Unintentionally Yours

Unintentionally Yours

By: JusticeSnake

Edited by: PropMaster & Warden Pony

Chapter 1: Yours

//-----------------------------

Another month passed, another successful picnic enjoyed. Spike laid back and scratched his satiated belly. He watched as Twilight levitated her feather duster and gently brushed any debris away from the checkered blanket. Rarity rose from her seated position and stretched in the fading sunlight. Rainbow Dash unfurled her wings and thanked Fluttershy for the garden salad. The timid pegasus smiled in return. Pinkie Pie made quick work of the few remaining chocolate frosted cupcakes. Finally, Applejack retrieved her wicker basket and, through occupied teeth, thanked Twilight for the providing the punch.

“Actually,” said Twilight, turning her head toward her assistant. “It was Spike who prepared the punch this time.”

“Well, I’ll be. Thank ya kindly, Spike!” Applejack nodded in his direction and grinned.

“No need to thank me,” he said. “It was my pleasure. Though it was a shame that Twilight kept me from adding a few rubies to spice up the mix.”

“Spike!” Twilight chastised. “You know that ponies can’t digest gems like that!”

“I know, I know.” Spike rolled his eyes. “But, still, don’t knock ‘till you’ve tried it.”

Twilight huffed and Applejack chuckled. Suddenly, Twilight’s ears perked up and she took a quick glance at the still-stretching Rarity then back to Spike, mumbling something about gems.

“Gems... oh! Hey, Spike!” Twilight called.

“Yeah, Twilight?” he answered.

“Did you know that it was one year ago this week that we confronted the Diamond Dogs?”

Rarity shuddered. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“They seemed alright to me!” Pinkie Pie interrupted, her face covered in chocolate-coated crumbs.

“Yeah, if by ‘alright’, you mean pushovers!” Rainbow Dash reared up on her hind legs and jabbed the air just in front of an unsuspecting Fluttershy, who shrank toward the grass.

Applejack set down her basket and held a hoof out to the frightened pegasus. “I think what Dash here is tryin’ to say is that we all got out of that spot no worse for the wear and that we should all be thankful for it.” She eyed Dash accusingly. “Right RD?”

“Yeah, whatever you say, AJ.” Rainbow Dash smirked as she came back down to all fours and helped Fluttershy up. A mischievous grin replaced the sheepish smirk, “Hey Applejack.”

“Yeah?” Applejack replied.

“Remember when Spike almost planted a big wet one on you when he went fishing for fashionistas?”

Spike’s eyes widened as his purple cheeks flushed.

“Er—” Applejack trailed, her eyes darting, unsure of where to settle.

“Yeah, he was probably daydreaming about Rarity, too!” Pinkie Pie added with hefty laughter.

“Beg pardon?” Rarity glanced about, perplexed.

“Alright guys, leave Spike alone.” Twilight patted her paralyzed assistant on the head, a small smile on her face. “Besides, it’s getting late. We should finish packing up and call it a day.”

“Yeah, sounds good, Twi.” Applejack nodded as she bit down on the basket handle and lifted it up. “Good night, ya’ll!” she called as she headed toward Sweet Apple Acres.

“Goodnight girls!” said Twilight as she and Spike made their way back toward their home in the Library tree.

Yeah, good night indeed. Spike grumbled as his cheeks cooled down.

Heedless of his frustrations, the week wore on.

Was it the copious consumption of gems that kept him restless? Was it the residual memory of the events of that day long passed that kept him awake? Spike held his breath, as if to confront some deep, dark revelation: Was it the kiss that never was? Hardly a revelation, whatever that is, he tried to argue with himself. He resisted the urge to rise from his bed and nudge Twilight awake to give him a definition for the word. He shrugged and decided to release the matter. Such was the nature of working with Twilight; learning many new words and contexts, though rarely learning of their purpose.

His mind then wandered on the subject of purpose. He recalled a lecture from Princess Celestia: Everything has a purpose and things never happen without reason. Even chaos itself settles down in the end.

If that was so, wondered Spike, then what was the purpose of that awkward moment with Applejack? Why did it happen at all? More specifically, he dared wonder, why didn’t it happen? The sands of time, from that moment, blew softly on. Days melted into the warm months of summer, followed by the chill of the closing winter. It barely registered to either one of them that one whole year had passed in Equestria since then.

That dog and pony show seemed as if it had passed only yesterday. As much as he dared wonder, he did not dare ask aloud. Wise as she was, Twilight was certainly not a candidate for this kind of question. She hardly believed that he stood a chance with Rarity, a pony he had been waiting on scale and claw for a long time. There was a time when he thought he was convinced that she would see how much he adored her, maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but some day. At some point, his heart would have gladdened at the thought. Now, he was not so sure. He closed his eyes and remembered the fantasy, his flowing crimson cape, her fine satin dress and soft, waiting lips. He bent down low to meet them. The snow-white texture of those lips slowly mingled with his own, the warmth of his chest becoming a poetic inferno, cascading countless cantos with every beat.

Dream or not, it felt real, and he chanced a glance at the vision of Lady Rarity, her eyes adrift with passion. Instead, the lips he longed for no longer held their pale hue, but instead undertook an orange vibrance. Deep purple, luxurious mane melted away to reveal golden locks kept tame by a faux-hide Stetson. Closed eyes shot open, offering not the deep azure that Spike was expecting, but the brilliant sheen of emeralds.

“Gah!” Spike’s real eyes snapped open as he jumped from his bed, having since outgrown the old wicker basket of his younger days. Wow, thought Spike as he glanced toward the window. It was now morning and the sun flooded the Library with its refreshing rays. With a groan, Spike stretched on all fours, his claws grating into the hardwood, a bad habit he had grown into. The new bed was quite an adjustment for the young dragon, who now stood nearly snout-to-snout with Twilight. She, as usual, was awake downstairs, preparing their breakfast before opening the library to their ill-used services once more. She had taken no notice of Spike’s sudden gasp, but strolled from the kitchen, her horn aglow and their breakfast held aloft.

Wearily, Spike made his way downstairs, catching Twilight’s attention. “Good morning, Spike!” she called cheerfully. Carefully, Twilight settled the warm meal down on the table. “It’s one of your favourites.” Twilight gestured to the stack of buttermilk pancakes, crowned with a dab of butter and smothered in rich maple syrup. The smell gently wafted into Spike’s nostrils before he realized his hunger. Not another word was spoken, their mouths too full to carry conversation.

Applejack yawned for the third time that hour, the bags under her eyes were fading, but still noticeable. That did not distract from her work, however, as—unlike Rarity—she could function without worrying about how she looked. Still, Applejack’s fatigue was beginning to weigh on her. Were it not for the sudden onset of those bewildering dreams and sleepless nights, she would have been right as rain and apple-bucking would have been a welcomed task, rather than a job that needed getting done. Normally, she would have shrugged, laughed, or rolled her eyes at such silly things, but this was beginning to take away from her sleep and her work by extension. As any mature mare would do, she would find the underlying cause of it and nip it at the bud, as Granny Smith used to say. But what needed nipping? She thought deeper and focused on the dreams as she bucked the next apple tree. Her mind wandered into yesteryear. That incident with Rarity’s capture was traumatic, though nothing had gone sour-apple on them. The Diamond Dogs were pushovers and Rarity had proven to be quite resourceful, much to Applejack’s surprise. She ruled out the stress of the day and explored the content of her dreams. She recalled seeing green and purple, sharp fangs and gentle, wanting eyes. Of pursed lips and of the shock she felt. She thought of Spike nearing his face to hers. Then, she struck the chord that had been keeping her up for three-quarters of the night: she dreamt of kissing him back. Each time she had these dreams, they had gotten more and more vivid. Worse, they had become less objectionable with each passing month. Worse still, she felt as if she was beginning to—

“No!” She shouted, shaking her head and giving the poor tree one final buck, ridding it of not only its apples, and all of its leaves.

“Sis?” Apple Bloom tilted her head to one side, bright amber eyes blinking with confusion. Before her was her elder sister, bucking the life out of the old tree, huffing and puffing, her face beet red. It took a moment before Applejack noticed the filly, her school saddlebag packed, red mane brushed and bow primmed. Over the months, Apple Bloom had grown taller, but had changed very little.

Applejack lowered her head. “Oh, morning....”

“What’s got you up in a tizzy?”

“Oh”—Applejack’s face threatened to flush once more—“just a dream I had is all. Somethin’ I need to figure out.”

Apple Bloom beamed at the idea of helping her sister. “Maybe I can help you! If I can help you figure out what’s bothering you, then maybe I’ll discover my special talent and—”

“Maybe get your Cutie Mark,” Applejack finished with a chuckle. “Well, I’m not so sure about my particular problem, but maybe ya’ll can help me gather up some help on how to solve it, sugarcube.”

“Sure thing, sis!”—Apple Bloom bounced with possibilities—“What do you need me to do? Gather herbs? Perform enhanced interrogations?”

“No and no”—Applejack shook her head—“What in tarnation would ya’ll need to interrogate somepony for?”

“Answers!” Apple Bloom said matter-of-factly. “Duh!”

At this, Applejack simply rolled her eyes. She tried to give her little sister a hard look, but was too tired to pursue it. Instead, she decided to suggest a more passive route that would keep Apple Bloom out of trouble.

“I need you, lil’ sis, to head on over to Twilight Sparkle’s big ol’ library on your way to school and put a couple of books on reserve for me.”

Apple Bloom tilted her head and asked, “What’re you needin’ books for? I thought you were done school?”

“I know,” said Applejack with a sigh, not wanting to elaborate on her particular situation any more than she had to, especially one involving hormones and the like. However, she would not have time to continue her bucking and get those books before the bucking was done. As the Element of Honesty, she could stretch the truth, find loopholes but she could not outright lie to her filly of a sister. Still, she needed answers, lest her sleep schedules forever suffer and her apple bucking suffer as a result.

Apple Bloom curiously waited for an answer, but knew that she would probably never get it, at least, not now. Instead, she saw the bags under her sister’s eyes, the fatigue that they enclosed, and the mussed mane that so usually kept a natural sheen seemed dull and lifeless. With a weak smile, Apple Bloom neared her sister and placed a reassuring hoof on Applejack’s forelimb. “It’s alright, big sis. I may not understand your per-dicament, but I’ll help you all the same, ‘cause that’s what Apple Sisters do!” Apple Bloom dug through her school saddlebag, pulled out a paper pad and a nifty pencil. The utensil she clenched between her teeth and the pad she held steady in her tiny hoof.

Applejack returned the smile and gave her sister an affectionate nuzzle. “Thank you, sugarcube.”

Beaming, Apple Bloom asked through clenched teeth, “Now, what’s it you need from that library?”

Applejack facehoove’d. What references would she need in order to study dreams? Was there even such a thing as a dream guide? Only one way to find out, she mused. “When you get there, Apple Bloom, I reckon you’d ask Twilight to put on reserve any copy of dream-explanation-book-thingies that she has in stock and tell her that I’ll come pick ‘em up I’m done workin’ here.”

By the time Applejack had begun her dictation, Gingerly, she had written in untidy scrawl:

Books - Dream-explanation-guide-thingies.

She waited for the list to continue and saw that Applejack was hesitating. Apple Bloom crooked an eyebrow but said nothing.

“One more thing and that’s it, I reckon,” continued Applejack slowly, ignoring her sister. The filly held her pencil poised and ready.

“Dragons,” said the orange mare, quietly. “Any books on dragons.”

“D-r-a-g-o-n-s,” Apple Bloom spelled from behind clenched teeth as she jotted the subject down. Her eyes shot upward and her ears perked. “Dragons? Why dragons, sis?”

Applejack fought the pending embarrassment. Her little sister was clever and it would not take long for this conversation to become seriously awkward.

“Dragons and dream guides,” Apple Bloom repeated as she read over her short list. “Are you having dreams about dragons, sis?”

Applejack said not a word, but nodded slowly, unable to make eye contact with her sibling. The younger pressed, “Are they scary dreams? Are dragons trying to eat you? Are you scared?” The filly’s eager mind raced with worry.

“Oh, they’re scary all right.” Applejack rolled her eyes. I wish the dragon was trying to eat me–that’d be so much simpler to handle. Death by dragon I can deal with. Kissing one, I simply can’t.

Apple Bloom tried to ask more questions, but Applejack halted her in her tracks. “Time to head on over to Cheerilee’s class, A.B. Don’t forget to leave that list for Twilight!” With a gentle nudge in Ponyville’s direction, she sent her sister away. Apple Bloom offered no resistance, but gave her sister one last look over her shoulder before trotting on her way down the path.

Applejack melded her sigh of relief with a tired yawn before picking up her apple cart and moving on to the next tree.

When they had eaten, Twilight sat in silence while Spike gathered the dishes, preparing them for the wash. He wondered what had stayed her tongue, which by now would have been listing off the day’s deeds, chores and ultimate bores for the young dragon. This morning had indeed been different, and Spike then pondered the very reason pancakes were the day’s special first meal. This was Twilight Sparkle’s way of delivering such news and Spike bode his time until she found her words.

“Spike,” she finally called to him when he was nearly done with the laborious scrubbing.

“On my way, Twilight!” Spike responded, drying his claws. He then skittered into the foyer. “What’s up?” He asked. He noted the saddlebags that sat next to the main doorway, completely packed and prepared. Twilight hesitated, but Spike pressed, his voice dropping to a concerned tone, “Going somewhere?”

“Spike,” began Twilight, “Princess Celestia has summoned me to Canterlot for the week, for Royal business.” She motioned to the saddlebags and Spike nodded slowly, waiting for further explanation. “Of what that business is, I can’t say, but I can’t leave the library unattended. Ergo, I have decided to delegate that responsibility to you, Spike, my number one assistant.”

Spike breathed a sigh of relief and said with a grin, “Oh, okay, Twilight.” His shoulders slumped as if those heavy saddlebags were lifted from his charge, “I thought you were going to do something important and leave me here alone forever!”

Twilight crooked her eyebrow and said, “This is important, Spike! I am leaving and I need you to oversee the management of this place while I’m absent!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Spike waved off her concerns. “You have me do all the chores anyways, so what’s signing out a few books here and there to add to my dull daily routine?”

“Spike—” Twilight offered, though to no avail.

“I mean, it’s not like business is going to skyrocket for the mere week you’re gone.”

“Spike—”

“And that means I can do whatever I want!” The dragon nearly giggled with excitement.

“Spike!” Twilight shouted, knocking her assistant out of his stupor. “It may not seem like much to you, but this place is important to me! We have a responsibility to this library and to Ponyville and I will not have this sacred service squandered by your swashbuckling idiosyncrasies!”

Spike simply stared at the youthful mare, her breathing still drawn and deep. “Uh, what and the what now?”

At this, Twilight deflated and spoke softly, “I mean it Spike.”

“You mean it, I just don’t get it.”

She gave him a stern look, laced with pleading. “What I mean is that I need you to be more responsible than usual, something I know you are capable of doing, Spike. Just look after the library while I’m away.”

Spike smiled and gave his best friend a tight hug. “I know, Twilight. This means a lot to you and I’ll respect your wishes. It means a lot to me as well, for even allowing me to have this opportunity.”

At last, Twilight smiled warmly and returned the embrace. “Thank you, Spike. I know you won’t let me down.”

“Besides,” he continued, “what’s the worst that could happen after just a week, eh?”

Loss of books. Loss of library. Loss of Ponyville. No. She derailed the process and settled on the pleasantly uneventful return to the quiet tree and her life of studies. At that, she levitated her saddlebags on to her bag.

“See you later, Spike!” She waved a hoof and offered a final warm glance before leaving the library and shutting the door behind her. What awaited Twilight in Canterlot, Spike could only fathom. What he could fathom, however, was the state of the kitchen in the wake of Twilight’s culinary adventures and the amount of soap needed to cleanse it all to purity.

The morning had long finished by the time Spike had completed his various task, the last of which consisted of sorting the dry dishes. As he placed the last of the plates into its waiting home, his eyes fell upon a basket that sat near the window before the sink. Cradled within its wicker weaves were half a dozen apples. He sniffed their fragrance and licked his lips. Though dragons will consume anything, apples were not a common fare. Spike enjoyed the crunchy and juicy combination. Though it was not the quality of the apples that drew his attention to them, but rather, who had delivered them.

Sweet Apple Acres always delivered a dozen or so apples to replenish the basket on Applejack’s weekly rounds to Ponyville proper. As soon as the thought of the Acres entered his mind, Spike’s dream had come with it and he thought once more of Applejack, who ran the farm’s orchards. His chest warmed and the sensation felt familiar. When he had first laid eyes on Rarity that feeling was not so much a warm fuzzy as it had been a jarring inferno, but the stoking of the little fire flickered nonetheless, familiar. Questions flooded him once more: the why’s, the how’s, the what-if’s. Why had this become such a profound hook on his mind? Applejack had never shown any interest in him at all, and that was unlikely to change.

Kind? Yes.

Gentle? Absolutely.

Suddenly wanting to kiss a dragon? Unthinkable. Even Rarity would no doubt reject a kiss from him and his attention was bent on achieving just that! Why would Applejack, one who would not hesitate to dismiss the juvenile tendencies of the dragon, one who shared little to no actual ‘chemistry,’ with him suddenly be unshakeably sewn into his mind.

She did not want to kiss you, Spike. It was an accident, Spike. You’re being irrational, Spike! These lines he repeated, hoping to condition himself to the truth.

But was it the truth? That prospect alone had ruined the conditioning and worse, had delayed his chores.

“Chores!” he shouted happily to the empty foyer of the Ponyville Public Library. Chores would help him settle down. And for the first time, Spike actually welcomed the prospect of breaking his back for the temporary superficial tidiness befitting of a public education service. He hopped up onto the checkout counter, feather duster in hand.

“Now I may be a filly, but I’ve never seen anypony happy to do chores. Ever.” The young voice startled Spike’s blood to freezing and his heart to skip a beat. He looked about, but could not trace the source of it.

“Down here, Spike.” It took a moment for Spike to realize that he had been standing on the counter and thus looked down to see Apple Bloom looking up at him.

“Oh, hey there, Apple Bloom. Long-time-no-see, eh?”

Apple Bloom merely nodded as she pulled something from her school saddlebag. As Spike hopped down, he was able to study it further. Clutched within her jaws was a single sheet of paper, childish scribbling inscribed across it.

“What’s this for?” asked Spike as he took the offered paper and read its contents.

“My big sister wants to know if there are any books that match the what’s on that there list.”

“Dream guides?” Spike glanced at Apple Bloom, who simply shrugged. The second item on the list struck him like a hoof to the back of the head, jarring him for but a moment.

“Dragons too?”

Apple Bloom nodded and said. “Odd, I know. But she’s been actin’ weird all mornin’, so I offered to help. All she really needed help with was the delivery of this list of books to Miss Twilight so she can find ‘em and hold on to ‘em until my sis gets here later on this evenin’.”

Weird, thought Spike. Why would she need dream guides and dragon information? Might as well ask.

“Why would Applejack need these?”

“Beats the pears outa me,” responded Apple Bloom, “She looks like she hasn’t slept a wink. I think she’s having dragon nightmares or somethin’.”

“Dragon nightmares? That does sound strange,” Spike mused.

“Anyway, I have to head to school now, so can I get you to leave that list for Twilight Sparkle?”

Spike he placed the list upon the counter. “Twilight’s not here right now and will she won’t be for an entire week, but I’ll see to Applejack’s books.”

Apple Bloom smiled softly back and said, “That’s mighty kind of you, Spike.” She looked at him and held his gaze for the moment. Then she said, “I wonder if all dragons are as nice as you.”

At that, Apple Bloom left and skipped on her way to school.

I wonder that myself, Spike thought as he took the list in his claws and walked toward the ‘D’ section of the library.

In total, the pile had reached seventeen books, texts, tomes and tablets, all on dreams, their meanings, and dragons of all kinds. There was a particular novel titled ‘Draconian Dreams,’ though that was a work of fiction, and a poor one at that. Twilight’s impending disappointment and fury at Spike having abused any book, regardless of content, had alone spared the tripe from destruction. Spike gazed about the stack and scratched his ridged head, wondering if she would have the time to sort through all of these references amid her usually busy schedule. He also wondered what she was specifically looking for.

Was she having dreams about... him? But, Apple Bloom described her sister as looking like she had woken from a nightmare. Had he traumatized her with that day’s almost-kiss? That thought stayed with him until the sun had begun to dip behind the western mountains while the moon had begun to peek from behind the mountains that cradled Canterlot. The hours drifted and Spike’s eyes became heavy.

“Oh, Spike!” The voice touched his ears and he cherished it, savored it, despite the worry it vented.

“I knew you would save me!”

Spike the warrior dragon had muscled his large frame into the threshold, casting the twisted iron bars that once denied his passage away. Once through, his eyes found the source of the voice: Rarity. The walls of living rock and unsettled dirt dared not tarnish the vision that stood before him. In royal linens and soft fabrics was she adorned. The complexion of her alabaster coat glowed amid the darkness. She smiled at him. Her gentle azure eyes washed over him and his of blazing emerald shone ever-brighter. With a low bow, Spike responded to her with but a whisper. “Nothing could stop me, milady.”

At this, the vision of Lady Rarity flushed and batted her eyelids. “Oh, Spike,” she said once more. “You’re my hero.” Then, as if summoned to courage, the Lady Rarity leaned forward and pressed her soft lips together, offering Spike his warrior’s reward.

This, he motioned to receive as he too began to lean forward, his lips moist and ready for hers. The dragon inched closer to his love, their union pending and separated by only a mere breath!

“Whoa-ho, there, loverboy!” The vision of Lady Rarity gave way at that moment. Her voice, as a birdsong, was scattered and replaced by another, raucous and accented. Spike the warrior dragon ceased then to be the mighty knight of Holy Canterlot, but simply: Spike, the purple dragon. In his arms was not the sharpened lance, but the wooden fishing pole, laden with bait. His lips, though pursed together and waiting to receive his true love’s first kiss found nothing but the air that was once occupied by—

Applejack! Spike’s eyes shot open to meet the surprised, yet gently smiling green eyes of Ponyville’s own earthen orange farming pony. She had, indeed, taken a step back lest her lips meet that of the fantasizing dragon. Yet, she smiled to him all the same, even returning to her previous spot as Spike recoiled in embarrassment. He offered an apologetic grin, and no words were required of either friend. 'Water under the bridge', as would be said in Ponyville.

Spike returned to his original focus, the baiting of the Diamond Dogs; the discovery of their lair and the rescue of his own vision of perfection, whom he feared trapped. His mind raced and the sweat began to seep through his scales, and before long the awkward moment with Applejack had become outdated, seemingly forgotten between mare and dragon.

A sharp tug broke his concentration and he fell forward.

A gentle rapping sounded throughout the hollow tree, waking Spike from his uneasy slumber. He found that his snout was pressed to the hardwood. Startled, he jumped to his feet only to realize that he had laid down for a nap upon the empty bucket previously used to mop the floor, subsequently falling on his face. The aluminum can stuck to him as he abruptly rose, halting his efforts to answer the door, from which another rapid round of gentle rapping resounded.

“Coming!” Spike shouted as he hobbled forward, attempting to pull himself free of the three-gallon prison. He finally reached the door and turned the knob. He looked up and saw the tall, strong orange figure of honest Applejack. From under her wide hat, heavy green eyes met his.

Despite the fatigue that weighed upon them, she smiled. “Howdy, Spike. Sorry I’m coming in so late, been buckin’ apples and all.” It was then that she noticed Spike’s predicament and tried to stifle the laughter that welled within her exhausted self. To no avail, she chuckled as Spike offered her a deflated glare.

“Oh please,” he said flatly.

“Here, lemme lend ya a hoof.” Before Spike could spurt smoke at the idea, he was lifted from the ground. With a firm shake and audible pop, he was loose from the evil bucket’s entrapment. Laughter still shone in Applejack’s eyes and Spike could not help but chuckle at his own misfortune. If she seemed stiff before, Applejack had certainly relaxed a little.

Clearing her throat, Applejack said, “So, I hear that Twi’s left for a little while. Apple Bloom couldn’t say where she’s run off to in such a hurry.”

“Royal business in Canterlot, she told me.” Answered Spike.

The farm pony cocked her head to one side, which reminded Spike of Apple Bloom’s own countenance. He had to smile to himself at how oddly endearing it was to see a full-grown mare doing the same thing. “Wouldn’t she be needing your help if she had royal business to attend to?”

“Nah,” the dragon responded. “Twilight can handle herself without me and vice-versa. She did leave me in charge of the library while she’s gone.”

Applejack nodded. “That’s quite a haystack-full of responsibility there, Spike. Twi must really trust you, ‘cause I know how much this place means to her.”

“It’s hard work,” Spike said with a dismissive wave. “But, I’m willing to do it just to see my friend happy, you know?” Applejack smiled warmly at him for a moment, maybe two. Silence settled between them as Spike rapidly found himself without words. Applejack scratched the back of her head, suddenly quite itchy.

“Speaking of stack…” she finally offered, motioning to the pile of books on the otherwise spotless countertop.

“Yes! Your books!” Spike barked with a bright toothy grin. “That’s why you’re here after all.”

“Darn-tootin’.” Applejack chuckled, regaining her composure. “Whatcha got for me?”

Spike jumped onto the counter with relative ease, despite his growing legs and Applejack trotted over next to him. Not too close, but enough to scrutinize his work. And what work he had done, thoroughly. He must not have missed a single book on the subjects she had desired to research. There were seventeen books, all on the topics of either dreams or dragons. She glanced at Spike and said, “All of these from just two items?”

“Eeyup, and not a single one passed over. I doubled-checked for you.”

“Thank you, Spike.” Applejack grinned. “But, I don’t know how I’ll be able to find the answers I’m searchin’ for if I have to rifle through all these.”

Spike placed his claws on his hips and simply said, “I’ll help you, if you want.”

Applejack hesitated again. Given the nature of her reoccurring dreams she considered the ramifications of involving the one person that invaded them in on her little turmoil.

“I don’t know, Spike—” she began. “It’s kinda personal.”

Spike’s eyes lost a bit of their shine when she said that. “It’s alright, AJ. I understand.”

Silence interfered once more. Spike decided to break it this time. “I don’t intend to pry, Applejack, but when your sister gave me the list, she also told me that you’ve been having dragon nightmares.”

“She said that?” Applejack raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she did. She sounded worried, too. That kinda got me worked up as well.”

Applejack’s other eyebrow joined the first. “You’re worried about me?”

“Yes,” Spike admitted, his emerald eyes lowering to the floor, “I’m worried because I think it’s my fault you’re having nightmares about dragons. From what I hear, those can keep you up all night.”

Applejack chuckled. “Not all night. But, a mite close to it.” Spike’s shoulders drooped a little, but Applejack quickly added, “And no, I would’nt blame my nightmares on you, sugarcube.” Spike looked up at her to see her green eyes softening as she continued, “I reckon that I couldn’t call ‘em nightmares either.”

Spike’s mind halted at this and he stammered a response, “But I thought—and Apple Bloom said—but you looked so down—”

Applejack raised a hoof to his mouth, hushing him to silence. She smiled with a friendly sheen in her eyes, saying, “I think we owe one another an explanation for what happened that day last year.”

Applejack’s memory of that day was as clear as a mountain spring. The events replayed themselves vividly in her mind and in her dreams.

Calm down, filly, she reasoned with herself as she watched Spike intently, Nothing happened, just get ready to jump when those doggies take the bait.

Spike has a clever plan, Applejack admired silently. He’s willin’ to go to so much trouble just to help that ol’ crush of his.

For the moment, Applejack could not help but cross her admiration with a hint of sadness, for she knew Rarity, and she knew the lack of interest the fashionista had given her little purple-scaled suitor. Every pony in Ponyville, if not Equestria was, by now, fully aware of the dragon’s love of the pompous lady mare. Applejack sighed heavily with her thoughts drifting downward, into the depths of that tunnel. She thought, how could Rarity not see it? It’s as plain as pie to me, an’ I can’t rightly claim to be the observant type. All of those efforts by Spike had been for nothing and that nearly broke the earth pony’s heart. In that same moment, while Applejack was looking in the little dragon’s direction, she wished that somepony would offer her at least half as much affection. No stallion in Ponyville had ever given her the time of day. Perhaps they were scared off by her effortless apple-bucking and short temper. Perhaps she felt that she was not very beautiful to begin with.

Applejack silently huffed away her jealousy. A sour taste settled on her tongue, for she greatly disliked the notion of being envious of Rarity.

Alas, she felt the sting of the green-eyed monstrosity that was her envious heart. At that, she could not help herself from smiling at the tireless dragon. Humming gently to himself, Spike sat along the edge of the tunnel’s maw, patiently training his weighted line, his eyes narrowed, focused.

Applejack’s musings were broken as a sharp tug pulled the fishing string taut. Spike quickly clutched the pole, desperately fighting the strength set against him. He suddenly lost his footing and was dragged entirely into the pit, and he would have been lost forever, had Applejack not been paying attention to him.

Rarity would indeed be rescued, though at no point was she in any danger. Diamond Dogs defeated, gem carts fully loaded, and friends homeward bound, all had settled in the realm of Equestria.

Spike indeed understood what she spoke of and could not verbally answer, given the mare’s hoof pressed against his lips. It was then that he noticed the faint scent of fresh earth, grass and apples upon her coat. It made his nostrils warm up, casting steam from his chest, rising upward. A grumbling in his stomach suddenly reminded him that he had slept through dinner and he made a quick mental note to raid the fridge once he had seen to Applejack’s departure. Though, that departure was unknown, for that same hoof did not leave his lips, and the smell did not recede, and the shine from Applejack’s eyes did not fade.

Instead, he nodded to her statement. At that, the soft hoof was lowered and the subtle smell released him. When at last he could speak, he said, “I agree, AJ. I just don’t want things to get weird, you know?”

“And why would they get weird?” she asked pointedly, and Spike was unsure of what to make of it. His stomach growled once more, this time with such a cacophony that Applejack’s ears perked in its direction. “Hungry?” she added with a playful smirk.

“Starving,” was the dragon’s reply.

“Well, then,” Applejack began. “I think I’ve thought of the perfect way to get the explainin’ done.”

“I don’t follow,” Spike said.

“Ever try to explain something important on an empty stomach?” she offered.

“Once,” answered Spike, “It didn’t end well and I nearly ate the clipboard I was given to explain myself with.”

Applejack just laughed. To hear that light chuckle made Spike feel rewarded, as if he had performed a great deed. It felt good to make her laugh, better than trying to get more than a sniff out of Rarity. He felt his heart sink slightly at that truth.

“To answer your question, AJ, I was planning on raiding the fridge once I had helped you. Of course, if you need help carrying all of them to the farm, then I’d be more than happy to eat later.” Spike was sincere in his helpfulness, despite the growling of his empty stomach.

“I’m charmed Spike, I really am. Not a whole lot of gents like you around these parts, that’s for sure.” Applejack nodded in approval.

“Not the first time an Apple’s said that to me today. I might just start to believe it.”

Applejack chuckled once more as she thought of Apple Bloom and her so-called ‘secret crush’ on the same purple dragon that stood before her. Hearing her little sister talking about Spike so much, she often wondered why he hadn’t picked up on it. Then again, Spike’s infatuation with Rarity was known wholesale to everypony, save the fashionista herself.

Applejack shook herself back to reality and exchanged glances between the hungry dragon and the pile of books behind him. “Spike,” she began.

“Yes, Applejack?” Spike’s stomach rumbled once more.

“I hate to put all this effort to waste, but I don’t think I’ll be needing all of these books.”

“Understandable,” was Spike’s reply. “Which ones do you think you’ll be needing? We have ‘Rhump and Rumples Guide to Dreams,’ ‘The Hitchhiking Pony’s Guide to the Mind’s Galaxy’, ‘General Gerribald’s General Instructions on Dreams’, ‘Hughford Humpback’s Whale Sized Dream Dictionary’…. The list went on until Spike finished at ‘Dragonheart: A Complete Guide to Known Draconian Magiks’. It was the thinnest of the selection.

“Uh, I can’t choose,” admitted Applejack after the list was complete. Spike’s shoulders slumped again.

“Want me to just pick what I think Twilight would pick?”

“Wouldn’t that mean all of ‘em?” Applejack grinned weakly.

“Oh yeah,” Spike realized, flatly. “I’ll give you that one.”

“I’m sorry, Spike, I can’t seem to decide.” Applejack gave Spike a pleading look.

This look was nearly impossible for the dragon to deny and so he simply offered, “Eenie-meenie-minie-moe?”

“Sounds fair,” said the farm mare, shrugging. “Whittle it down to one dream book and one dragon book and we’ll call it a night.” And thus, the dragon began his academic process of elimination.

‘Hughford Humpback’s Whale Sized Dream Dictionary’ and the ‘Dragonheart’ book were all that remained. Spike took a long look at the other books and then back to Applejack. With a shake of her head, Applejack’s intentions were clear and Spike simply shoved them into the empty returns bin. He would see to them later.

“Thank you for your time, Spike. I really appreciate it.” Applejack smiled, placing a hoof on his shoulder. The smell of earth and apples returned and Spike smiled back.

Applejack tried to speak, but something held her tongue.

Spike chimed in, saying, “You mentioned earlier that you had an idea about how to get to our explanation for what happened? We kinda trailed off a bit.”

“Oh yes!” Applejack flushed in embarrassment, for she rarely lost track of things like that. “My idea was to, er, invite ya over for dinner.”

Spike’s heart stopped, though his stomach did not, “D-dinner? With you?”

“Well,” Applejack quickly added, “with the entire Apple family. We always eat late and Granny Smith and Big Macintosh have the helm in the kitchen tonight, and he always makes too much, and we’d love to have you over, honest.”

“Then should we talk about it… in front of all of them?” Spike enjoyed the idea of a home-cooked Apple Family meal, but not the idea of explaining the almost-kiss to them. Assuming that was what Applejack wanted to talk about.

“No!” Applejack nearly cut him completely off. “No, not in front of them. I don’t want any of them gettin’ the wrong idea.”

“Okay, but when?”

“Tonight. We’ll get this out of the way, then move on with our lives,” said Applejack.

“If that means both of us can sleep again, then I’m game,” Spike replied.

“Sounds like a plan!” Applejack replied. “We should probably shake on it.”

“Agreed.” Spike nodded and held out an open hand, ready to shake.

“Actually”—Applejack stared at the dragon’s hand for a moment—“I reckon we’ll need something a bit more… binding.”

Spike glared and said, “I am not signing a contract.”

“No, something more meaningful…” She smiled at him, a smile he could not decipher.

“Do you mean a…” Spike began to flush. Was he ready for this? They were going to discuss this very thing and Applejack was wanting to—

She reared her golden-maned head back with a gurgle and lunged forward, with a spitooey, casting a glob of saliva onto her own hoof, extending it outward.

—Spit-shake.

With a sigh of relief, the dragon retracted his hand and spit a fair glob of his own. The pony and dragon met their limbs in the middle and gave a good, firm shake. The deal was set.

By the time Applejack and Spike had reached the humble home of the Apple Clan, dinner bell was ringing and the meal was already well underway. Honey-roasted almond salad with apple dressing, apple cobbler roast, garnished with apple syrup, and for dessert, orange meringue pie fresh from the oven. The wafting warmth of the spread licked at Spike’s nostrils and his mouth began to moisten with anticipation.

“Whogoesthere!” Granny Smith pointed a wobbling hoof at the window in front of her. Applejack and Spike had entered from the door behind her. “Are the gryphons invading again?”

“No, Granny.” Big Mac steadied her. “The gryphons have never invaded and are welcome in these parts.” As he settled Granny Smith down, Big Mac gave a stern glance toward his sister. “Applejack, you were supposed to be here half an hour ago.”

“I never said when I would be back, Big Macintosh,” Applejack tried to argue.

“Eeyup, you did. You said you’d be right back in time for dinner. You’re lucky Apple Family grub is kept warm by the love of family, even in family’s delay.”

“And a really hot stove,” added Apple Bloom, who waved and smiled at Spike. The dragon returned the gesture, waving back.

Applejack lowered her eyes to the floor and said, “All right, I messed up, but I’m here now and I brought a hungry mouth to feed, so let’s be gracious and not let the guy starve.”

Big Mac looked down to meet Spike’s eye, no readable expression on his red-coated visage, bright eyes searching. “The dragon, Spike is it?”

“Yes, sir,” returned Spike with a nod.

Big Mac’s expression softened as he chuckled deeply. “No need for that ‘sir’ stuff here, Spike. Big Mac’s fine.”

“Thank you, Big Mac. We’ve met before, however briefly.”

Big Mac straightened up in his seat and nodded, saying, “I reckon we’ll remedy our strangerhood in short order. Please, join us, both a’ ya’ll.”

Both Spike and Applejack took empty spaces at the table. Spike took a spoonful into his mouth and Big Mac spoke once more, “I can’t remember the last time Applejack brought a date over to meet us.”

Spike nearly inhaled his slice of cobbler and Applejack’s cheeks swelled with cider that she tried her hardest not to spit across the table.

Apple Bloom crossed her limbs and said, “She’s never brought a date over, Big Mac. This is the first time, and an interesting choice she’s made.” Glares were exchanged between the sisters while Granny Smith happily slurped her cider with lip-smacking satisfaction.

“I’ll have ya’ll know,” began Applejack, red in the face, “that Spike and I ain’t sweet and by no means is he here for your viewing. We are friends and nothin’ more.”

Spike said nothing, his voracious appetite suddenly vanished.

“We ain’t judgin’ ya, AJ—”

“Some of us are.” Apple Bloom’s frown deepened.

“Enough, Apple Bloom,” Big Mac cautioned.

“You’re sweet on a gryphon?”

“You too, Granny.” Big Mac turned to his grandmother before looked back to Applejack. “We’re just wishin’ you would let us know when ya are comin’ home and who ya’ll are bringin’ so we can prepare.”

“Yeah, prepare to retch.”

“That’s it, Apple Bloom, to your room!” Applejack shouted.

“Watch out! The walls have teeth!”

“I think it’s time for you to get on to bed, Granny.” The exchange ended as abruptly as it began. Apple Bloom stomped away, Granny Smith tried to open the grandfather clock, missing her bedroom door next to it. Big Mac sighed heavily and said, “Please excuse me, Spike. I have to help Granny on her way.” The large red stallion rose from his seat and cantered over to the perplexed old mare.

“I think I found the bomb shelter, deary.”

“Yes, you did, Granny. Now please take my hoof and we’ll get you to bed.”

“Such a good colt,” mumbled the Apple matriarch, “make your ma and pa proud, you would.”

For a long time, only Spike and Applejack sat together at the table. Spike simply eyed his food; Applejack prodded her salad with her fork. With heavy eyes, Applejack sent a glance toward the dragon, who raised his head and met it. “I’m sorry, Spike. I didn’t think this would happen.”

“It’s fine, AJ,” Spike reassured her, “you’re a family. These things happen only for us to laugh at it later.”

Applejack nodded in consideration. “Yeah, I reckon ya’re right on the core, there, Spike.”

“In fact”—Spike smiled—“I think I’ll save us some time and laugh at it right now.” With that, a heaving guttural chortling sounded forth from Spike’s open maw. His belly rippled and his fangs shone under the wan lighting of the Apple House. This display, so strange in of itself, caused Applejack to begin her own string of laughter, her guilt melting away.

“Still hungry?” asked the mare to the dragon.

“I think I found my appetite, yeah.” Spike grinned as he dove into his waiting cobbler.

“So you think Apple Bloom will be alright?” Spike asked with genuine concern.

“Oh, she’s a mite stubborn, but she’ll be right as rain in spring before long.” Applejack wiped some lingering salad from her lips with a stroke from her hoof. The pair walked along the moonlit hills of the orchard, toward the single apple tree that overlooked the dirt road leading into Ponyville.

“She didn’t seem too happy to see me,” Spike mused.

“Oh, her mind just jumps to conclusions before she can really think about what she’ seein’.” Applejack rolled her eyes. “In other words, she’ll be over it quicker than a rattlesnake across the desert floor.”

Spike shivered at the thought of rattlesnakes, but continued inexorably down the dirt road, the single tree silhouetted against the moonlight.

“You think here’s good?” the dragon asked the pony.

“Just a mite further, then I’ll know that nopony else can hear us.”

When they were under the tree, Applejack settled down at its roots and Spike sat right next to her. The healthy glow of the moon illuminated the land like no other, and the stars punctuated the black tapestry as diamonds in the rough. Spike pondered upon the diamonds, thinking immediately of Rarity’s cutie mark, the trio of arrayed precious stones, dignifying her talent with glamour. The taste of diamond was as sweet as anything that could be described and only dragon’s teeth could hope to break them. Spike smiled and crossed his arms behind his head, leaning against the tree.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” asked Applejack, who had by this time taken off her hat, allowing her golden mane to roll free. Spike turned to look at her and was caught off guard by the silver glow that was cast by her mane against the moonlight. Her eyes were tenderly exploring his, purely curious of what his own thoughts were. Spike suddenly forgot about the diamonds, about Rarity, about Equestria.

“Spike?” Applejack asked once more. The dragon simply stared, no trace of expression.

“Wow.” That was all he could say, and even then, it was a whisper, for he feared that she would notice.

She did, and she noticed something else as well, the glint and glimmer of Spike’s scales, how they danced and swayed with his breathing. He looked, like a jewel: sharp, but beautiful. She wanted to tell him just how stunning he looked in the moonlight, but the mare held her tongue.

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, silence fell between them, each searching for something to say, to begin the conversation that had been delayed for so long.

How do I begin? Spike’s mind raced. How do I explain why I almost kissed her that time?

How do I start? Applejack’s mind tried to keep up with her ever-beating heart. This is so strange, we’re just friends, he made a mistake; you took it in stride… until now. Now she had no clue what to think.

“Nothing happened,” began Spike, softly, unsure of his own verbal footing.

“Yup, that’s true,” was her response.

“I was thinking about Rarity,” Spike confessed.

“I know,” replied Applejack, looking away. “I reckon everypony dun figured it out, really.”

Spike’s face became hot. His subtlety now shattered. Still, he slowly managed to speak again, “I’m sorry if-if I made you feel uncomfortable, AJ.”

“Oh, there’s no harm done, sugarcube.” Applejack smiled. “In fact, it was kinda cute.” This did not help the crimson of Spike’s face to lessen.

“But, what if I had actually kissed you?” Spike asked slowly.

Applejack considered this, her eyes searching the constellations for an answer.

“I’m not sure,” she finally admitted. “I can’t honestly say.”

“Well,” offered Spike, “it seemed enough to give you dragon nightmares.”

Applejack stiffened. “Hey, you try to explain to a young and impressionable filly that you were dreamin’ about gettin’ real acquainted with a certain purple dragon.”

“So you told Apple Bloom it was a nightmare? Is the idea of my kissing you that truly terrifying?” Spike’s chest became inexplicably tight then, his thoughts unclear. Oddly, they bordered on disappointment.

“I didn’t tell her everythin’, ‘cause there’s things that a little filly can’t yet know.”

“Oh?” asked Spike flatly, “and what would those be?”

Applejack hesitated for the moment and did her best to gather herself. She fought the urge to look away and spoke as strongly as she could, “I didn’t tell Apple Bloom everything because nopony needed to know that I actually… enjoyed that particular nightmare.” Spike’s heart stopped. Applejack continued, “And yes, I called it a nightmare because boy, did it scare the bark offa me.”

Spike turned to see that Applejack was actually gazing at him, a gentle smile on her face and softened green eyes alight. “You—” he stuttered, then repeated. “You had a dream about me kissing you… and you enjoyed it?”

“Well,”—Applejack lowered her voice to a shaky whisper—“yeah.” The pair stared into one-another’s eyes for what seemed an entire season, apple-bucking long behind them. Leaves long shriveled and gone. Eventually, they both smiled at one another, hearts fluttering.

“Are you still scared?” Spike asked.

“I’ve never been afraid of anythin’ in my entire life,” Applejack stated, raising her head proudly, beaming.

“Save the kiss of a dragon?”

This question struck Applejack, her heart striving to be released from her chest. What’s going on here? She took a long look at the where she sat, with him at her side, eyeing her curiously. His usually readable expression was now indecipherable and she could no longer bring herself to look at him. What am I doing? she chastised herself. The icy claws of guilt seized her stomach. Stop leading him on! You’re years older than him! This was true, for she was Twilight’s age and she had hatched Spike when she was but a young filly herself.

The difference was not that broad, was it? she argued with herself.

What difference could it make? she argued back.

All the difference in Equestria! her mind countered, He’s a dragon.

A sweet, caring and—since that day a year ago—handsome dragon! She added, shifting uncomfortably, What would everypony else say?

Spike watched as an uneasy silence drifted between the two of them. He felt his insides twist, though he could not entirely understand why. Applejack was not answering his question. Did he even expect a response?

I hope it isn’t this way with Rarity, he sighed to himself. He looked back to Applejack and saw a pair of emerald eyes staring back at him; the expression they held was entirely lost to him. Then it came: he did not mutter only to himself. It became clear to Spike, that narrowing of the eyebrows, that unconscious twitching of the snout: He had spoken aloud and she had heard him.

Oh no.

She had heard him, all right. Applejack tilted her Stetson to cover her eyes, now determined not to meet his, regardless of the stirring it now caused in her chest.

“So, even now, you can’t help but think of her, huh?” It was not an accusation, but a mere statement of fact. Spike wished it were an accusation, for his counter would have been swift, defensive, pleading. The farm mare’s tone disarmed him. That stinging truth took hold and the pair could not help but move away from one another.

“I think,” Spike slowly said, “that I should head back home. It’s getting late.” He rose, not looking at Applejack. The farm mare rose with him, unable to meet the gaze that he did not offer.

“Yeah, I reckon it’s time for me to hit the hay as well,” she replied. They started walking.

I’m sorry! he wanted to say, I didn’t mean it! He wished he could shout to her. What do I mean? he argued, this time to himself. He could not say goodbye as he walked home to his lonely library. He reluctantly fought the urge to quickly glance over his shoulder, but he believed that Applejack would not be there to greet his sight.

It’s okay! she wanted to say, I know you didn’t mean it! She wished he could shout to him. What do I mean? She argued, this time to herself. She could not say goodbye as she walked toward her family home. Reluctantly, she fought the urge to quickly glance over her shoulder, for she believed that Spike would not be there to greet her sight. Forget it. She cursed under her bated breath.

Lazy cumuli crowded the crescent moon and shadows fell upon the land where that lonesome tree stood. Spike and Applejack found their ways to their respective beds, each settling into disquieting silence.

Spike huffed and a little cloud of smoke rose, dancing across the high wooden ceiling of the master bedroom. His thoughts were upon the evening which loomed darkly in his mind as he tried to piece it all together. He had left Applejack unhappy and that notion sent ripples of dismay through his scales. The thought of her being upset, and his being the cause of it, were not good bedfellows as they began to claim his right to slumber peacefully. The hurt in her eyes, pain that he did not intend to visit upon her burned into his memory. “Why is this such a big deal!” he spat, though none could hear him. “She’s my friend and she apparently knows about my crush on Rarity. Heck, the whole town bloody-well knows!” He winced a bit at his harsh tongue. Twilight would not have let such a phrase pass un-lectured. ‘What would Rarity think of Spike the Gentledrake if she were to hear the filth coming from your mouth!’ her voice echoed in his mind. Ordinarily, that chastising, the threat of his so-called beloved dismissing him on the grounds of his foul language would terrorize Spike into a fearful submission. Now? Now he could care less.

“As if I had a chance with Rarity anyway,” Spike admitted to the air.

Yeah, you pretty much screwed up with Applejack, too. His mind sourly offered.

“As if I had a chance with her—least of all with her!” He argued back.

Zero chance now, actually, his mind hissed.

“She’s my friend! Why would she want anything else? Why would I want anything else?” he snarled.

You’ve seen the way she’s warmed up to you. She’s always cared for you and now that you’ve grown up—

“It’s only been a year—”

Shut up and let me finish.

“Sorry.”

Think about it, buddy-boy: she’s dreaming about you, actually showing you affection, and what do you do?

“Mention the one mare she’s basically playing foil to, despite the affection she’s showing me?”

Yes.

“What does ‘foil’ even mean?”

Ugh.

“What!” Spike threw his arms up.

You need to make it up to her. It may not seem like a big deal now, but it is, to her at least. Trust me.

“You’re a voice in my head that I am having a conversation with.”

So, is it safe to assume that I at least have your ear?

“I guess so.” Spike admitted as he allowed his mind to explore what it would. Eventually, he settled into an exhausted sleep upon finally deciding what the light of tomorrow would bring. He hoped that he could make her happy. That seemed to be all that mattered at the moment.

Applejack tossed and turned in her bed, sleep evading her every attempt to grasp it. Finally, she opened her eyes and stared down the ceiling, expecting it to state the obvious: a certain purple dragon was not far from her thoughts and she resented the fact that she did not mind. Applejack huffed, crossing her forelimbs and lost the duel with her ceiling. Why was I so surprised that he mentioned Rarity? she thought, He’s only been head o’er… hooves? Claws? Whichever, for her as long as I can remember. Did I actually think that he’d drop everything ‘cause a’ me? She huffed again. A filly with her head in the trees and not on the earth that bears ‘em.

Still. She blinked amid the darkened silence that enshrouded her. I wouldn’t mind seeing a grin on his face again. At least it would make me feel better to try and make him smile. She scratched her head, running through the possibilities to do just that. Ah... She brightened as she finally landed her ideal option.

But, how to get one. Applejack pondered her chosen avenue. She sighed happily as she turned over and got comfortable, sleep finally ending its elusive trials of her patience.

In the year since Rarity’s rescue from the timid Diamond Dogs, Twilight Sparkle had enjoyed many trips to the Citadel, nearly all at her own behest. Occasionally, a letter from the Princess would humbly request her presence for some manner of royal business.

This was different. Something was ill and foreboding about this day’s epistle.

In the letter, Princess Celestia had informed her student to remain composed at all costs, despite what awaited her in Canterlot. She was told to be strong, for difficult decisions lay ahead, though she could not specify as to why this was the case. Celestia, the orchestrator of the sun itself, was below nopony and her authority was final in all things. Nothing could forbid the Princess of the Sun from speaking fully. Despite this, the tone of the ambiguous letter sent a very real chill down her spine. As she trotted through the welcoming gates of the Citadel, the young mare’s chest grew tight with uncertainty. Through the atrium and out to the royal courtyard, the tone of the letter kept pace with her: helplessness. Princess Celestia wrote with a tone of helplessness.

When she arrived to her destination, the sight she bore witness to clenched onto her heart and did not relinquish its hold.

Twilight Sparkle had known terror before. She had faced Nightmare Moon and her minions with astute courage. The beasts of Everfree could not claim or destroy neither her, nor her friends whenever they struck. Together, they had confronted and overcome all of these dangers and more. But now, her friends remained behind in this secret endeavour. Twilight felt alone and defenseless in the most secure location in all of Equestria.

As she took her first trepid steps into the courtyard, the presence that awaited her cast a vast shadow across the grounds. She shrunk before it, involuntarily averting her eyes from the gaze that met her, for it was cold and penetrating.

“Twilight Sparkle.” A great voice bellowed forth from the awaiting shadows and the unicorn fell to her knees, bowing low. Her eyes refused to meet the source of the voice. A low cackling rose from that same shadow, engulfing her drooping ears. Satisfied with its effect, the shadow spoke once more. “Now negotiations may resume.”