Disparityby BlazzingInfernoChaptersMorningNoonAnd NightMorningTwilight’s eyes darted from the diagram on the parchment to the scene in front of her. Everything needed to be perfect. She’d chosen a spot in the living room over the library that received the proper amount of morning sunlight, drawn two chalk circles on the ground precisely six inches apart, and placed a carefully chosen test subject in each one. Spike’s yawn interrupted her thoughts. “Why do I have to stand in this circle for the spell to work? Why do we have to do this so early in the morning?” “Spike, it’s almost nine.” “Exactly, that’s way too early for magic.” She shook her head and smiled. “Sorry, Spike, emotive magic is difficult. I have to take the time of day, the weather, and–” He yawned again. “And the state of my subjects into account! Move two inches closer to your fellow test subject.” Spike glanced at the second chalk circle. The only thing in it was a nearly-wilted sunflower growing in a pot. “You mean the plant?” “Yes, the plant. Once I cast the spell, you should be able to feel its emotions. Ready?” “If this is an emotion spell, why use a plant? You just have to look at it to know what it’s feeling: hunger.” “Starting with a plant is safer. Now please, Spike, just clear your mind of all emotions, and we’ll begin.” “After this we’re going shopping, right? Hearts and Hooves Day is tomorrow, and you promised you’d help me find the perfect gift for Rarity.” Twilight sighed. Getting through this experiment today was a must; Spike would effectively be Rarity’s assistant tomorrow instead of hers. “Yes, I’ll help you choose a gift, but right now you need to clear your mind. No emotions, and no more interruptions. Got it?” “Got it.” Magic flowed through her horn. She’d never cast a spell quite like this one. There were no special words to think or incantations to recite. Emotive spells were all about how one felt, and the near-perfect likeness between the spell diagram and the scene before her put a confident smile on her face. Purple light surrounded her test subjects. After months of preparation, the moment had finally arrived, the moment when she ventured into a realm of magic that Star Swirl himself referred to as an ineffable mystery. Then the library door slammed open. “Twilight, darling? I need your opinion on this hat; I’m convinced everypony else hasn’t given me an honest answer, but I know I can count on you to–” Bolts of wild magic ricocheted around the library. Twilight and Spike dove for cover amid twin bouts of screaming. Rarity galloped up the staircase and found them both face down on the floor. “Spikey? Twlight? What’s going on?” Twilight cautiously opened one eye. Spike was cowering in his circle while Rarity shielded him with her hooves. Otherwise, the world looked normal. Finally an interrupted spell hadn’t resulted in ruined books or animals transmuted into fruit. Better still, the once-dying sunflower now stood up tall in the morning light. Apparently she’d relayed an emotion between her test subjects after all. “Well, I guess we know how a certain dragon feels about a certain… uh… never mind! Hi, Rarity.” Rarity didn’t look away from Spike. “Speak to me, Spikey. Let me know you’re all right.” Spike hopped up and flexed his arms. “Never better. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for breakfast.” He ran off while the two mares looked on. Rarity removed her hat, a shimmering blue number rimmed with a rainbow of jewels, and stepped on it. “Drat.” “Rarity, what are you doing? That’s a gorgeous hat.” “Perhaps, but it has failed its raison d'être; I can’t stand to look at it a moment longer.” “Huh?” Rarity took a furtive look around, slid over, and whispered in her ear. “Spike.” “Spike?” “Yes, dear, Spike. If the hat doesn’t draw his eye to me, then it’s of no use. I’ll simply have to try something else.” Twilight mentally wrestled with several words before one finally escaped her mouth. “Spike?” “Such a handsome dragon, isn’t he? With Hearts and Hooves Day just around the corner, I simply must find a way to admit my… feelings.” “You… You have a crush on Spike?” Rarity gave a coy smile and nodded. “Since when?” “Oh, I’ve always enjoyed his compliments and adoration, and now I feel that perhaps there might be something more there. Do you think it might be mutual, Twilight? Please say yes.” Twilight shoved her own hoof in her mouth. She couldn’t just blurt it out. Spike would never forgive her, and Pinkie would never let her hear the end of it. “Why don’t you try the hat one more time? Spike’s probably in the kitchen.” Rarity dusted off her trampled chapeau and pushed it back into shape. “Only if you think it stands a chance at success.” “Oh, I guarantee it!” They found Spike in the kitchen, wielding a pan full of eggs and daisies over the hot stove. He waved at them with his free hand, but didn’t take his eyes off his work. “Mind if I throw in a little ketchup, Twilight?” “Err, sure. First, could you take a look at Rarity’s new hat? She’d really like your personal opinion on it, especially with Hearts and Hooves Day coming up tomorrow.” Spike grabbed the ketchup bottle and gave Rarity’s come-hither pose a moment’s glance. “Looks fine to me, Rarity. I’m not really into… you know… girly stuff. You should be asking Twilight what she thinks.” Twilight stared at him open-mouthed while tears welled up in Rarity’s eyes. Spike only noticed after he’d finished with the bottle. “What? Too much ketchup?” Twilight rushed through breakfast, or at least tried to. Spike’s plate had been clean for ten minutes, and Rarity was undoubtedly home by now, crying over her borrowed and bruised feelings. “How did this even happen? Why is the plant blooming if Spike’s crush got transferred to Rarity? It’s almost as if… ugh, I don’t know.” Spike walked into the room with a broom and dustpan in hand. “Did you say something, Twilight?” “I really messed up that spell, Spike.” “It can’t be that bad. So what if I don’t know how the plant feels? It’s blooming now, and I feel great too.” “You’re not concerned about tomorrow?” “Tomorrow? Isn’t it a Tuesday?” She rolled her eyes. “It’s Hearts and Hooves Day.” “Oh, right. I’ll just spend it inside. I mean, Sugarcube Corner’s going to be packed, so will the park, and every other nice spot in town. It’ll be a great time to do some reading.” She scooped up the last of the eggs with her fork. “Did your new comic book come in early?” “Actually I was thinking about starting on that big stack of books by my bed.” She spit out a mouthful of eggs. “You mean all the books I’ve been trying to convince you to read since we came to Ponyville?” “Well, yeah. Don’t look so shocked. I said I’d get around to it, didn’t I?” She laid her head on the table and stared at the remains of her breakfast. “I… I guess you did.” He set down his cleaning supplies and placed a hand on her back. “Are you feeling all right?” “I’m fine. I just have a long day of studying and calculations ahead of me.” “Isn’t that every day?” “Usually I don’t feel so tired this early; maybe that’s why I can’t figure out how to fix the spell.” He cleared away the dishes and patted her head. “You’ll figure it out, Twilight; you always do. I’ll go get you some parchment and quills.” “Thanks. You’re a true friend, Spike, and a wonderful assistant. I promise I’ll make this right.” “Make what right?” “Everything.” NoonNoon came and went, but Twilight didn’t move from her spot at the table. She was surrounded by discarded sheets of parchment, used up quills, and every book on emotive magic she possessed. Her quill, floating in a purple aura, sketched her latest attempt to explain where everything went wrong. “So let’s see: Rarity bursts in, Spike gets a big emotional surge, and it transfers to Rarity. It must’ve hit the plant too. Now how did Spike get my love of reading? It’s almost like–” She yawned and quickly shook herself awake. “Ugh. Feeling tired is definitely from Spike. I’d better add that in too.” Her diagram gained a few more lines, then more, and then more. Her heart quickened; she could almost see the solution. If she could just keep her focus for a few more minutes she’d have this all sorted out before dinner. She reached for a fresh sheet of parchment which, to her surprise, wasn’t there. “Was that really a hundred already? Spike?” There was no response. Normally he’d have refilled her parchment and ink supplies an hour ago, not to mention pestering her about getting out of the library for a change. What had the spell done to him now? She glanced over at a highlighted passage in the nearest book. She’d underlined the word “exactness” twice. That’s how the great unicorn scholars summed up the challenge of performing emotive magic: the need for exactness. She’d studied every warning and taken every precaution, all except for locking the library door before they started, unfortunately. The book went on to describe the precarious situation that could result from a miscast emotive spell, going so far as to use the phrase “magic explosion” several times. The slightest mistake, like allowing Rarity to express the feelings Spike hadn’t been able to, could mean disaster. “It’s still okay. I just need to focus. I almost have it figured out. If I can just–” A leaf dropped onto her nose. She brushed it away and sneezed. “Where did that come from… oh.” All she needed to do was look up. Wild vines were overtaking the ceiling, all of them covered in sunflowers. “Spike!” She heard a bump from the next room over, followed by the all-too-familiar sound of stacked books tumbling to the ground. At last Spike entered the room. “I’m here. What’s wrong? Did you have a breakthrough? What are you look at up–whoa.” “The spell’s effects are getting worse. I need to you run down to The Carousel Boutique before we lose the whole library to that plant.” “What’s the Boutique have that’s going to get rid of those vines? Sharp scissors?” “Better: my latest test subject.” A half hour later, there were three chalk circles on the ground and a test subject in each one. The plant had laid permanent claim to the middle circle; thick green vines and giant yellow sunflowers covered the floor, walls, and ceiling. Rarity pushed the nearest vine aside. “Could we hurry this along, Twilight? Some of us still have preparations to make for tomorrow.” She looked over at Spike and batted her eyelashes. Spike took a quick peek over the book he was reading. “Uh… yeah. Any time now, Twilight.” Twilight had surrounded herself with a flowing wall of parchment sheets, partly to help her focus, and partly to hide her bloodshot eyes from Rarity. Explaining her exhaustion was yet another risk she couldn’t avoid taking. Rarity cleared her throat. “Twilight, if you please?” “I’m almost done. I have to make sure this is absolutely right before we start. I’m sorry this is taking you away from your… preparations, Rarity.” “Anything for a friend, darling, of course. I’ll manage, although I must say I’ve had the hardest time completing my orders this morning. There just seems to be something… missing from my creative vision.” Twilight’s wall of parchment collapsed on top of her. “Could… could you repeat that?” Rarity stared at Spike and smiled. “I suppose I’ve just been distracted by a certain somepony, or should I say somedragon.” Spike attempted to hide his whole body behind his book. “You… um… you don’t say.” Twilight fished around for a clean piece of parchment. “That changes everything! So Spike gave Rarity and the plant… something. Spike gave me the sleepiness. I gave Spike reading… So where did Rarity’s creative vision go?” Rarity tore her eyes off of Spike for the first time in twenty minutes. “Go? Whatever do you mean?” “It’s… complicated. If I explain, I might make this whole thing worse. Just stay in your circles until I can recalc–” Books flew across the vine-covered room, and Spike let out a scream. “Twilight, help!” She glanced up from her notes to see Rarity’s hooves around him. His frantic struggle to escape was useless against her magic-infused grip. “I can’t help it any more, Spikey. I need to admit something to you, and it can’t wait a moment–” Twilight teleported herself into the middle of their forced embrace. Spike flew across the room while Rarity found herself with Twilight’s hoof over her mouth. “Stop it! You can’t tell him now, not before I cast the spell.” “But I must! I can’t stand to keep it bottled up, to stand idly by his side while my own feelings–” “If you tell him, it’d be a disaster… uh… I mean… it’d be a disaster if you did it before tomorrow. It’s going to be Hearts and Hooves Day, right? You couldn’t ask for a better day to let it all come out. If you hurry, you could still buy that… that lucky pony or dragon the perfect gift. Who says it has to be hoofmade?” Rarity’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re right! The perfect gift for him undoubtedly transcends my own base creations. I’ll spare no expense!” Rarity galloped down the stairs before Twilight could protest. New flowers bloomed as she passed by. Spike groaned. “What’s gotten into her? She’s nice and all, but–” “Let’s not go into it right now; I need to figure out this new variables, and fast.” “Take your time and relax, Twilight. I’ve gotten more reading done today than… well, ever. I’ve never enjoyed books so much. Not just the fiction either; I’m halfway through that awesome History of Philosophy book, and I just started the chapter on transponyism.” She shook her head. “There’s no time for reading. I need more parchment and ink. Lots of it.” “Why don’t you take a nap first? You look exhausted.” She sank to the ground and covered her eyes. “I am. I really am.” He came closer and patted her on the back. “Just close your eyes for a little bit. I do it all the time. You can keep working after you wake up, and I’ll help you… assuming Rarity hasn’t dragon-napped me or something.” “Can’t sleep. Must fix spell.” “Why’s this so important, anyway? You’re always ragging on me about getting enough sleep.” “Let’s just say you gave Rarity something, and she’s a lot less stable with it than you ever were.” “Since when did I ever give her anything?” She pointed at the staircase. “Parchment. Ink. Lots of it. Go.” And NightTwilight heard her name being called in the distance. She stretched out on her bed and reached for the covers. “Can I have five more minutes, Mom, please?” A leaf tickled her nose, and the resulting sneeze woke her up. Her childhood bed turned out to be a patch of sunflowers blooming on the living room floor. The only light came from faint beams of moonlight piercing through the vine covered windows. She wasn’t in her library anymore; she was in the world’s only indoor jungle. She rubbed her eyes. “What happened?” “Twilight! Can you hear me?” Spike’s voice was faint. “Spike?” Green fire lit up the room, and burning sunflowers fell away from the staircase. Two purple claws reached through the foliage, and Spike pushed his way inside. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over.” “I’m right where you left me one… two… how many hours has it been?” “Six! I went out for quills and parchment like you asked, and I stopped to get groceries since we’re out of ketchup, and then I just had to go to the bookstore… never mind. By the time I came home, I couldn’t even get our front door open. The plant’s everywhere. I’ve been burning a path through the whole library ever since just trying to find you.” She tried to stand, and found she couldn’t. Fresh greenery had her pinned to the floor. “This has to stop. I don’t care what it takes.” “Weed killer, if you ask me.” “The plant isn’t the real problem. It’s just a symptom of the spell getting even more out of control. You haven’t seen Rarity, have you?” “Not since she ran off to go shopping this afternoon.” A few bolts of magic freed her from her botanical prison. “I know you’re not going to like this, but we need her here again.” “In here? You really want to try the spell again in the library jungle?” “This time we’re doing it outside, in the moonlight.” “What about making sure all the variables and states are right?” “We’ll just have to risk it. If this goes on much longer, I don’t know what’s going to happen.” By the time they stepped outside, the answer was rolling down the street. Rarity was trotting toward the library with her head held high and her horn aglow. She was magically towing a large wooden cart whose ten-foot-tall contents were hidden by a tarp. Her eyes lit up when she saw them. “Spikey Wikey, I’m so glad you’re still awake. I did originally plan on saving this little… err… big surprise for tomorrow morning on Hearts and Hooves Day, but I just couldn’t wait to see the look on your face.” Twilight ran to her. “Rarity, wait, before you show Spike your surprise, I have one last spell to try. It’ll only take a minute.” Rarity’s eyes narrowed. “I have done nothing but wait, Twilight Sparkle, and I won’t do it for much longer. You have precisely one minute; I refuse to delay expressing my feelings a moment longer than that.” “Perfect. Now come sit right here next to Spike in front of the library.” “Gladly. I love what you’ve done with the place, by the way; all of those yellow blossoms complement the classic oak tree look beautifully.” She wrestled Spike away from his book and squeezed him against her shoulder. “Fifty seconds, my Spikey, then you shall see the best Hearts and Hooves Day gift there has ever been.” “Looks awfully big to be a book.” “Oh it’s better than that, so much better.” Twilight gave the exterior of her library a hard look. The vines were everywhere, and yet Rarity had a point. The flowers weren’t blooming randomly; they’d formed awnings over the doors and windows, spirals around the branches, and lace patterns on the walls. “That’s it! That’s the missing piece!” Her horn lit up as she turned to her friends. “This is it. Time to make things right.” Her purple magic encircled Spike, Rarity, and the entire library. Instilling herself with the proper emotion was easy; she wanted nothing more than her normal friends and home back. She needed a vine-free bed to sleep in, and an infatuated Rarity was even worse than an infatuated Spike. The magic aura faded away, and her smile soon followed. Vines and sunflowers still covered the library, Spike’s was still eyeing his book forlornly while Rarity cuddled him, and she could feel a fresh yawn coming on. “What? Why didn’t that work? I had all the key variables!” She stared at the sky at shouted. “I had all the key variables! I calculated everything! I even compensated for seconds until midnight and the phase of the moon! What kind of ‘exactness’ am I missing now?” Rarity hugged Spike tighter and giggled. “Twenty seconds, Twilight, then he’s mine.” Twilight stomped her hoof. “I am so close to saying something I’ll regret, Rar… Wait! What if I’ve been doing this all wrong?” “Fifteen, fourteen…” “I’ve been striving for physical exactness, but that’s not important at all! It doesn’t matter if the distance between the test subjects is perfect. This is an emotion spell; what matters is knowing exactly what emotions are in play, and I’ve been leaving out my own the whole time!” “Five, four…” She turned her horn into a spotlight. “Spike, look at me!” “But I’m just getting to the good par–” “Now! You too, Rarity.” With their gazes fixed on her, Twilight concentrated on how much she wanted her old friends back. “This is either going to undo the spell or level Ponyville: Spike, you’ve had a crush on Rarity since the day you met her. You even told me once, and I Pinkie Promised to keep it a secret, but now it can’t be helped. You do so much trying to win her over in secret that sometimes it hurts me just to see you try. Rarity, Spike is only a friend in your eyes; you’ve never returned his affection, and personally I think you just like having somepony around to do your dirty work and stroke your ego. When you burst in on us this morning, my spell swapped us all around. Rarity got Spike’s crush, Spike got my love of reading, my houseplant got Rarity’s passion for beauty, and I…” She stopped to yawn. “And I got my houseplant’s exhaustion.” A white glow enveloped everything, followed by a small boom felt by the heart and not the ears. Suddenly Twilight was wide awake, and the vines covering the library were gone. Spike and Rarity were seated five feet apart, both blushing profusely. She let out a cheer and clapped her hooves. “I did it! We’re back! Everything’s okay now.” Spike kicked his book away. “Not really.” The full weight of what she’d revealed came rushing back, and her face fell. “I’m so sorry… I’m sorry I broke my promise, and I’m sorry I said all those mean things. That’s just what it took to break the spell.” Rarity gave a wide-eyed nod. “It’s… quite all right, Twilight. At least we’re ourselves again.” Twilight reached a hoof out to Spike, who hadn’t lifted his gaze off the ground. “Spike… are you going to be okay? I’m so sorry I–” “I just need a little time, Twilight, okay?” She shrank back and frowned. “Can… can we talk more tomorrow?” “Yeah… tomorrow.” Rarity cleared her throat. “Twilight, could you give us a moment?” Twilight looked up at the crescent moon. “You can have the whole night if you want. I’ve got a stack of books that I need to send to the restricted section of the Canterlot Library.” “Go ahead. We won’t be long.” Rarity watched Twilight head to the library, take one last look at Spike, and close the door behind her. Next she turned her attention to the little dragon sulking nearby. What could she say to him after not only experiencing his feelings, but parading around with them like a stolen diary? Worst of all was the fresh ache in her heart, a pain that was very much hers, and very much deserved. He glanced at her, opened his mouth, paused, and looked away. “I guess I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.” She gasped. “Why would I ever want that, Spike? You’re my… No, I won’t use that word. You know that I care about you, don’t you?” “And you know… You know how I feel.” She moved some dirt around with a hoof. “Yes. Yes I do. How you feel isn’t what makes it hard to to have this conversation, not compared to everything else Twilight said.” “She was right. I thought you were gorgeous back when we first met. I don’t think I really had a crush on you that far back, but–” “Regardless, Twilight described my behavior quite accurately.” She shut her eyes. “I’ve known about your ‘crush’ for some time now, Spike, and I confess I’ve let myself take advantage of it. It’s a discredit to our friendship that’s entirely my fault.” He sat down on top of his now-closed book and stared at the ground. “I’d still do it all over again.” “Come again?” “I knew you were just leading me on, Rarity, but it was okay. I guess I could just forget about that part once in a while and imagine that we were really getting closer. I was going to drag Twilight out this afternoon so I could buy you a present and everything. It all feels so dumb now.” She glanced up at her gargantuan purchase. “I don’t suppose you’d like to see what I… well… what a very obsessed version of me bought you for Hearts and Hooves Day before I return it? I’m afraid I’d have to take out a mortgage on my shop if I actually let you keep it.” “Sure, why not.” An aura of light blue magic lifted the tarp away. Three huge statues, a red ruby mare and a blue sapphire dragon on either side of a rose quartz heart, caught Spike’s eyes and set his mouth watering. “Wow, Rarity, that looks delicious.” “I knew you’d like it.” He stopped salivating and turned away. “You’d better cover that, I don’t want you to lose your shop just because I can’t help myself.” She replaced the tarp and sat down next to him. “Shall we discuss tomorrow, then?” He sighed. “Don’t worry, I won’t bother you. Just go have a nice day with whoever the lucky stallion is.” She paused. She couldn’t just say goodnight and walk away, not again. How many times had he held a door open for her, or fetched her mail, or served as her pincushion? More importantly, how often had she judged his looks of adoration as simplistic and shallow? The feelings she’d temporarily borrowed from him were just the opposite; they were the sort of feelings that she’d locked out of her own heart, the sort of feelings that she’d long ago dismissed as wishful thinking. “Spike… I have another idea.” “Huh?” “I’ve always known you’ve been attracted to me, but I never genuinely considered your feelings… their sincerity, their depth… even if they were getting a little exaggerated as today wore on. In all honesty, the feelings I experienced today weren’t at all what I expected to find within your heart. If… If you’d be willing to look past the near-callous abuse I’ve put you through for all these years… Would you be willing to give me one little chance to make it up to you? Perhaps tomorrow?” He stared at her with his mouth hanging open. “You mean…” She nodded. “Tomorrow is Hearts and Hooves Day, after all. Would you like to–” He jumped up, bowed, and held out a claw. “Where are my manners? I read three books on chivalry today. My fair lady Rarity, would you do me the honor of being my special somepony for Hearts and Hooves Day?” She blushed and gave him her hoof. “Gladly, my dear Spike.”
MorningTwilight’s eyes darted from the diagram on the parchment to the scene in front of her. Everything needed to be perfect. She’d chosen a spot in the living room over the library that received the proper amount of morning sunlight, drawn two chalk circles on the ground precisely six inches apart, and placed a carefully chosen test subject in each one. Spike’s yawn interrupted her thoughts. “Why do I have to stand in this circle for the spell to work? Why do we have to do this so early in the morning?” “Spike, it’s almost nine.” “Exactly, that’s way too early for magic.” She shook her head and smiled. “Sorry, Spike, emotive magic is difficult. I have to take the time of day, the weather, and–” He yawned again. “And the state of my subjects into account! Move two inches closer to your fellow test subject.” Spike glanced at the second chalk circle. The only thing in it was a nearly-wilted sunflower growing in a pot. “You mean the plant?” “Yes, the plant. Once I cast the spell, you should be able to feel its emotions. Ready?” “If this is an emotion spell, why use a plant? You just have to look at it to know what it’s feeling: hunger.” “Starting with a plant is safer. Now please, Spike, just clear your mind of all emotions, and we’ll begin.” “After this we’re going shopping, right? Hearts and Hooves Day is tomorrow, and you promised you’d help me find the perfect gift for Rarity.” Twilight sighed. Getting through this experiment today was a must; Spike would effectively be Rarity’s assistant tomorrow instead of hers. “Yes, I’ll help you choose a gift, but right now you need to clear your mind. No emotions, and no more interruptions. Got it?” “Got it.” Magic flowed through her horn. She’d never cast a spell quite like this one. There were no special words to think or incantations to recite. Emotive spells were all about how one felt, and the near-perfect likeness between the spell diagram and the scene before her put a confident smile on her face. Purple light surrounded her test subjects. After months of preparation, the moment had finally arrived, the moment when she ventured into a realm of magic that Star Swirl himself referred to as an ineffable mystery. Then the library door slammed open. “Twilight, darling? I need your opinion on this hat; I’m convinced everypony else hasn’t given me an honest answer, but I know I can count on you to–” Bolts of wild magic ricocheted around the library. Twilight and Spike dove for cover amid twin bouts of screaming. Rarity galloped up the staircase and found them both face down on the floor. “Spikey? Twlight? What’s going on?” Twilight cautiously opened one eye. Spike was cowering in his circle while Rarity shielded him with her hooves. Otherwise, the world looked normal. Finally an interrupted spell hadn’t resulted in ruined books or animals transmuted into fruit. Better still, the once-dying sunflower now stood up tall in the morning light. Apparently she’d relayed an emotion between her test subjects after all. “Well, I guess we know how a certain dragon feels about a certain… uh… never mind! Hi, Rarity.” Rarity didn’t look away from Spike. “Speak to me, Spikey. Let me know you’re all right.” Spike hopped up and flexed his arms. “Never better. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for breakfast.” He ran off while the two mares looked on. Rarity removed her hat, a shimmering blue number rimmed with a rainbow of jewels, and stepped on it. “Drat.” “Rarity, what are you doing? That’s a gorgeous hat.” “Perhaps, but it has failed its raison d'être; I can’t stand to look at it a moment longer.” “Huh?” Rarity took a furtive look around, slid over, and whispered in her ear. “Spike.” “Spike?” “Yes, dear, Spike. If the hat doesn’t draw his eye to me, then it’s of no use. I’ll simply have to try something else.” Twilight mentally wrestled with several words before one finally escaped her mouth. “Spike?” “Such a handsome dragon, isn’t he? With Hearts and Hooves Day just around the corner, I simply must find a way to admit my… feelings.” “You… You have a crush on Spike?” Rarity gave a coy smile and nodded. “Since when?” “Oh, I’ve always enjoyed his compliments and adoration, and now I feel that perhaps there might be something more there. Do you think it might be mutual, Twilight? Please say yes.” Twilight shoved her own hoof in her mouth. She couldn’t just blurt it out. Spike would never forgive her, and Pinkie would never let her hear the end of it. “Why don’t you try the hat one more time? Spike’s probably in the kitchen.” Rarity dusted off her trampled chapeau and pushed it back into shape. “Only if you think it stands a chance at success.” “Oh, I guarantee it!” They found Spike in the kitchen, wielding a pan full of eggs and daisies over the hot stove. He waved at them with his free hand, but didn’t take his eyes off his work. “Mind if I throw in a little ketchup, Twilight?” “Err, sure. First, could you take a look at Rarity’s new hat? She’d really like your personal opinion on it, especially with Hearts and Hooves Day coming up tomorrow.” Spike grabbed the ketchup bottle and gave Rarity’s come-hither pose a moment’s glance. “Looks fine to me, Rarity. I’m not really into… you know… girly stuff. You should be asking Twilight what she thinks.” Twilight stared at him open-mouthed while tears welled up in Rarity’s eyes. Spike only noticed after he’d finished with the bottle. “What? Too much ketchup?” Twilight rushed through breakfast, or at least tried to. Spike’s plate had been clean for ten minutes, and Rarity was undoubtedly home by now, crying over her borrowed and bruised feelings. “How did this even happen? Why is the plant blooming if Spike’s crush got transferred to Rarity? It’s almost as if… ugh, I don’t know.” Spike walked into the room with a broom and dustpan in hand. “Did you say something, Twilight?” “I really messed up that spell, Spike.” “It can’t be that bad. So what if I don’t know how the plant feels? It’s blooming now, and I feel great too.” “You’re not concerned about tomorrow?” “Tomorrow? Isn’t it a Tuesday?” She rolled her eyes. “It’s Hearts and Hooves Day.” “Oh, right. I’ll just spend it inside. I mean, Sugarcube Corner’s going to be packed, so will the park, and every other nice spot in town. It’ll be a great time to do some reading.” She scooped up the last of the eggs with her fork. “Did your new comic book come in early?” “Actually I was thinking about starting on that big stack of books by my bed.” She spit out a mouthful of eggs. “You mean all the books I’ve been trying to convince you to read since we came to Ponyville?” “Well, yeah. Don’t look so shocked. I said I’d get around to it, didn’t I?” She laid her head on the table and stared at the remains of her breakfast. “I… I guess you did.” He set down his cleaning supplies and placed a hand on her back. “Are you feeling all right?” “I’m fine. I just have a long day of studying and calculations ahead of me.” “Isn’t that every day?” “Usually I don’t feel so tired this early; maybe that’s why I can’t figure out how to fix the spell.” He cleared away the dishes and patted her head. “You’ll figure it out, Twilight; you always do. I’ll go get you some parchment and quills.” “Thanks. You’re a true friend, Spike, and a wonderful assistant. I promise I’ll make this right.” “Make what right?” “Everything.”
NoonNoon came and went, but Twilight didn’t move from her spot at the table. She was surrounded by discarded sheets of parchment, used up quills, and every book on emotive magic she possessed. Her quill, floating in a purple aura, sketched her latest attempt to explain where everything went wrong. “So let’s see: Rarity bursts in, Spike gets a big emotional surge, and it transfers to Rarity. It must’ve hit the plant too. Now how did Spike get my love of reading? It’s almost like–” She yawned and quickly shook herself awake. “Ugh. Feeling tired is definitely from Spike. I’d better add that in too.” Her diagram gained a few more lines, then more, and then more. Her heart quickened; she could almost see the solution. If she could just keep her focus for a few more minutes she’d have this all sorted out before dinner. She reached for a fresh sheet of parchment which, to her surprise, wasn’t there. “Was that really a hundred already? Spike?” There was no response. Normally he’d have refilled her parchment and ink supplies an hour ago, not to mention pestering her about getting out of the library for a change. What had the spell done to him now? She glanced over at a highlighted passage in the nearest book. She’d underlined the word “exactness” twice. That’s how the great unicorn scholars summed up the challenge of performing emotive magic: the need for exactness. She’d studied every warning and taken every precaution, all except for locking the library door before they started, unfortunately. The book went on to describe the precarious situation that could result from a miscast emotive spell, going so far as to use the phrase “magic explosion” several times. The slightest mistake, like allowing Rarity to express the feelings Spike hadn’t been able to, could mean disaster. “It’s still okay. I just need to focus. I almost have it figured out. If I can just–” A leaf dropped onto her nose. She brushed it away and sneezed. “Where did that come from… oh.” All she needed to do was look up. Wild vines were overtaking the ceiling, all of them covered in sunflowers. “Spike!” She heard a bump from the next room over, followed by the all-too-familiar sound of stacked books tumbling to the ground. At last Spike entered the room. “I’m here. What’s wrong? Did you have a breakthrough? What are you look at up–whoa.” “The spell’s effects are getting worse. I need to you run down to The Carousel Boutique before we lose the whole library to that plant.” “What’s the Boutique have that’s going to get rid of those vines? Sharp scissors?” “Better: my latest test subject.” A half hour later, there were three chalk circles on the ground and a test subject in each one. The plant had laid permanent claim to the middle circle; thick green vines and giant yellow sunflowers covered the floor, walls, and ceiling. Rarity pushed the nearest vine aside. “Could we hurry this along, Twilight? Some of us still have preparations to make for tomorrow.” She looked over at Spike and batted her eyelashes. Spike took a quick peek over the book he was reading. “Uh… yeah. Any time now, Twilight.” Twilight had surrounded herself with a flowing wall of parchment sheets, partly to help her focus, and partly to hide her bloodshot eyes from Rarity. Explaining her exhaustion was yet another risk she couldn’t avoid taking. Rarity cleared her throat. “Twilight, if you please?” “I’m almost done. I have to make sure this is absolutely right before we start. I’m sorry this is taking you away from your… preparations, Rarity.” “Anything for a friend, darling, of course. I’ll manage, although I must say I’ve had the hardest time completing my orders this morning. There just seems to be something… missing from my creative vision.” Twilight’s wall of parchment collapsed on top of her. “Could… could you repeat that?” Rarity stared at Spike and smiled. “I suppose I’ve just been distracted by a certain somepony, or should I say somedragon.” Spike attempted to hide his whole body behind his book. “You… um… you don’t say.” Twilight fished around for a clean piece of parchment. “That changes everything! So Spike gave Rarity and the plant… something. Spike gave me the sleepiness. I gave Spike reading… So where did Rarity’s creative vision go?” Rarity tore her eyes off of Spike for the first time in twenty minutes. “Go? Whatever do you mean?” “It’s… complicated. If I explain, I might make this whole thing worse. Just stay in your circles until I can recalc–” Books flew across the vine-covered room, and Spike let out a scream. “Twilight, help!” She glanced up from her notes to see Rarity’s hooves around him. His frantic struggle to escape was useless against her magic-infused grip. “I can’t help it any more, Spikey. I need to admit something to you, and it can’t wait a moment–” Twilight teleported herself into the middle of their forced embrace. Spike flew across the room while Rarity found herself with Twilight’s hoof over her mouth. “Stop it! You can’t tell him now, not before I cast the spell.” “But I must! I can’t stand to keep it bottled up, to stand idly by his side while my own feelings–” “If you tell him, it’d be a disaster… uh… I mean… it’d be a disaster if you did it before tomorrow. It’s going to be Hearts and Hooves Day, right? You couldn’t ask for a better day to let it all come out. If you hurry, you could still buy that… that lucky pony or dragon the perfect gift. Who says it has to be hoofmade?” Rarity’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re right! The perfect gift for him undoubtedly transcends my own base creations. I’ll spare no expense!” Rarity galloped down the stairs before Twilight could protest. New flowers bloomed as she passed by. Spike groaned. “What’s gotten into her? She’s nice and all, but–” “Let’s not go into it right now; I need to figure out this new variables, and fast.” “Take your time and relax, Twilight. I’ve gotten more reading done today than… well, ever. I’ve never enjoyed books so much. Not just the fiction either; I’m halfway through that awesome History of Philosophy book, and I just started the chapter on transponyism.” She shook her head. “There’s no time for reading. I need more parchment and ink. Lots of it.” “Why don’t you take a nap first? You look exhausted.” She sank to the ground and covered her eyes. “I am. I really am.” He came closer and patted her on the back. “Just close your eyes for a little bit. I do it all the time. You can keep working after you wake up, and I’ll help you… assuming Rarity hasn’t dragon-napped me or something.” “Can’t sleep. Must fix spell.” “Why’s this so important, anyway? You’re always ragging on me about getting enough sleep.” “Let’s just say you gave Rarity something, and she’s a lot less stable with it than you ever were.” “Since when did I ever give her anything?” She pointed at the staircase. “Parchment. Ink. Lots of it. Go.”
And NightTwilight heard her name being called in the distance. She stretched out on her bed and reached for the covers. “Can I have five more minutes, Mom, please?” A leaf tickled her nose, and the resulting sneeze woke her up. Her childhood bed turned out to be a patch of sunflowers blooming on the living room floor. The only light came from faint beams of moonlight piercing through the vine covered windows. She wasn’t in her library anymore; she was in the world’s only indoor jungle. She rubbed her eyes. “What happened?” “Twilight! Can you hear me?” Spike’s voice was faint. “Spike?” Green fire lit up the room, and burning sunflowers fell away from the staircase. Two purple claws reached through the foliage, and Spike pushed his way inside. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over.” “I’m right where you left me one… two… how many hours has it been?” “Six! I went out for quills and parchment like you asked, and I stopped to get groceries since we’re out of ketchup, and then I just had to go to the bookstore… never mind. By the time I came home, I couldn’t even get our front door open. The plant’s everywhere. I’ve been burning a path through the whole library ever since just trying to find you.” She tried to stand, and found she couldn’t. Fresh greenery had her pinned to the floor. “This has to stop. I don’t care what it takes.” “Weed killer, if you ask me.” “The plant isn’t the real problem. It’s just a symptom of the spell getting even more out of control. You haven’t seen Rarity, have you?” “Not since she ran off to go shopping this afternoon.” A few bolts of magic freed her from her botanical prison. “I know you’re not going to like this, but we need her here again.” “In here? You really want to try the spell again in the library jungle?” “This time we’re doing it outside, in the moonlight.” “What about making sure all the variables and states are right?” “We’ll just have to risk it. If this goes on much longer, I don’t know what’s going to happen.” By the time they stepped outside, the answer was rolling down the street. Rarity was trotting toward the library with her head held high and her horn aglow. She was magically towing a large wooden cart whose ten-foot-tall contents were hidden by a tarp. Her eyes lit up when she saw them. “Spikey Wikey, I’m so glad you’re still awake. I did originally plan on saving this little… err… big surprise for tomorrow morning on Hearts and Hooves Day, but I just couldn’t wait to see the look on your face.” Twilight ran to her. “Rarity, wait, before you show Spike your surprise, I have one last spell to try. It’ll only take a minute.” Rarity’s eyes narrowed. “I have done nothing but wait, Twilight Sparkle, and I won’t do it for much longer. You have precisely one minute; I refuse to delay expressing my feelings a moment longer than that.” “Perfect. Now come sit right here next to Spike in front of the library.” “Gladly. I love what you’ve done with the place, by the way; all of those yellow blossoms complement the classic oak tree look beautifully.” She wrestled Spike away from his book and squeezed him against her shoulder. “Fifty seconds, my Spikey, then you shall see the best Hearts and Hooves Day gift there has ever been.” “Looks awfully big to be a book.” “Oh it’s better than that, so much better.” Twilight gave the exterior of her library a hard look. The vines were everywhere, and yet Rarity had a point. The flowers weren’t blooming randomly; they’d formed awnings over the doors and windows, spirals around the branches, and lace patterns on the walls. “That’s it! That’s the missing piece!” Her horn lit up as she turned to her friends. “This is it. Time to make things right.” Her purple magic encircled Spike, Rarity, and the entire library. Instilling herself with the proper emotion was easy; she wanted nothing more than her normal friends and home back. She needed a vine-free bed to sleep in, and an infatuated Rarity was even worse than an infatuated Spike. The magic aura faded away, and her smile soon followed. Vines and sunflowers still covered the library, Spike’s was still eyeing his book forlornly while Rarity cuddled him, and she could feel a fresh yawn coming on. “What? Why didn’t that work? I had all the key variables!” She stared at the sky at shouted. “I had all the key variables! I calculated everything! I even compensated for seconds until midnight and the phase of the moon! What kind of ‘exactness’ am I missing now?” Rarity hugged Spike tighter and giggled. “Twenty seconds, Twilight, then he’s mine.” Twilight stomped her hoof. “I am so close to saying something I’ll regret, Rar… Wait! What if I’ve been doing this all wrong?” “Fifteen, fourteen…” “I’ve been striving for physical exactness, but that’s not important at all! It doesn’t matter if the distance between the test subjects is perfect. This is an emotion spell; what matters is knowing exactly what emotions are in play, and I’ve been leaving out my own the whole time!” “Five, four…” She turned her horn into a spotlight. “Spike, look at me!” “But I’m just getting to the good par–” “Now! You too, Rarity.” With their gazes fixed on her, Twilight concentrated on how much she wanted her old friends back. “This is either going to undo the spell or level Ponyville: Spike, you’ve had a crush on Rarity since the day you met her. You even told me once, and I Pinkie Promised to keep it a secret, but now it can’t be helped. You do so much trying to win her over in secret that sometimes it hurts me just to see you try. Rarity, Spike is only a friend in your eyes; you’ve never returned his affection, and personally I think you just like having somepony around to do your dirty work and stroke your ego. When you burst in on us this morning, my spell swapped us all around. Rarity got Spike’s crush, Spike got my love of reading, my houseplant got Rarity’s passion for beauty, and I…” She stopped to yawn. “And I got my houseplant’s exhaustion.” A white glow enveloped everything, followed by a small boom felt by the heart and not the ears. Suddenly Twilight was wide awake, and the vines covering the library were gone. Spike and Rarity were seated five feet apart, both blushing profusely. She let out a cheer and clapped her hooves. “I did it! We’re back! Everything’s okay now.” Spike kicked his book away. “Not really.” The full weight of what she’d revealed came rushing back, and her face fell. “I’m so sorry… I’m sorry I broke my promise, and I’m sorry I said all those mean things. That’s just what it took to break the spell.” Rarity gave a wide-eyed nod. “It’s… quite all right, Twilight. At least we’re ourselves again.” Twilight reached a hoof out to Spike, who hadn’t lifted his gaze off the ground. “Spike… are you going to be okay? I’m so sorry I–” “I just need a little time, Twilight, okay?” She shrank back and frowned. “Can… can we talk more tomorrow?” “Yeah… tomorrow.” Rarity cleared her throat. “Twilight, could you give us a moment?” Twilight looked up at the crescent moon. “You can have the whole night if you want. I’ve got a stack of books that I need to send to the restricted section of the Canterlot Library.” “Go ahead. We won’t be long.” Rarity watched Twilight head to the library, take one last look at Spike, and close the door behind her. Next she turned her attention to the little dragon sulking nearby. What could she say to him after not only experiencing his feelings, but parading around with them like a stolen diary? Worst of all was the fresh ache in her heart, a pain that was very much hers, and very much deserved. He glanced at her, opened his mouth, paused, and looked away. “I guess I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.” She gasped. “Why would I ever want that, Spike? You’re my… No, I won’t use that word. You know that I care about you, don’t you?” “And you know… You know how I feel.” She moved some dirt around with a hoof. “Yes. Yes I do. How you feel isn’t what makes it hard to to have this conversation, not compared to everything else Twilight said.” “She was right. I thought you were gorgeous back when we first met. I don’t think I really had a crush on you that far back, but–” “Regardless, Twilight described my behavior quite accurately.” She shut her eyes. “I’ve known about your ‘crush’ for some time now, Spike, and I confess I’ve let myself take advantage of it. It’s a discredit to our friendship that’s entirely my fault.” He sat down on top of his now-closed book and stared at the ground. “I’d still do it all over again.” “Come again?” “I knew you were just leading me on, Rarity, but it was okay. I guess I could just forget about that part once in a while and imagine that we were really getting closer. I was going to drag Twilight out this afternoon so I could buy you a present and everything. It all feels so dumb now.” She glanced up at her gargantuan purchase. “I don’t suppose you’d like to see what I… well… what a very obsessed version of me bought you for Hearts and Hooves Day before I return it? I’m afraid I’d have to take out a mortgage on my shop if I actually let you keep it.” “Sure, why not.” An aura of light blue magic lifted the tarp away. Three huge statues, a red ruby mare and a blue sapphire dragon on either side of a rose quartz heart, caught Spike’s eyes and set his mouth watering. “Wow, Rarity, that looks delicious.” “I knew you’d like it.” He stopped salivating and turned away. “You’d better cover that, I don’t want you to lose your shop just because I can’t help myself.” She replaced the tarp and sat down next to him. “Shall we discuss tomorrow, then?” He sighed. “Don’t worry, I won’t bother you. Just go have a nice day with whoever the lucky stallion is.” She paused. She couldn’t just say goodnight and walk away, not again. How many times had he held a door open for her, or fetched her mail, or served as her pincushion? More importantly, how often had she judged his looks of adoration as simplistic and shallow? The feelings she’d temporarily borrowed from him were just the opposite; they were the sort of feelings that she’d locked out of her own heart, the sort of feelings that she’d long ago dismissed as wishful thinking. “Spike… I have another idea.” “Huh?” “I’ve always known you’ve been attracted to me, but I never genuinely considered your feelings… their sincerity, their depth… even if they were getting a little exaggerated as today wore on. In all honesty, the feelings I experienced today weren’t at all what I expected to find within your heart. If… If you’d be willing to look past the near-callous abuse I’ve put you through for all these years… Would you be willing to give me one little chance to make it up to you? Perhaps tomorrow?” He stared at her with his mouth hanging open. “You mean…” She nodded. “Tomorrow is Hearts and Hooves Day, after all. Would you like to–” He jumped up, bowed, and held out a claw. “Where are my manners? I read three books on chivalry today. My fair lady Rarity, would you do me the honor of being my special somepony for Hearts and Hooves Day?” She blushed and gave him her hoof. “Gladly, my dear Spike.”
