To My Libertine with Love,

The dungeon was dank and musty. Its narrow, dimly lit passages winded down into the earth under Canterlot Castle. It was a place few offenders returned from. Enemies of the crown, misanthropes, wrongdoers, serial killers; all the scum of Equestria ended up in this sanctum of incarceration. The recent arrest of the infamous master thief, Manfred the Clever, would bring a new edition to the underworld prison.

“Un-hand me you filthy scoundrels!” demanded Manfred. This isn’t want he wanted. This isn’t what he wanted at all! The red knucker never expected they’d actually be waiting for him. The royal guards had set a trap - for him of all creatures. Manfred was supposed to be the master of traps! How could this happen?

“Shut up!” yelled the Lunar Guard. He prodded the lanky dragon with his spear butt, “Now get inside!” He took off Manfred’s prisoner hood, and un-cuffed him. The escorts tossed Manfred into the dungeon cell and slammed the iron door shut. A heavy clicking signaled the locking of the door, and his incarceration.

Looking around the surprisingly spacious cell, Manfred inspected what he assumed would be his new home – for the foreseeable future. Having attempted a robbery of Equestria’s Royal Jewels, high treason, he was luck to still be alive.

The dragon had come up from below, beneath the Crow Room through the hypocaust. After being smuggled into the palace in a coal cart, he’d jumped into the furnace, and used his innate fire proof abilities to sneak through the labyrinth of under floor passages. When he finally reached his destination, he simply climbed up one of the chimneys and onto the roof. There he repelled down into the Crow Room using his custom made rope, but they caught him. The Captain of the Guard himself, Flash Sentry, had taken him from behind. Now, an hour later, after being bombasted by Princess Twilight Sparkle, he was in prison – for the first time in over five thousand years.

“Well, looks like I better make myself comfortable,” Manfred yawned. He stretched his red serpentine body across the cold hard floor, something he hadn’t done I a long while. Manfred was a cultured dragon. Knuckers like - and most other water dragon breeds – Manfred, usually inhabit underwater caves; abandon mines, or deep wells. As for this thief, he wasn't one for roughing it. His red slithery scales where accustomed to warm, pillowed beads. With hobbies like writing riddles, and playing chess, he is a refined and intellectual giant. His intellect couldn't be contained by such abominable abodes. Now mind me, he didn't avoid getting dirty from time to time, but he appreciated being able to retreat into the comforts of a real home.

As dragons go, Manfred is pretty small. The runt of his litter, as an adult he is only about three times larger than a full grow colt. Regular full grow Knuckers should reach about two times that size. Due to his small form, Manfred had to adopt more devious methods of survival – methods which would only strengthen him as a kleptomaniac.

From the corner of his yellow eyes, Manfred saw a shadow creeping. The drake acted surprised.

“Holy high Celestia, you scared me!” Manfred yelled. He recoiled backwards against the cavern wall. “Who are you anyway?” Despite his excellent eyesight, the dragon struggled to make out the figure in the dim torch light. He squinted, eye straining, and lowered his postured claws.

“I’m Crimson Aura. Who in Tartarus are you?” asked the shaded stranger. Her voice was soft as silk, and was two tones above a whisper.

“Manfred the Clever, at your service,” said the dragon. He stood up and gave a sarcastic bow.

The mare left the shadows to reveal herself in the dim light. Even in the faint light, Manfred could tell she was very attractive… a peculiar cell mate. Flowing across her majestic curves, the ponies’ long bright red hair almost touched the floor. Her green eyes were more spectacular than emeralds, and her slender cherry form looked like it belonged in a painting. Perhaps there was a hidden danger about her? Manfred was secretly on his guard. The dragon was no stranger to dangerous beauty.

“It is my pleasure to meet you, Crimson Aura,” Manfred flattered, his voice dripping with honey. A pleasantry smile crept across his face.

“You can cut the bull shit dragon,” said the mare frankly. Her tone had changed from inviting to hostile. “I’ve seen the nice guy act before, and I’m not buying into you shenanigans.” Her eyes flared in the light, as her mouth puckered into a line.

Manfred tried not to get taken aback. “Oh, I’m sorry. Whatever do you mean?” Manfred’s yellow orbs met the mare’s green eyes. His poker face was flawless – strikingly genuine. After thousands of years, Manfred was a total manipulator. The thief didn't need to steal candy from babies, creatures practically would hand what he wanted to him, and then some. As for what those who didn't, he took what he wanted without a trace.

“Oh, I thought you were going to flatter me or something…” trailed the Crimson. She notices the look in his eyes. It appeared honest and friendly, and strangely welcoming. He had an impression about him. It seemed even the most grievous insult or comment would melt away under his pleasant demeanor.

Crimson apologized, and said, “Sorry about that. I shouldn’t get off on the wrong hoof with you.” She rubbed her side, slightly embarrassed, but quickly straitened to prevent giving herself away.

“There’s no need for that, where all friends here,” said Manfred, motioning jokingly about the empty cell. “I get that a lot, being a dragon and all. Just don’t worry your little head about it anymore.” He threw in a warm smile for good measure.

There was an awkward silence as the two inspected each other - a female unicorn and a male dragon. What the Tartarus? In the back of his head, Manfred supposed Equestrian jail regulation needed a revision – it didn’t regulate gender separation of unlike species. He quickly wrecked that suggestive thought train, he didn’t need to go off and get enamored with his new cell mate – he needed to escape.

“So, if it’s not too impolite to ask… just how did a delicate thing like does you end up in a gross place like this?” asked Manfred. His inquiry seemed more like a compliment than a question.

The mare’s eyes looked on steadily. She said solemnly, “I’m a lady of the evening. Enough said.”

“Like Fleur Dis Lee?” asked the dragon, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

The mare rolled her eyes, and threw her man, “Please, that bitch? She’s an armature.” Hips swaying, the mare slinked back to the darkness and sat down.

“And you’re in here…” tailed Manfred, tapping his fore claws together, head bowed skeptically.

Crimson ignored the comment, and asked, “What about you dragon? I told you what I’m in for - how about you?” She threw back her long hair again.

“Whether you believe it or not, I tried to steal the crowned jewels!” trumpeted Manfred. He twirled around adding emphasis to his pretentiousness, laughing merrily. “But…” Manfred’s face deadpanned comically, “I got caught.”

“No shit,” said Crimson. “And you’re in here,” she added mockingly.

“Yes, yes…” pondered Manfred. Oh, how the dragon liked a good back talking. It made thing more interesting.

The awkward silence came again, but the air was less tense.

“So just who do you think you are stealing something like that, hu Manfred?” interrogated Crimson, “Some kind of master thief?” She chuckled at the notion.

“Mare, wouldn't you like to know,” thought Manfred.

“Actually I am. I’m the one all of Equestria has been looking for… You know the one with thirty thousand bits on his head?” piped Manfred. He looked deep into Crimsons eyes, he was actually telling the truth.

“No way?” said Crimson, jaw agape. She quickly dispelled her gawk, replacing it with a more fastidious look.

“Yes way!” Manfred sung, with a ring in his voice, “I’m most wanted… or was, at least. But getting caught is half the fun!”

The dragon looked about the room, and then back to Crimson Aura. He had a smile forming on his face.

“New plan,” he said abruptly, the crude smile complete. The smile was so devious; Crimson had a sinking feeling, the kind you get when you’re expecting something great to happen. Like right before your favorite team wins a game, or when you turn in a test knowing you aced it because it was too easy.

“So how long have you been in here,” asked the dragon, “And seeing as you’re a unicorn, why not just teleport out.”

Crimson sighed. “First off where hundreds of feet under the surface. Even Star Swirl the Bearded himself would have had trouble pulling off something like that… plus there is this anti magic hex on the whole place,” Crimson recited, “Any questions?” She added cheekily with a grin, whirling her hoof about with sarcastic emphasis.

“Nope,   that’s about it,” clicked the dragon. Manfred was busily checking the cavern’s walls, meticulously inspecting every inch. He rapped his claw on the hard surface in even intervals, while holding his ear near the wall listening intently.

“What in Tartarus is he doing?” thought Crimson. That dragon was insane. He was pacing round and round like a lunatic, stroking his own tail. He mumbled to himself like a madbeast. Was this some short of cruel punishment from the Princess herself? “Well, at least he’s not hard to look at,” she thought, “Wait! What am I thinking?” She shook her head, dispelling the though.

The dragon stopped and stared at the mare. “I’m actual older than I look, Crimson.” His face was without emotion. He stated it so matter-of-factly; it almost knocked Crimson off her balance.

“What? I didn’t say anything,” she defended, snapping out of her trance.

“Do you mind if I tell you a story about my youth?” asked the dragon, “I promise it won’t be a bore… stop me whenever you like, anyway. I just like to speak aloud when I’m thinking, is that ok?”

“OK?” Crimson didn’t quit agree, but seeing as she’d been stuck in solitary for two years, it was more appealing than it would have sounded given another place and time. She shrugged.

“Well, well,” smacked the drake, “Where should I begin?”

…

To understand me you have to understand my past. I was born a runt. My brothers and sisters were far better equipped for survival than I was. Being was not particularly big or strong; although fast, it was difficult for me to take down prey. For little me, I would have surely starved were it not for my own brains. I was forced to make do with my natural talents - which turned out to be better in the end. I have far outlived all of my relatives… by the Styx, I've outlive legends…

...

The bigger one growled at Manfred. "Get out of the way, runt! Unless you want to die!" The oldest, Thorn, brandished his teeth, and slapped his tail in a show of force.

"OK! OK!" surrendered Manfred, as he was tossed aside. Manfred was angry. His big brother, yet again, was pilfering his catch.

"What a bastard," thought Manfred. His stomach growled as he watched his old brother wolf down the rabbit he'd just killed. After hours of tracking and stalking, all just for this. It happened every time. It was like they wanted him dead.

Soft light filtered down through the branches of the oak. Manfred lay in the checkered shade, stomach empty. He was going to die if he didn't kill something to eat. It had been three weeks since he'd last eaten, and five since he left the nest. Mother had grown dangerous. The little dragon laid there, thinking to what to do. Letting out a heavy sigh of sadness, the leaves in front of him scattered. Dust blew up into the runts face, and he breathed it in. The little guy spent the next minute and a half sneezing and itching his nose. He reared up, and stumbled backwards into a thicket.

Tired and hungry he lay there. Thinking about what it was going to feel like to die starving.

"If only I could catch things without actually hunting," moped Manfred. He rubbed his eyes, the tears were starting to flow. The dragon laid there for several more moments, wallowing in self pity. Soon the tears had dried, and he licked the slat. Looking up, the dragon could see sun light flowing through the thicket. It was then he saw it. A singles fibrous strand, lying across the gaping opening he had made in the brush. Sitting up, Manfred got a better look at it. It was from a plant by the common name, dogbane, referring to the plant's toxic nature, which has been described as "poisonous to dogs."

It was then an idea formulated in Manfred's head. He stepped out the thicket, and began to pace. Holding the thread by his tail, ideas flew through his young mind.

"That's it!" he excitedly blurted. Quickly, the young dragon dove into the thicket and began pulling out all the dogbane he could hold. After collecting a large bundle, he laid them out in neat little rows. Surveying his materials, a smile crept over the little dragons face. Lack hairs, the reddish-brown tinted stems were mature. They had become woody at the base, and are much-branched in the upper portions of the plant. Getting to work, he first tarred off the stems and small, greenish-white flower clusters on the ends. Using his razor claws he slit the stems down the middle, each was cut into halves along the length. The drake then broke open the halves to release the fibrous insides, and he rubbed them; fluffing the fibers, separating them into long hairs.

The dragon then took the plant fibers and twisted them. Turing them about, he braided the brown hair into long strands. The little dragon tested the line. It broke.

"Not strong enough."

This time, he tried braiding more of the fibers. It worked. The dogbane twine held, and to his surprises, very well. The little dragon could swing from the tree, with his entire weight; on one single strand. The little dragon jumped for joy. His plan was working! He dashed around in the leaves. He could already taste the meat!

...

Within weeks, Manfred was eating like a king. His snares had caught so much fish and game; he could hardly stand at times from eating so much.

Along the rabbit trails, and in the shallows of the river, he set his snares. Manfred was quite happy with himself. Trapping was so much more energy efficient, not to mention filling, than running around in the dirt hunting. In luxury the young drake lived. He perched in the great oak at the center of the field - day in, day out - Manfred braded twine, and rope from the thicket nearby.  He would wait till just after duck and collected his catch. A large bone pile was forming near the base of the tree. The little dragon would amuse himself, arranging the bones and skins into sculpture.

The dragon had figured out the benefits of skinning animals instead of swallowing raw. Smoking the exposed meat in fire preserved it for later. This was especially useful at times when Manfred caught more than he could eat. Not only would Manfred have enough gorge on, he’d be able to stave off the winter comfortably. In a Knucker hole hidden below the great oak, he kept his stores. Life was great for Manfred. He took long naps in the sun on the hill. Picked flowers in the field, and swam for fun in the cool brooks. With charcoal he drew pictures of the land on parchment; and crafted beautiful jewelry from animal remains, and various objects. In his bountiful spare time, the little dragon discovered pottery, and his trap engineering skills improved drastically. Developing his own personal system of measurements and even writing, he recorded and scheduled his days meticulously. Manfred dabbled in riddles, and poetry; amusing himself with his own cleverness.

Yet, it was a retracted ignorance which he held. For about three months this went on. The young dragon was able to bask in the joys of his new prospects. Unfortunately, things would change. After a two week streak of his traps not yielding any game, Manfred came to a realization. He assumed one of his siblings had done it. Cleared his traps – stolen from him again - but it would be the last time. Manfred's dastardly clever mind had been busy designing traps for bigger game. On parchment derived from hides, using charcoal, the little dragon schemed up a perfect plan. Finishing, he let out a bellow of delight.

…

Manfred came to a halt in his investigation of the cavern cell. He paused and pressed his head against the cold rock. He rapped on the stone with his claw. A bright smile crossed his face, revealing his razor, pearly white teeth. There was something about his smile that stirred something within Crimson. She couldn't decide if it was admiration, or fear. Whichever the two, I seemed exciting.

The dragon glanced at his companion. “I grew up in these caves. Change them all they want,” Manfred looked up towards the ceiling, implying the Royal Guard, then back to Crimson; he continued, “But they will never trick me. This right here is a fake wall. It wasn’t here before… eight thousand years ago. What I’m about to do isn't for the faint of heart.” The dragon reared back an stuck his claw in his mouth, reaching back.

Crimson had no choice but to look on in gross fascination. A lump appeared in Manfred’s throat. The drake began to gurgle, as it slowly shifted up his neck. The clot passed his windpipe, as a horrible gagging sounded from the dragon. He quivered and shook as the bump finally arrive in his mouth. From behind his countless razor teeth the beast pulled a shiny, metallic canister. Shaped like a giant pill, the object was about as large as a newborn.

The mare was in disbelief. It had all happened so fast. “What the Tartarus?”

“Drakes like me have very flexible stomach linings. My captors neglected to check within their prisoner. It’s the oldest mistake,” said the dragon chuckling. He took the silver pill in his grasp and turned it against one of his claws. Metal shavings curled off of the metal object and fell to the floor. “They’ll never know what happened.”

Crimson Aura watched as the dragon returned to the wall. In the dim light, she couldn't make out what the dragon was doing. There was a flash of dragon fire, then nothing more. All of a sudden, the dragon came rush towards her. “GET DOW!” yelled Manfred.

She flinched, anticipating a blow, but it never came. He brushed past her and dove into an enclave near the door. In the darkness, the mare’s eyes could make out a faint light against the black. It was a sparkle, moving along an invisible path and it was hissing. It took a few seconds for the connection to click.

“Holy high Celestia!” exclaimed the mare. She joined her companion just in time. Covering her ears, she anticipated the explosion.

BOOM! The room shook like an earthquake. A warm breeze brushed against the inmates, and blew out the dim torch light. Crimson laid on the floor completely stunned, trying to come to terms with the situation. Her hair whipped about like a swinging mop. She could feel her brain jostling in its casing, bouncing around like a ball. Dazed and confused, the unicorn barely had any time to stand before she felt a cold force coil itself around her middle. The element picked the mare up, and whisked her into the darkness.

Manfred looked over his shoulder at the pony he was carrying by his tale. His eyes met Crimson’s which were half rolled back in shock. He said, “Don’t worry my little pony; we’ll be out of here in a jiffy. It was so lucky they gave me the same cell as you.” He smiled clownishly, winking at her.

“Oh-oh-oh, gr-e-e-a-a-ate,” stuttered the mare. She had no choice, but to bounce along as the dragon weaved and dogged through the newly blasted passage.

Along Manfred went, as if he had been there before. Fortunately for Crimson, the drake had a heightened spatial awareness. If it were not for this, the mare would have surely been impaled on several low lying stalactites. The small dark corridor now gradually widened. It opened up into a massive cave system. The dragon’s foot claws barley echoed in the obscure expanse. He paused only for a moment, letting out a massive blast of fire breath. The flare illuminated the room, just long enough for the dragon to find his bearings.

Crimson didn’t have the slightest idea what the dragon was doing, but at least she wasn't in that musky prison cell. How she loathed it. A spark of excitement flashed in the mare’s mind, “Freedom?!”

“D-don’t you t-think they h-herd that?” asked Crimson as she jostled along by the dragons tale.

“Oh please. The bomb blast?” panted the drake, “There weren't any guards posted, and like you said – we’re thousands of feet underground!” The dragon yelled dauntlessly into the vastness, “Buck you Celestia, and your fat plot too!”

The notion excited Crimson even more. The dragon carrying her obviously had confidence in his plan. It seemed to be going somewhere too, as Manfred began to speed up. The Knucker sensed he was close. He could smell the open air.

Along went the dragon, and with him his new companion. They went down dark passages, around blinding corners; and under earthen beams, and crystal columns. Crimson decided she’d let the dragon carry her, besides she didn't want to get lost in a huge, dark cave system. In addition, Manfred’s strong coils had a strange comfort to them. The mare felt a smile creep across her face. It was a strange feeling. She couldn't quite make it out. It was almost as if release from her hundred year jail sentence had been handed over on a silver platter. Too boot, she was being personally delivered too it by a dauntingly capable dragon, and for no cost what so ever. Crimson saw that Manfred was blissfully caught up in his own little game. She sensed he didn't expect anything in return for her release. Perhaps the dragon was doing it in spite of the Royals who sentenced him. But whatever the reason, Crimson Aura was going along with it more than willingly. After years of being cooped up underground, she was desperate for liberation. The mare swore she was on the verge of going bat shit crazy.

Manfred leapt across a wide crevasse, and careened towards a sheer wall. The mare squealed in fright, covering her eyes. Manfred’s claws slipped, but only for a second. Up and up the dragon climbed. Digging deep, he scaled the cave wall with ease. With the sensation of falling gone, Crimson dared open her eyes - only gaze endlessly into a bottomless chasm below.

“Oh my, aren't you the daring one?” asked Crimson coquettishly, but with a spice of fear.

“I’d like to think so,” said the dragon with a huff. His razor claws gripped the rocky siding.

Finally, after only slight difficulty, Manfred reached the top. A cool breeze swept over the duo. Crimson’s hair blustered in the wind. The dragon gently set the mare back on her hooves.

Correcting her mane, the mare thanked her transporter, “Uhh, thanks for the ride, but why are we stopping here?”

Instead of answering, the dragon simply pointed at the Moon, now clearly visible in the cloudless night sky.

“Ohh,” said Crimson. She caught on. “We’re standing on a cliff…”