,” said Spike, muzzling the unicorn. She giggled and rolled over, exposing her smooth white underbelly.

"I’m quite memorable,” she purred. She pulled the dragon in closer, “Now, where were we?”

Author's notes:

Thanks to Doom_Pie for excellent pre-reading and editing.

Author's Note

It’s been nearly half a year since I wrote the first chapter of Little Scars.

I didn’t know where I was going to go with the story, but over time things became very clear.

I'm not terribly pleased with my writing in this story. The pacing is wonky, and occasionally my writing style becomes inconsistent. Constantly improving is always my goal.

I contemplated revising previous chapters before releasing the finale. However, it’s pretty neat seeing how my writing changed over the months, so I’ll leave it as it is.

Thanks to pre-readers, watchers, commenters, and readers! All writers are attention seekers at heart, and you guys keep me going.

-

Those watching may notice I’ve released another story titled Impermanence a few days ago.

Those watching carefully may notice that some details bear resemblance to Little Scars. In fact, it’s Twilight and Luna’s half of the story, and if you’re interested I hope you enjoy.

I won’t acknowledge the tie-in to Little Scars until it’s completed. It’ll be a secret between us.