Little Dreamer Marigold

by sgtblaino

Rating: everyone
Tags: Spike, Tragedy, Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Sad, Nightmare Moon, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1379

After discovering a old yearbook, Twilight shares to Spike her first true friend: Marigold.

It's a bright, sunny day, perfect for reorganizing the library! But during the task, Spike uncovers a yearbook from Twilight's time in the School for Gifted Unicorns, and learns of her first true friend: Marigold. Twilight decides that it's time to share her story of her first friendship, of how Marigold opened Twilight's eyes to the unimaginable, and of the tragedy that would push the filly duo far past what either could ever imagine.

Published 2012-02-26 07:04:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-02-26 07:04:02 UTC

Memories of an Old Friend

“You ready Spike?”

“Yup. All set Twilight!”

“New quill?”

“Yes Twilight.”

“Ink?”

“Yeeees Twilight.”

“Checkli-?”

“Yes, yes! Everything’s all set Twilight!”

She chuckled to herself. “Alright Spike, I trust you. Now let’s get this started!”

In an instant the hundreds of books around the duo came to life as Twilight sorted them into stacks by letter and category. The smell of fresh paper and ink quickly filled the air and mixed with the summer breeze blowing in through the windows. It was a new, bright day, and a perfect one at that to check and rearrange the books in the library. Well, at least for Twilight it was.

“Why are we doing this anyway, Twilight?” Spike moaned, checking off “Spices of Everfree” from the list. “You always keep track of what books you take out and shelve.”

“Yes, but everypony isn’t perfect. Plus it’s been a while since we last reorganized the library.”

“You mean a week?”

Twilight tossed a book toward Spike, knocking him back on his tail.

“Alright! I’ll stop complaining.”

Rubbing his head, Spike set down the copy of “Peromyscus Eremicus” and checked it off from the list. Even though Spike didn’t care for busy work like reorganizing the library, he was fantastic at it. After years of being Twilight’s assistant he had memorized almost every book she owned. Need a cookbook for some sweet-tasting drinks? “Miss Cider’s Bodacious Beverages” has some great ideas. How about a quick cure for a head-cold? “21 Cures for the Common Cold” will have you feeling better in no time. A fan of Mysterious Mare’s mysteries? “The Legend of Silver Inn” should fit you nicely. In only half an hour, Spike had pushed through almost two-hundred books.

“‘Astronomer’s Atlas,’ check. ‘History of Canterlot,’ check.”

“How are you doing Spike?” Twilight asked him, shelving a stack of checked books.

“Doing well!” he responded. “Just a few dozen le…huh?”

He took a closer look at the wooden-covered hardback in front of him, squinting at the worn-out words adorning the cover.

“’School for Gifted Unicorns: Class of the Griffons?’” he whispered to himself. “I haven’t seen this before.”

He glanced back at Twilight. She was neck deep sifting through the towers of books around her.

“She won’t care if I take a break. Just for a minute.”

Quickly and quietly, he opened up the hardcover and shuffled through the pages, taking quick glances as he went along. He saw pictures of little fillies learning in school, of a field trip to Hoofington, of sport teams and clubs and of all the faculty, staff and students who attended SGU that year. Curiously, Spike searched for Twilight among the hundreds of photos. He checked club photos that he thought she may’ve been a part of: Chess club, Readers club, Honors society. In each one she was off in some corner, reading away apart from the others. He checked spirit week photos, and pictures of activities the school had done, but it was the same story. In every photo, Twilight was alone.

“Except for this one,” he told himself.

In front of him was a picture of Twilight and another filly who had a bright red body and a golden-yellow mane and tail. Her cutie mark was a dove colored like her mane, and she wore an amber ribbon similar to the one Appleboom wore. Someone had signed underneath the picture.

“’Your best friend,-“

“’Marigold,’” Twilight finished.

Spike jumped, dropping the wooden book to the floor.

“Twilight! I-I was just, I, hadn’t seen this book before and-“

“Don’t worry Spike,” Twilight interrupted, smiling as she did. “It’s fine.”

Twilight picked up the book from the ground and shelved it away where it belonged. Without another word spoken she turned back to the stacks of literature yet to be organized, and continued her work. But she was going slower now, distracted from the task at hand.

“Are you okay Twilight?” Spike asked.

“Yes, I’m fine Spike. Just get back to the checklist.” She motioned over to his set of books.

“You don’t sound too fine,” he replied, turning back toward his work.

“I’ll be alright Spike.”

Twilight continued pushing through what books were left. But with each one her pace slowed until it was taking her an entire minute just to check off a book. Eventually she stopped altogether.

“Alright Twilight. I’m all se…Twilight?”

She didn’t respond; her focus was somewhere else. By now she was sitting, her front legs shaking, her breathing growing heavy. She sniffed, causing a tear to fall and strike the wooden floor beneath her hooves.

And in a weak, broken voice she spoke, “Marigold…”

“Twilight!” Spike shouted, running toward the distraught pony. He quickly put his arms around Twilight and hugged her tight, not letting go for anything in the world. There’s something so comforting with a hug that can break through any barriers you’ve built up, and causes you to let forth whatever feelings you’ve been keeping bottled up inside. And that’s exactly what Twilight did.

She cried on Spike’s shoulder as she did her best to keep her hooves around him, but they were shaking more so than before. Her breathing was staggered, broken by gasps for breath in between sobs. Spike even began to well up, but he held strong for Twilight.

“It’s alright, Twilight,” Spike reassured her. “Everything will be alright.”

After a few minutes the tears stopped and her shaking died down. She let go of Spike, smiling as she did so.

“Thank you, Spike.”

“Anytime,” Spike replied. “So, what’s been bothering you so much?”

Twilight took a deep breath, thinking over what to say next. “...Memories of an old friend. The one in the picture you were looking at.”

“You mean-?”

“Yes, Marigold.” Her smile disappeared as she spoke her name.

“Who was she?” Spike asked cautiously. He didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was.

“A filly in my class when I was enrolled in the School for Gifted Unicorns.” Twilight paused for a moment. “She transferred in about halfway through the semester.”

“How come you’ve kept this bottled up inside for so long?”

Again Twilight took a slow, deep breath; she was pulling back years of stored-away memories.

“You know you don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to-“

“No, Spike,” she interrupted, turning toward the baby dragon. “You deserve to know. And I’ve been needing to share this with someone for a long time.”

“Thank you, Twilight,” he responded, smiling as he did so.

Twilight couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’m sorry I never told you sooner, Spike; I keep forgetting what great friends I have now.”

“It didn’t seem like you had all that many in the other photos,” Spike replied.

She nodded. “I didn’t have any until I met Marigold.”

“What was she like?”

“She was, unique, to say the least.” Twilight laughed for a moment. “A Manehattian with enough personality to drive you up a wall. But… she was much more than just that.”

Twilight stood up, and walked toward the window.

“Come over here, Spike.”

Confused, Spike nodded, stepping over to Twilight’s side.

“See those clouds up there?”

“Yeah?” Spike replied sarcastically.

“Think you could go grab me a piece of one?”

For a moment he didn’t say anything. He even began to laugh, but saw that she was serious.

“But, how? I don’t have any wings, or Pinkie’s hot air balloon. And clouds are just made of water: I’d just get wet if I tried to grab one. It’s impossible!”

Twilight simply laughed. “Not to Marigold, it wasn’t. To her, nothing was impossible.”

She looked back outside, and for a moment watched the clouds float by above Ponyville. She then closed her eyes and imagined that she was above the snow-white cumuli, walking across what looked so soft and inviting your body’s muscles relax and your heart slows its pace. She could feel the sun warm her core, the fresh air rush by and swirl all around her, the cotton-cashmere floor beneath her hooves. Her senses were awake, embracing the world she had crafted. And not a moment later she opened her eyes, and her dream faded away.

“Even if the odds always seemed stacked against her.”