To Sleep, Perchance To Dream
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“And you’re positive that you’ll be alright here by yourself?” the newly coroneted Twilight Sparkle asked, ruffling her wings uncomfortably. They were still such a pain to deal with; she’d gained yet another measure of respect for the Pegasi that managed to handle wings so naturally.
“Of course I will, Twilight-“ Spike reassured her, patting her kindly on the back. “-I can take care of myself. Besides, you’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, right? It’s just like taking care of those pets; just, you know…” the little dragon rubbed the back of his head contemplatively, frowning. “Without the pets.” Even Owlicious hadn’t come back yet.
Twilight sighed heavily, thinking. His wide, pleading eyes met her own in an attempt to instill some form of indication that he was indeed capable of caring for himself.
“If you insist, Spike. I trust you to take care of yourself while I’m gone on business.” She nodded, using one wing to awkwardly pull him into a close hug. “I won’t be gone too long, okay?” Twilight said quietly, breaking away from him.
“You’d better hurry up, or you’re going to be late; punctuality and all that, right?” Spike grinned, pointing behind her at the awaiting chariot, heralded by a small fleet of Celestia’s royal guards.
Twilight smiled at him as she clambered aboard the golden gilded chariot, and waved. “Behave yourself, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Spike shooed her off as he beamed back at her, a twang of sadness growing as he watched her leave. “Have fun.”
He stood in the doorway, watching them fly away.
“… Without me...”
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“Er… excuse me?” Twilight asked one of her winged escorts, considering that she’d had little to no practice flying on her own since she’d gained her strange new appendages. She gazed down at the ground beneath them as they sped forward at an impressive pace.
“Would you mind terribly, er… stopping, I mean? A… quick break just down there, maybe? I have… something I’d like to tend to first.”
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Spike watched the rain pitter and patter against the cold ground outside, large and fat droplets heavy with the day’s moisture beginning to splatter against the cold, unfeeling ground in a hypnotically rhythmic drumbeat. Roiling, fat black clouds, pregnant with the possibility of potentially heavier downpour plodded perilously above.
In effect, it looked positively dreary.
The little dragon exhaled mightily through his nostrils, fogging the glass slightly as he slumped away.
There was simply nothing left for him to do.
He’d done it all. Restocked the quills and ink. Shelved everything on the bookshelf twice. His endless pacing around the library was beginning to wear a pattern in the polished oak wood floor, leaving an endless circle similar to his thoughts.
Over and over… Spike thought glumly. He tried slugging off his melancholy, but it clung to him with a vigorous enthusiasm.
“… Cocoa.” Spike snapped his claws together with a loud click! as his tiny feet carried him quietly into the kitchen. Cocoa was just what he needed at a time like this. Especially at a time like this. Cold, rainy day, Twilight gone, and all alone. Again. Some nice cocoa was just precisely what he desired to stave off his pensive contemplations.
The chocolate brown liquid boiled cheerfully beneath the guidance of his wooden spoon as he slowly heated it, the oven top providing plenty of warmth. Even when he’d gathered his cocoa and made himself comfortable at the kitchen table, he still couldn’t properly enjoy it.
The striped violet mug opposite him sat steaming silently, the empty chair behind it staring forlornly back at him.
It took Spike a full beat to realize that he’d made an extra cup for Twilight.
He scowled into his own murky reflection, watching as his angry frown gradually melted into an unsatisfied miserable mope.
“Pffft.” He blew a raspberry, downing the rest of his cocoa. “Who needs ya’.”
The familiar and rapid tunk tunk tunk tunk of a pony’s hoof slapped against the door unobtrusively, echoing through the nearly-empty library with ease.
In dim surprise, Spike leapt up from his reverie and plodded toward the wooden door, ready to tell off the unfortunate visitor who obviously couldn’t read the ‘Closed’ sign hanging in the window. Spike peeled the door open a crack, glaring outside into the broiling storm.
“Cripes, why do you keep coming to a library if you can’t re- RARITY!”
Spike gawked at the bedraggled and soaked unicorn, a small parasol nearly blown completely inside out as she magicked it close to her head. Rivets of water dripped down her mane and pooled into a whirling wash before her, and there wasn’t a hair on her that wasn’t desperately clinging to her body.
“G-g-go-good- good eve-even-evening, Sp-S-S-Spike.”
Rarity spoke with an even, calm tone, despite the fact that she was evidently freezing. Spike nearly heaved the creaky door off its rusty iron hinges, ushering Rarity inside with haste. She trembled violently, yet still managed to retain enough composure to turn her small umbrella right-side out and prop it neatly inside the umbrella stand beside the door.
“Geez, Rarity, why didn’t you say something?” Spike asked, perplexed, shutting the door behind her as she shivered, shaking off bloated droplets of rain. The floor had swiftly grown slick with the liquid coating, which Spike noticed with some disdain. He had just finished cleaning in here, after all.
Such thoughts were abruptly pushed out of his head by present company.
“I’m terribly sorry to intrude, dear-“ Rarity began, attempting to wring some measure of moistness from her unkempt mane. She gracefully tugged and pleaded it back into its usual springy stance, leaving Spike once again bewildered at how she managed to do so.
“Bwah, don’t worry about it.” Spike cut her off, shepherding her toward the kitchen. “You’re just in time for cocoa; nice n’ hot.”
Rarity eyed the striped purple mug on the table, still steaming.
… Did he already know…?
“Actually, Spike…” Rarity began uncomfortably. “… I… Well, we should talk.”
“You know... I agree, one hundred percent.” Spike nodded promptly, pouring himself another cup of cocoa and sitting across from her. His little claws drummed repeatedly across the sides of his own mug, rapping a tuneless song as he drank deeply from it.
Rarity took in a deep breath, steeling herself for what she’d practiced the entire way over; the main reason she’d been caught so easily in the rain. Heck, her mind had been preoccupied with it for the past several weeks.
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Rarity’s mug clanked against the wooden table in her surprise. She hadn’t expected Spike to say anything of the sort.
“I-I-I don’t… whatever makes you say that, dear?” the unicorn inquired in befuddlement, regaining her composure quickly. At first, Spike didn’t respond. He merely stared into his (now empty) cup of cocoa, swirling around the dregs in a little circle.
Over and over.
“… Look, Rarity…” Spike iterated slowly, obviously having difficulty expressing himself. “… I’ve… been doing some thinking.”
“Spike, dear…” -Rarity stuttered quickly- “I don’t know whether Twilight put you up to-“
“Twilight didn’t put me up to anything. I can make my own decisions.” Spike stated calmly, looking up from his empty mug. He unhurriedly sauntered out of the kitchen, and a baffled Rarity followed in hot pursuit. However, the miniature drake merely took up residence on the small sofa. Spike patted the cushion beside him, gesturing for Rarity to join him beside the window.
Curious and a little worried, Rarity silently sidled up next to him. The rain beat against the glass window with fury, slamming into the side of the building with a vicious intensity that made Rarity quite glad she hadn’t wasted much time in making the trek to the library.
“… I think it’s high time I find out what this is all about.” Rarity said softly, and was a bit concerned when Spike wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Rarity…” for a moment, he choked; Spike quickly cleared his throat and continued, though. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”
Regardless of the fact that he’d basically repeated himself, Rarity nodded silently, awaiting his explanation.
“Well… I mean, ever since Twi and the incident with Starswirl the Bearded’s spell, the whole ‘princess’ thing, I… I’ve been thinking.”
She desperately wanted to interrupt and hurry him to his point, but the little dragon looked like he was having a difficult enough time as it was. Rarity bit her tongue unwillingly.
Spike took another deep breath, and looked hard at her before saying “L-look. You’re a pony.”
“Yes, so I noticed.” She replied automatically, bringing a small smile to his face. It was full of melancholy, unfortunately.
“… You’re a pony, and… and I’m a dragon.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean-“
“Do you know how old Princess Celestia is?” Spike asked suddenly, turning away from her again. He watched the rain splatter against the window, rivers of rain cascading down the cold glass.
Wary of being interrupted again, Rarity said nothing.
“… She’s old, Rarity. Thousands of years old. And now, Twilight is going to be just like her.”
Rarity suddenly gained a good idea of where their conversation was going.
“Yes, darling – but I thought you’d be thrilled at that kind of development?” she watched him closely, only to discover that he’d become even more miserable.
“Why would that make me happy?” he grumbled, kicking his legs a little off the edge of the sofa in disdain.
“Well, I could imagine just how long a dragon’s already incredible lifespan is-“
“I know, Rarity.” Spike whispered, and he tried to imagine that his voice wasn’t really beginning to crack. “Believe me; I know. I’m probably gonna live for a long, long time.”
“So, why-?”
“How long does the average pony live for?”
Rarity could have sworn she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.
“Now, Spike-“ and, once again, Spike interrupted.
“No, Rarity.” He shook his head violently, his little brightly colored frills flapping back and forth. “I have to do the grown up thing. Not later, right now. I’m-I’m going to have a long life. I can’t…. I can’t really afford to… t-to… to lo-“
“To lose somepony you love dearly?” Rarity guessed softly, and carefully pulled him into a tender hug. She patted the back of his head gently, but he gave no response.
“... I-I just... can’t, Rarity.”
It hurt her more than she pictured it would, the sound of his voice. She’d expected him to cry, to shout, to deny that anything bad could ever happen; instead, Spike simply faced it all head on. True, his voice trembled frequently, but he pushed onward.
“I know I won’t be able to. To lose somepony close to me, I mean.” Spike tried in vain to clear his throat, but didn’t pull away from her. “B-be-because it’ll never happen just… just the once. It’ll keep happening, Rarity. I’ll get stupid, and fall in love with somepony; somepony that reminds me of you, maybe. And then there’ll be nothing that I can do to change anything. I’ll be al-alone… again, an-and I- and-and I-“
At this point, it was taking absolutely everything Rarity had not to start blubbering just as he was. Instead, she pulled him closer to shush him, nuzzling against his cheek.
“I… see.” She said simply, keeping her own voice in check.
“I’m sorry.” Spike sniffled pitifully. “I… I just-“
“Have perfectly reasonable doubts and worries about the future.” Rarity finished for him. “Darling…” she started after a while, cupping his little cheeks in her hooves lovingly. “… My little Spikey-Wikey. The future is a long, long time away. I can empathize with your fears, dear – don’t come to the conclusion that you’re the only one that’s considered the implications of… extended lifespans.”
Spike had been thoroughly unprepared for Rarity’s outburst, but she plowed onward; never dropping her gaze, never letting him go.
“It’s simply a fact of life, Spike; nopony ever really lives forever. Instead of dreading an inescapable future, you should cherish the ones you love here and now.”
“Well… geez.” Spike rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, ignoring the itching in his eyes. “That was… kind of... grim.”
“Not at all, Spike.” Rarity disagreed, shaking her head. “Completely disregard any notions you might have had about life being short. Life, whether for a regular pony, a princess, or even a dragon-“ she winked at him kindly “-is long. Life is long, Spike; especially if you have a life of regret.”
“… Do you… regret… me?” Spike asked fretfully, beginning to pull at his frills in agitation.
“Of course not, dear.” She said soothingly. She could have sworn the rain was coming down even harder than it was before. “Spike, it’s little moments that I get to spend with you that I look forward to.” Rarity giggled a little, patting him on the head. “When Sweetie Belle is with the folks, in between my profession and even on days like this,” she exclaimed, waving a hoof lightly toward the window. “I’m glad you bring a little sunshine to my day, Spike. Something to look forward to, somepony I can depend on. No, Spike – I have no regrets.”
And she said it with such warmth and compassion that Spike really couldn’t refute it when she hugged him all the harder.
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They spent the day together, just like that; albeit, with much lighter conversation and the occasional batch of cocoa. Spike was all too eager to display just how well dragon-fire could heat a mug.
Spike wanted to cling to what Rarity had tried to instill in him; that life was much longer than it seemed. But really, it felt like the entire day flew by. They hardly noticed when it stopped raining, barely recognized the shadows slipping tenderly down the wall as the sun began to set. They sat on the sofa next to each other, gossiping the day away. He cherished every moment of it.
It only served to remind him that it would all be gone someday.
He almost didn’t notice that Rarity had stopped responding to him by the time the sun had set; only a couple of soft snores alerted him that he’d been rambling on about some wild dream involving taxidermy for too long. The last remaining flickering rays of Celestia’s sun filtered in through the window, settling gently across her equine features. At a certain angle, even her mane shimmered a little. Spike felt like his heart was going to burst out of his ribcage to escape the ache.
“Hey.” He said, shaking her gently. “Rares. Sun’s going down.”
“Hm?” Rarity blearily peered upwards at Spike, berating herself for falling asleep. Thin sleep lines that had pushed themselves onto one side of her face where she’d embraced slumber belied her eagerness to return to blissful rest.
“It’s almost nighttime, Rarity.” Spike proclaimed a little forcefully. The sooner he managed to get her out of the library, then maybe he’d have less time to think about anything; less time to ponder sleeplessly. Again.
“So it is.” Rarity observed quietly.
“… Aren’t… aren’t you going home?” the lilac dragon interrogated a little fearfully. If she wanted to talk more, he wouldn’t turn her away; but it was sure to bring back that heartache that he’d spent all day pushing away. Spike was beginning to sympathize with Rarity’s need for sleep; strange how relieving one’s self of emotional baggage tended to take so much out of you, really.
“Well…” the porcelain unicorn replied, clearing her throat. “I was… thinking.”
Seems to be an awful lot of that going around lately, Spike thought wearily, but didn’t interrupt this time.
“I – well, I mean, I – this is a bit more diffic- would you mind terribly were I to spend the night?”
Her request actually managed to catch him off guard; she seemed to be surprising him quite frequently today. Spike’s heart raced all the faster.
“W-what makes you ask that?”
“I… spend a lot of time alone, Spike.” Rarity confessed tiredly, her head dipping slightly. “I have nopony to go home to tonight, and Twilight won’t be home until tomorrow evening – I was just wondering if maybe you were a little lo-“
“Of course you can stay!” Spike exclaimed enthusiastically, hugging her tightly. “There’s always room for you here – you’re my friend, Rarity. Twilight even has an empty bed.”
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Twilight always prided herself on keeping a straight and clean bed.
Neat little sheets, tucked accurately into the sides. Prim puffed pillows positively prodded to perfection, pushed with pinpoint accuracy into position. The bed itself was of sturdy wooden material, with a soft straw mattress and down comforters to die for; it was the image of coziness to a tired mare.
As to precisely why Rarity chose to sleep next to him in the basket, he still wonders to this very day. Regardless, it seemed what Rarity told him was quite true – regret will make one’s life seem much longer.
And, as he blinked in surprise when she snuggled against him warmly in her sleep, Spike smiled as he found that for once, he had absolutely no regrets.
Author's Note
This story was written for all of the people out there who just really like Spike and Rarity.
That, and this is a sort of... make-up for the ABOMINATION that is 'A Present For Spikey Wikey'.
Seriously, you guys; I really am sorry about that.
But aside from that, what did you guys/gals think of the story? Was it what you were expecting? Was it fantastic? Was it ludicrously cheesy or 'daaaaw' inspiring? Was it an awesome-splosion-geddon-nado?
How did YOU personally feel about the story? Let everyone know below!
