Unintentionally Yours

Chapter 2: Theirs

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Amid the lofty heights of Canterlot's Citadel, the mighty and familiar spires, hewn from the purple rock of the mountain did not serve to ease the unicorn's frozen heart. She had known dragons before and had faced them as bravely as she had the Nightmare. Yet, this presence was more than she could handle.

And there were two of them: Great Dragons sat before her, waiting. Their luminous eyes, ever-thinking, focused on her as she edged forward. At their mighty clawed feet stood regal Princess Celestia, dwarfed by the scaled beings. Her expression, as ever, was unreadable. Her chromatic mane coiled and billowed in the non-existent winds.

The great hall would not suffice their great size, and thus the meeting took place amid the royal courtyard, wreathed by the famous labyrinth. The greater of the two narrowed his gaze upon Twilight. What was once a great thunderous voice simmered to a dull roar. “You are the one who, in years past, has been keeping my son.”

Twilight found the courage to raise herself up and meet the gaze of her interrogator. He was magnificent, as he was terrible to see, she concluded. Golden plates shone like a thousand stars upon his gilded belly, invulnerable to the stings of any weapon. Like crests and valleys, his powerful chest rose and fell with deep combustible breaths. Upon his back were scales of thick, deep crimson. The sun's reflection shimmered across the slick tapered surface. Black as steel, his spines traced his tail and crested head. It was his eyes that nearly robbed Twilight of her courage once more. They were as deep pools, fiery iris wreathed in golden sclera. Black pupils held her image. She studied his eyes further, for they reminded her of twin sunsets amid the fall.

They were beautiful to behold, but Twilight remembered her voice, “I am Twilight Sparkle,” she confirmed. “This much I can provide, but please forgive my ignorance as to whom I speak with, Great Dragon.”

This amused the dragon, fangs bared into an up-curled smile. “Manners, Celestia. She has them, though I find it rude that you do not introduce us. A conundrum indeed.”

“Forgive me, old friend,” the Princess sighed, though her expression remained as stone, “Twilight Sparkle, my faithful student, it is my honour and privilege to present to you, Royum Dadaelus, Lord of Dragons.” The large wyrm spread his leathery wings to full span as steam rose from his throat and nostrils.

“And I humbly present,” continued Celestia, “his mate and Mistress of Dragons, Royum Nalthanida.” The second dragon had been silent, though no less intimidating. She was slighter than her Lord, her scales a lavish blue that reminded Twilight of the seas of the South, so vivid. As far as dragons were concerned, Mistress Nalthanida was a beauty of her own, her icy green eyes eerily familiar. Dark green spines graced her head, back and tail.

Those eyes. ‘Our son’. The realization struck Twilight with all the weight of a runaway steam engine.

“You’re Spike’s parents!” She nearly choked as she recalled Celestia’s warning. The female dragon’s eyes narrowed as her own steam rose menacingly. The princess offered her student a firm look.

Lord Dadaelus shook his large head, his smile disappearing, “Spike? You gave him a name, as any would a common pet!”

Twilight shrank once more, her realization getting the best of her. Now she felt truly helpless before a pair of offended dragons. Twilight hid her eyes once more, unsure of what to do. She fought the fear and the tears it produced. Regardless, an immense pit had formed in her chest where the anxiety lay. They were here for him. Spike, my number one assistant! My pillar of strength and trust… my little brother. She wanted to scream, but held her tongue.

“Do not fault my student, Lord of Dragons,” Celestia’s heavenly voice carried Twilight from her despair and warmed her against the frigid glowering of the dragons. “It was I who spirited your egg from your resting place not disturbing your century-long slumber.” This admission turned the dragon’s attention from Twilight and centered it upon the regal mare. Their eyes held no sway against she who merely met them. The young unicorn could see the rage building within the furnace of the royal dragon’s chests.

Dadaelus spoke from behind clenched fangs, “I have known you, Celestia for nigh on one-thousand years. I have seen your resolve and purpose in dealing with vile things. I watched as you cast your only sister to the moon and saw you endure that pain.” His great voice rumbled as his rage began to boil, “Do you feel the need to rob others of their kin,” he pointed a steel claw at Twilight, “or subject your followers to ruin for your own frivolities?” He then leveled the accusing claw toward the princess herself.

Celestia kept her voice level in her response, “Of your dozen eggs laid, you no doubt know that none survived. By the time I had discovered the clutch, only one remained warm.” She closed her eyes, reciting her memory of those many years ago. “I took it upon myself to take this egg and keep it safe when you were unable.” A warm smile spread across Celestia’s long visage as she turned to Twilight, “It was my faithful student that hatched him: a strong, healthy male of rich royal coat.”

“He took to her very well and she, to him. Together, I have watched them grow, learn, and experience the world as few could. That which the young dragon has learned can only benefit your kind when the time comes for him to fly.”

“Regardless, Princess,” Dadaelus softened his voice, but not his stare, “you have the thanks of my mate and I for the preservation of our son, but that does not impede what we are here to demand.”

Celestia exhaled and the warm smile that she offered Twilight drifted slowly into a sad frown. “Yes,” she said, “I understand.” That pit which had formed within Twilight’s chest returned. She knew then what her secretive purpose in Canterlot was in treating with these dragons.

No. Her thoughts raced and stumbled over one another. Celestia slowly approached Twilight and spoke as softly as she could, “You understand as well, don’t you, Twilight?” The unicorn shook her head, refusing to neither meet her Princess’ rosy eyes, nor accept her kind nuzzle.

Twilight whispered, her urgent voice pleading, “You can’t let them take him, Princess! He needs me and I need him!” The tears she had fought so desperately began to swell, spilling openly from her bright purple eyes.

Celestia hushed her student, “I do not wish this upon you, or anyone, Twilight, but I am afraid I have no choice. Dadaelus has presented an unexpected ultimatum that I cannot ignore.”

“Your princess speaks correctly, Twilight Sparkle.” Dadaelus thundered, startling the young mare that chanced a glance in his direction. “For you see, Miss Sparkle, one-thousand strong of my kind await my command to lay siege to this citadel unless our demands are not met.

“You are here to deliver my son to me, so that you may deliver this city from destruction.”

The young unicorn studied the Princess carefully. She was stoic in the trying moments of Twilight’s arrival, but her eyes now gave way to the subtlest of sadness. Only those who were not accustomed to Celestia’s presence could have missed the pain that was so minutely expressed. This told Twilight that the Dragonlord spoke the truth. The sudden thought of Canterlot, her mighty spires and battlements set aflame forced Twilight to clench her eyes shut in an attempt to wave the image away. Before the vision could gain strength, she asked, “Why me, Princess?” Why had she been chosen to break her own heart, to plunge the blade into her life willingly? Had she known that she would be asked to forsake her oldest and most loyal friend, she would have asked the Princess to come to her, maybe an alternative could be planned!

“Because, Twilight,” answered Celestia, “I know what it is like to lose a sister, especially by my own hooves.” She lowered her head once more to offer a reassuring nuzzle, but Twilight backed away, her tears flowing freely. Celestia continued, “They are giving you two days to go back and retrieve Spike, although they advise that the sooner he is returned, the better it will be for all of us. I want to make sure that you have enough time to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” Twilight could barely believe what she was hearing. “Goodbye?” she repeated, shaking her head. “Is there no other way?”

“No other path will do, Twilight Sparkle,” The great voice of Dadaelus echoed down. “Feel fortunate, little pony, that we have granted you time; days, in fact, to return to your home and retrieve our son.”

“I am so sorry, my faithful student.” Celestia permitted Twilight to see her own tears relinquished. The purple mare’s breathing deepened. The Princess spoke on, “Though I do not expect forgiveness, even I could not foresee the consequences of my actions, let alone the potential fate that awaits this city if I fail to correct those actions.”

Twilight did not want to forgive Celestia for the pain that she was about to endure, but she squeezed her eyes shut before slowly nodding, “I… understand, your majesty.” Opening her eyes once more, Twilight steeled herself as she raised her glance toward the dragons that observed her, “Dragonlord,” she addressed, choking back her sadness. Dadaelus and Nalthanida returned the gaze as the unicorn continued, “I will return to Ponyville and return with Spi—your son. I beg of you your forgiveness for Celestia, for I know in my heart that she meant well and acted out of interest for your son’s preservation.” Celestia placed herself next to her student.

Dadaelus exchanged glances between both ponies before replying, “If it was his fate to be preserved, it would have been decided during our slumber, my little unicorn.” His expression darkened. Nalthanida remained as unreadable as Celestia had been when her mate spoke once more, “Despite this affront, Nalthanida and I will be grateful for his return all the same.” Suddenly and with great speed, Royum Dadaelus spread his vast wings, taking to the air in one swift and powerful stroke, his crimson scales gleaming.

Mistress Nalthanida remained, not matching her mate’s departure. Instead, her great blue head and icy green eyes focused on Twilight. The more she looked into them, the more she could see Spike in them. And that made her feel guilty, of all things.

“Tell me, Twilight Sparkle,” the dragon began, her voice light, her countenance lacking all of its former menace. The young mare held the lady-dragon’s attention. “Has my son ever spoken of his parents? Has he ever asked of his mother?” This question was genuine and curious. From female to female, mother figure to actual mother. The dragon waited eagerly for a reply.

Twilight breathed slowly, “In his slumber, Lady Nalthanida, Sp—your son—has often called to his mother, sometimes not recognizing me when he wakes.”

“How large has he become in these few years?”

This question prompted Twilight to raise her hoof to a level of her brow. “His head reaches here,” she informed the dragon before raising her hoof to a level inching well above her ears. “His crest is here.”

At this, the lady Dragon seemed pleased. Cool steam rose from the smile that curled her lips. She asked, “Is he strong? Has he impressed upon any other dragons?”

“In his own way, he is very strong and brave and true.” Twilight could not help but smile. “That does not, however, subvert his childish callousness, his appetite, his loyalty, his charm, his wit, his stubbornness, his ability to sleep through a hurricane.” She chuckled, though the dragoness did not.

Royum Nalthanida found herself lying upon her stomach, her head lowered to Twilight’s eye level. The mare did not realize that she too had settled upon the grass during her conversation. The lady-dragon offered no comments, but listened intently, her green eyes wide with interest. Despite this communication, Twilight remained cognizant of avoiding the mention of Spike’s name, only referring to him as ‘your son,’ lest she receive the ire of Royum Nalthanida.

The moon was beginning its celestial ascent by the time Nalthanida rose from her spot upon the courtyard grass. Twilight rose with her and a silence pervaded them both. The lady dragon simply stared at the unicorn, a mixture of curiosity and… something else in her eyes.

“Two days, Twilight Sparkle,” she uttered. Without another word, Royum Nalthanida turned around, spread her wings and was off in an instant, leaving Twilight alone and perplexed.

Celestia had remained silent and still for the hours that had passed so effortlessly by. She too settled a fair distance away and kept her eyes closed, attaining a state of near-meditation, though still entirely aware of the conversation that occurred between the dragon and her student. For the first time that day, the feeling of hopelessness had begun to wither. However, the cost of this peace still weighed heavily upon her, for Dadaelus would not be swayed in his demands and Twilight would still be forced to give up her little brother. Nalthanida, too, though pleased, with the result conversation, only seemed all the more eager to have her son returned.

She thought then, of the grass that brushed against her, the labyrinth walls that loomed before her, and the balcony from which her younger sister did raise the moon. Her thoughts spread to the ponies that roamed the cobblestone streets and lived among the stonework of Canterlot. She thought of the mountain that supported them all and the view it provided, commanding the land from its lofty heights.

She then tried her best to avoid imagining any of those precious things being engulfed in flame and her being unable to prevent all of it without dire consequence. She would have to sacrifice a great deal in order to prevent this from happening. That sacrifice came in the form of her student’s anger and resentment, which pained the Princess almost as much as the flames that awaited the breakdown of negotiations.

Still, she knew what had to be done. She opened her eyes as Nalthanida took wing, leaving the silent Twilight alone with her.

“Two days,” Twilight breathed. The unicorn turned around, ignoring the presence of her regal companion. Slowly, she made her way back toward the citadel’s heavy doors in the direction of the halls and atriums that led to her balloon. Celestia rose from her seated position and followed her student as she made her way through the old castle. She wanted to speak, to get Twilight’s attention, but her wisdom told her otherwise. As the eldest and most learned mare in all of Equestria, the princess could certainly read the body language her young pupil emitted. She had no right to speak, despite her authority to override all rights. As a mare, whose decisions would deprive another mare of her dearest friend, she felt it necessary to withhold her own right to speak freely. Eventually, the silent pair reached the open balcony where the hot-air balloon awaited its owner.

It was then that Celestia broke the silence between them, “Twilight, please.”

The unicorn did not heed her Princess’ call and continued toward the empty gondola. Celestia sighed and glanced upward. A high-pitched whistle sounded from her lips, carrying a tepid tune across the darkening skies. Twilight halted, but did not look over. She was familiar with that tune, its notes ringing in her memory. Within moments, a glinting object could be seen cresting the mountain being pulled by a pair of large figures. Twilight knew what she saw before saw it: Celestia’s royal chariot, gilded and jewel-inlaid, drawn by a pair harnessed pegasi, clad in gold, their coats of purest white. Twilight offered her mentor a sidelong glance, the first eye contact she allowed in hours. Celestia smiled at this connection and spoke softly, “Take my chariot and go, Twilight. Spend as much time with him as possible and I will continue to speak with Dadaelus. Even his heart can be swayed, I am sure, and you have already done so much, though you do not yet realize it.”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but held back on her words. Instead, she simply nodded and climbed into the waiting chariot. “To Ponyville, please,” she said evenly. In that instant, the golden carriage lifted off and was away. Twilight chanced another glance toward the ever-shrinking Canterlot. She saw the Princess staring back and meeting her eyes before they became indiscernible details, passing in the growing night.

Spike’s eyes were met with the glow of early morning, though they widened with excitement. Much to his surprise, he had woken with a plan to smooth things over with Applejack. With a huff, he sprang from his bed and dashed downstairs to greet the newborn day.

Ponyville had barely begun to wake by the time Spike had begun the initial stages of his plan. Flowers, he thought. Flowers are the quickest way to earn a mare’s attention, for a moment at least. That uncertainty did nothing to sway his determined steps as he approached his target.

“Morning, Rose!” Spike called cheerfully. The light-cream-coloured Earth mare tossed her burgundy red mane to one side in surprise.

“Oh! Well, good morning, Spike,” she greeted cheerfully. “Quite the surprise to see you up and at ‘em this early.”

“I normally have no reason to wake up this early,” Spike responded with a wide smile.

“Is that so?” asked Rose, smiling back. “If you mind my asking, what’s the occasion?”

“I need to get something for somepony.”

“Oh?” Rose asked, raising her eyebrows. “And what might that be?”

Spike scratched the back of his neck, shifting his feet. “Well, I was hopeing you could help me, seeing as you know a lot about flowers and all.”

Rose’s smile blossomed into a knowing grin, “Is this for a special somepony?” The mare giggled and Spike could not help but flush.

“I wouldn’t put it in that sense, but she is really special and I want to make her happy, seeing as I kinda screwed up last night.”

Rose’s grin melted somewhat as Spike’s eyes drifted downward. She placed a sympathetic hoof on his broad shoulder and said, “Now, I’m sure you didn’t do anything too terrible, Spike. But, to help you out, I think I might know what this special lady needs to pick her spirits up!”

“Really?” Spike’s eyes shot back to life as he grinned a wide and toothy grin.

“Yes,” stated Rose. “Because a fashionista requires grace and beauty, I would recommend the infallible broad-chested rose!” Rose then motioned toward a lovely batch of fully bloomed flowers that were her namesake.

“Roses. Of course, it makes perfe—wait, did you say fashionista?”

Roseluck tilted her head quizzically to one side. “Yes, these are for Rarity, are they not?”

“Er, not quite.” Spike found himself mumbling and shuffling his feet.

“But how did you –”

“Just a guess, I supposed,” interrupted Roseluck, who flushed with embarrassment at her previous mistake.

“Was it really that obvious before?”

“I can’t lie, Spike. You were about as subtle as a manitcore in a china shop.”

Spike frowned, but Roseluck beamed once again, asking, “So who is the lucky lady this time?”

“Like I said before: it’s an apology to a special pony that you may or may not know.”

“Is it Applejack?” Roseluck’s smile widened.

“Um. Yes.” He did not bother to ask how she knew.

“Now that was a lucky guess, I swear!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Spike waved off the giggling pony’s teasing and asked, “Any recommendations?”

Roseluck appeared to heavily ponder his request, but then pointed back toward the roses. Spike looked down to the red blossoms, then back to their vendor. “I’m guessing that it was going to be roses, regardless?”

“What can I say,” Roseluck shrugged, “mares love roses. Even workaholics like Applejack.”

“Somehow, I have a hard time believing that, but I’ve made up my mind: I’ll take a dozen, please.” Spike retrieved a bag of golden bits that he carried for the transaction. In a flash, Roseluck had gathered the dozen roses and packaged them into a neat bouquet. “How much do I owe you, Rose?”

The cream-coloured mare wiggled her snout and winked, saying, “No charge, loverboy. I have to give you some extra encouragement if you’re going to make up with one of the strongest, most dependable ponies in Equestria.”

“Wow, Rose.” Spike bit his lip. “I don’t think I can accept this offer.”

“Think nothing of it, Spike!” Roseluck smiled cheerfully. “Consider it a gift and a blessing of sorts.”

“Gee, thanks!” Spike held the bouquet close to his chest and smiled heartily.

“Good luck, loverboy!” Roseluck waved as Spike ran in the direction of Sweet Apple Acres.

Applejack awoke with a start. It was not the sway and parry of her dreams that had shaken her from them, but the gentle rapping at her door. With a restful yawn, Applejack looked over to the rising sun, only to find that the sun had not yet fully awoken. It was but a faint glow over the horizon, setting Equestria gracefully ablaze with its soft early light. She was roused much earlier than she was used to, but her curiosity at the rapping of her door outweighed what, by rights, should have been resentment. With another yawn, she emerged from her covers and reached a hoof to turn the old brass knob. What she expected to see was the bright sleepless eyes of her big brother ready to greet her to another day of toil and more toil. What she found instead were the bright green eyes of one purple dragon, his familiar face beaming with a sharp toothy grin.

“Morning, Applejack!” Spike greeted her with a song in his voice.

“Hm. Mornin’, Spike,” replied the mare automatically; confused as she was, she did not forsake her homely manners. She then asked, “Might I ask what brings you here so early?”

Spike did not seem to hold an answer, though the light in his eyes did not fade as his smile did lessen. “I’m not really sure why I showed up so early. I’m sorry, AJ. I didn’t mean to –”

“That’s quite alright, sugarcube,” Applejack lightened with yet another yawn. She genuinely was glad to see her friend, thrilled even, given her dreams the night before. She wondered if he had the same ones.

“I mostly came over, AJ, to give you these.” Spike then held out a bouquet of the most vibrant red roses she had ever seen. Her breath caught in her throat as the rays of the rising sun greeted each petal. Spike cleared his throat as Applejack admired the roses, “They are for you, because I wanted to apologize for what I said last night.”

That breath had not yet caught up with the farm mare as she took in the sight. With a gentle smile, she sniffed the roses and said, “Wow, Spike. Thank you.” Her green eyes softened upon his as she leaned forward and took a hearty bite out of the roses. “Mm, delicious!”

Spike held his jaw shut, briefly forgetting that ponies enjoyed flowers as much as they enjoyed other foods. With a chuckle, he glanced back toward Ponyville. Well, at least they were free.

“So, Spike,” began Applejack. “You woke up bright and early to spoil my breakfast and make my day?” She laughed and patted the dragon on the shoulder.

“Actually, I was wondering if you needed help on the farm today as well.” Now Applejack truly looked surprised.

Spike may not have known how to spell the word flabbergasted, but he did understand when somepony was clearly taken aback by such a peculiar move. He suddenly felt foolish, his cheeks flushing at the very idea of going so far out of his way, waking up so early, even when Twilight was away of all times, just to do something out of the ordinary for somepony else.

He had wanted to do something nice for the farm mare. His very inner self ached to give her something that told her that he cared. He was unsure of why he cared so much for making Applejack happy, but he could not keep himself from the dreams, the thoughts of the kiss that never was, and how she might feel in return. His best bet was to make the effort to go out of the way for her as he had done for Rarity. He couldn't explain it, but the chance of making the honest mare smile was far too appealing to simply let slip by.

“Spike…” she supplied, steadily, carefully and closed her eyes. He found himself leaning forward in anticipation. “We here at the Apple Family always eat a proper breakfast before the day’s work begins.” Casually, the smiling mare stepped aside and welcomed the young dragon with a wave of her hoof.

Beaming, he accepted and entered.

Together and in silence, they ate heartily of oats and freshly chilled cow’s milk. Big MacIntosh was usually the first to rise and rouse his sisters and grandmother. This time, he entered the den with a surprised look on his long face, which quickly gave way to a grin.

“Couldn’t keep away from the Apple recipes, eh, Spike?”

“He’s here to earn his keep,” Applejack offered with a wide smile tugging her cheeks.

“That so, lil’ sis?” The crimson stallion considered this, exchanging glances between Applejack and the dragon. “I reckon he’s ready to haul some serious flank, iffin’ he’s willin’ to keep up with us.” As Big MacIntosh teased, Spike merely nodded, his cheeks full of moistened oats and sweet milk.

The stallion laughed as he pulled a seat. “I guess we can let granny and Apple Bloom sleep in for a little while, if only to wear our dragon friend down a bit before the real work starts.” Spike glanced over to Applejack, who chuckled with her brother before returning the look. Her emerald eyes softened and she extended a hind hoof beneath the table to gently stroke against Spike’s leg. The gesture was to assure him of no backbreaking labour, but he enjoyed the sensation across his scales nonetheless. As quickly as she had stroked his leg, just so did she retreat it when Big Mac silently switched his gaze between the two of them before rolling his eyes.

That previous gesture did little to ease the work that came with the sun’s rising. Nonetheless, Spike had broken the soil in the southern fields just ahead of Big Mac, if only to make his plowing easier. Next was the apple bucking in the western orchards and down the valley. The baskets provided were no larger than he, and woefully unwieldy when full to the brim. More than once did he spill entire basket loads on his way to one of Applejack’s carts. Progress was, to say the least, sluggish. Spike dragged a pair of baskets to the base of yet another tree, sizing up the tall challenge he was considering. While gazing up at the leafy green canopy, he leaned against the trunk, mindlessly grating his claws against the hard flesh of the tree. As he did so, Spike noticed that they effortlessly sunk into the bark, securely fastened. He tried his other claw with the same result, followed closely by a small leap and both feet. Before he knew it, the dragon clung to the vertical limit of the tree. With cautious movements, his claws relinquished their hold with a gentle tug before he swung them higher, gaining another hold. His feet followed suit. Within seconds, the young dragon had found himself ten feet in the air, clinging to the tree. Reversing the process, Spike had managed to become terra-bound with little more effort. Without pausing, he swung his tail and curled its sharp, prehensile tip, cradling a nearby basket. In five minutes, his body swung lazily from branch to branch, each basket becoming filled with apples that he gently batted loose from their stems, neatly catching each one. Many unwitting apples were scarified in Spike’s pursuit of mechanical efficiency, but these were made so that, by nearly noon, remotely any had been missed at all.

A low whistle caught Spike’s ear as he hung from his next tree. He looked ‘up’ and saw the upside down figures of Applejack and Big MacIntosh. “Now there’s a technique I’ve never done seen before,” began the mare.

“Eeyup,” replied her brother.

Spike could not help but be amused by their upside-down expression. “How many trees was that again?” he asked, gesturing to the sway of cleaned trees behind him.

“Hm,” Applejack ran the numbers in her head.

“About six and a half,” replied Big Mac who clearly had the head for fancy mathematical numbers.

“Only six and a half!” Spike spat as his grip loosened and he came crashing down to the ground. Or he would have met the ground had Applejack not met his falling self,

breaking his fall with her strong back. He flopped the rest of the way down to the ground promptly.

“Not bad for a little feller like yourself, Spike,” Big Mac nodded.

Applejack merely smiled, stating, “I reckon that he’s earned some lunch, am I right Big McIntosh?”

“Eeyup,” was the stallion’s only reply.

Apple Bloom and Granny Smith had long since risen and were busying themselves with chores about the house. When Big Mac, Applejack and Spike strolled in, Apple Bloom asked, “Back again, Spike. Yer’ gettin’ real familiar ‘round here.”

“Don’t be rude, Apple Bloom.” Applejack stated.

“But, I wasn’t!”

“That’s enough outa you, young’un.” Granny Smith shooed Apple Bloom off, “Go and git washed up fer lunch now, ya hear!” The litte filly grumbled under her breath as she made her way to the water pump outside.

Lunch was a quick affair, but then Applejack made a sudden announcement, “I’ll be off into Ponyville for the rest of the afternoon, family... and Spike, so don’t miss me too much. I’ll be home before dinner and I promise this time.”

Spike motioned to respond, but Apple Bloom beat him to the gate, “What’re you doin’ in town, sis? Can I come with ya?”

“No can do, lil’ sis,” replied Applejack. “There’s an errand I need to run. Spike, can I ask you a favour?”

“Sure, AJ, anything.” the dragon was surprised by this request and wondered at what it could be.

“Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle are comin’ over. Would you be able you be able to watch over them? Big Mac’s got some more work to do and Granny Smith has an appointment with the doctor later on and can’t keep watch. I was gonna do it, but since you’re here, it would mean a lot to me and what I’m doin’ in town.”

Spike did not hesitate, though if he had seen the malicious grin on Apple Bloom’s face, he certainly would have. “Sure,” he said cheerfully. “How hard could it be?” Applejack did not respond. Honesty would not be fitting for the moment. Instead, she smiled and thanked Spike once again before disappearing out the front door and grabbing a nearby shovel.

As the Element of Honesty, Applejack had to be careful when she intended to be secretive. She did not lie when she stated her scheme to visit Ponyville: technically, the zoning for Ponyville ended several kilometers away from the furthest homestead or even the nearest road to where she had wound up. The craggy hillside overlooking Ponyville was a very familiar sight to her. It was a place of dirt, rocks and gems. It was the site of their adventure with the Diamond Dogs the previous year. It was the source of her never-ending dreams about a certain purple dragon who never left her memory. It would be here that she wished to dig up his gift. With rigor and enthusiasm, Applejack broke the surface of the ground and began her dig. As an Earth pony, digging was naturally quite invigorating for her. In the initial few scoops, she hit pay dirt. Or, at least she thought she did.

Gems, gems, gems. Of all colours, shapes and denominations: sapphires, rubies, opals. Nothing caught her eye. As her pile grew, so did Applejack’s disappointment. Of all these gems, none stood out. None seemed worth packing, cleaning and offering to her dear friend. It became clear to her then that it was in this quarry that she would not so swiftly find his gift as she had hoped. It was instead, in this quarry, that she found disappointment. It was here that she dug up naught but failure. It was here that she did not expect to find that last pony that would dare venture back here alone.

It was here that she bumped into Rarity.

“Applejack?” the fashionista blinked her heavy eyelashes.

“Rarity?” the farm pony raised a sweaty eyebrow.

Both asked, “What are you doing here?”

Rarity huffed and answered, “Well, if I must divulge, I am here to mark locations for yet another gem excursion. I am running low on stones again, you see. So I simply use my gem-finding spell to highlight deposits of gems, I flag said deposits and continue until my task is done.” The alabaster mare flipped her bouncing purple curls and levitated one of many little flagpoles, each hoisting a miniature lavender, rhinestone encrusted flag. With her glowing aura, Rarity instantly identified a nearby deposit of gems and quaintly planted a flag upon it.

“Seems fair,” mused Applejack. “But how’re you gonna get them? I don’t see no cart or shovels.”

“Moi? dig? Oh no, no, no, darling!” Rarity giggled and Applejack rolled her eyes. Of course she won’t actually dig for ‘em. Lousy good-for-nothin’ pony pedis. “I am going to invite dear Spike to join me on yet another excursion. Why, with those dreadful Diamond Dogs out of the way, we might even make it back without any hassle!” Applejack did not reply.

“Speaking of shovels, dear,” Rarity motioned to Applejack’s sullied tool. “You are the last pony I’d expect to be searching all the way out here for anything.”

“Me?” The farm mare glanced about. “I’m just -er- diggin.”

“I can see that.” Rarity deadpanned. “What, praytell, for?”

“Gems.” Applejack answered quickly.

“I meant why, darling,” huffed Rarity.

Applejack sighed and said, “Spike’s been helpin’ me out a lot lately and I was wanting to find a nice big diamond or ruby to give to him as a sign of my appreciation. I know he likes gemstones, especially the one you gave him last year.”

Rarity eyed her friend, but suddenly smiled and said, “Well, why didn’t you just say so, Applejack!” At that, the generous mare swept her aura across the land until, “Et voila!”

“Find one already?” Applejack asked, amazed.

“I sure did, darling. Take a look.” Rarity flagged the area she divined and stood by as Applejack readied her shovel. Several scoops of dirt later and Applejack emerged victorious. Rarity was correct, for it was a deposit all right, and a beauty at that. It was a red emerald, or red beryl, as Rarity described it. There was no doubt in Applejack’s mind that Spike would appreciate this gem. Even the fashionista eyed it longingly, though her attempts to veil that desire had failed. This was an extremely rare find and Applejack could not contain her glee. Her emerald eyes glistened as the red beryl shone in the midday sun.

“Well, Applejack,” Rarity began. “I hope Spike enjoys that gem. It’s not often you find a piece like that.”

“Thank you, Rarity. I know how hard this must be for you to let this gem go. Spike will appreciate it all the more, knowing that even you gave it up for him.”

“Spike is a sweetheart and a gentledrake,” declared Rarity. “I know that he will make somepony, or somedragon very happy someday.”

“Yeah,” replied Applejack evenly. “Somepony. Someday.”

“Anyway,” said Rarity, “you wouldn’t happen to know where Spike is at the moment, do you, darling? I wish to invite his up here to help me dig.”

“You mean make him do all the work?” Applejack teased as she picked the gem up with her hoof and placed it in her mouth. Rarity rolled her eyes but made no retort. “I’ll let ‘im know you sent for ‘im, Rare,” she mumbled with her mouth full. Applejack turned to leave, a wide grin on her face amid the gem stuffed in it.

“Thank you, Applejack. I will see you again soon!” The farm mare was already out of sight.

Spike resolved that afternoon to never have offspring. Ever. He came to this conclusion as he rubbed away the newest scuff mark to grace his scales among many others. This is the last time I help the so-called ‘Crusaders’ in their quest for Cutie Marks. Spike shuddered as his mind replayed the antics of the ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders: Horseshoe Tossing Champions’ assay repeatedly. Apple Bloom seemed to have it in for him as she tossed the hardest and appeared to aim for his head crest rather than his tail as a goal. Sweetie Bell barely cleared half a meter’s toss and Scootaloo was as accurate as an inebriated hydra tumbling down a waterfall. At least the image of said hydra managed to get a bemused chuckled from an otherwise sore Spike. He may have been coated in dragon scales, but he was not completely invulnerable to metal shoes being hurled at rainboom speeds.

The sight of Applejack approaching down the road made it all seem worthwhile. He did not know why, but he ran to her and she seemed to quicken her pace at the sight of him as well. As the two neared one-another, Spike noted the used shovel slung onto her back and the....

“Is that red beryl?” Spike asked. His eyes widened and his long tongue drew saliva.

“Eeyup!” Applejack beamed through the gem she carried in her mouth.

Spike asked, almost hesitantly, “Is—is that for me?”

Applejack’s emerald eyes shone even brighter as she nodded. With an extended claw, Spike receive his prize. “For you, sugarcube,” said Applejack as she stretched her sore jaw.

Spike simply stared at the scrumptious treat, then back to she who gifted it to him. “You spent all this time digging this up for me? What did I do?”

Applejack chuckled, “What did I do to have such a nice dragon go out of his way to make my day a little brighter?” Spike held the gem close and the farm mare looked at him with concern, “Don’t you like it, Spike? You can eat it, you know?”

Spike sighed contentedly, “No, not yet. I think I’ll save it for a special occasion.”

Applejack chuckled and walked past Spike, brushing her tail along his knees. “Suit yourself, sugarcube. It’s worth it just to see that big ol’ grin on your face.”

Spike watched Applejack as she walked toward the farmhouse, the gentle sway of her tail and grace of her walk simply beckoned him to follow. He swore she was grinning to herself as he did so.

Suddenly, a red motion caught Spike’s eye. Big MacIntosh ran around the barn, but halted as his eye caught Applejack’s. “Big Mac?” she called. “What’s got you all up in a tizzy?”

“It’s the coop, AJ!”

Applejack’s expression melted from smug to sheer despair she took off after her brother, leaving a confused Spike in her wake. He decided to follow them.

It was gone. All gone. Big MacIntosh was already trying to comfort Applejack, who sat sobbing. her hat was tumbled on the ground, unheeded. Spike looked past them and saw the chicken coop, or what remained of it. What was once the quaint blue hen house that graced the Apple Family property now lay in splintered shambles, a heavy branch lay directly atop the wreakage.

“How did this happen?” Applejack choked, fighting a losing battle with freshly recruited tears.

“Gust of wind knocked loose an old branch from the elm next to the coop, AJ,” Big MacIntosh explained. “None of the chickens were hurt, since Apple Bloom was feedin’ ‘em outside at the time.”

“Is she alright?”

“Just fine, AJ.”

“And the coop? Can we afford to replace it?” she asked between sobs. Something told Spike that she already knew the answer, hence why she was upset in the first place.

“Nope, ‘fraid not, sis.” Big Mac lowered his head and frowned deeply.

“There’s no room in the budget for the parts we’d need. Can we salvage?”

“Nope,” Big Mac said again. “Wood’s been splintered somethin’ awful.”

“What are our options, then?” Applejack sniffed. Big Mac remained silent as ever. Applejack growled, “So, is that it? We can’t do nothin’?”

Big Mac didn’t answer.

“Ma and Pa built that hen house with no more than a few bits to their names! We can do the same!”

“Ma and Pa had help, AJ,” responded the red stallion. “We neither have the time or the bits to repair and keep up with harvest.

“Then I’ll work in town after I’m done here. I can earn an double income until harvest is over.”

“And what about the chickens until then?” Big Mac raised a major point.

The eldest of Apple siblings continued this exchange, both unaware of Spike standing behind them. Before long, he decided that he could not hope to comfort Applejack while she debated with her brother. He watched Apple Bloom tending to the chickens, who were undoubtedly stressed and each nearing a heart attack. He could no longer stand by while Applejack sat, despondent and lost amid the world. He wished to help, though any that he could provide lay elsewhere.

He ran back to the library and Applejack did not take notice for the tears in her eyes and the pain in her heart.

Applejack sat before the remnants of her family’s chicken coop, lost amid herself. She sighed as she felt her grip on the farm slipping from her very hooves, as if this event triggered some irreversible chain of loss. She couldn’t even look to Spike, who had simply vanished amid her heated debate with Big MacIntosh, who stormed off to simmer in silence, lest he say something he would later regret. Thus, she was alone as Apple Bloom gathered the chickens into her clubhouse for the night.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” The voice startled Applejack from her stupor. She turned to see a heavyset earth pony, pulling a cart filled with building materials. Two other ponies accompanied his, all three wearing hard hats and neglected stubble on their broad chins.

“Can I help you?” asked Applejack cautiously as she eyes the cart.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Jack. I’m Ball Pein and these are my associates from Ball Pein & Hammer Construction. We’ve been contracted to build a hen house after we clear the wreckage from previous one. May I ask how many chickens do you hold?”

Applejack was speechless. A little voice answered for her instead, “Thirty, sir. We have thirty chickens.”

Ball Pein looked at the filly, then back to Applejack, who merely nodded a confirmation.

“All right, then,” stated the contractor pony. “Our billing called for a house for at least fifty, so they will have some room after we’re done. Boys, lets clear this wreckage!”

“Wait!” Applejack found her voice. “How am I paying for all this?”

“No need, Miss Jack. All materials and labour have been bought and paid for.” Ball Pein smiled as he held out an invoice.

“It’s not signed,” Applejack commented.

“Oh, it’s signed, Miss. It’s just illegible. But trust me, he paid in cash, so I’m not complaining.”

So it was signed, Applejack noted. The signature was a messy scrawl that she could barely register as Equestrian mouthwriting. “Do you know who it was, at least?” she asked.

“Yeah, some talking dragon — couldn’t believe it myself until my secretary actually brought me out to see the guy, but he had the bits and you’re not even here anymore and I’m talking to myself.” Ball Pein trailed off as Applejack bolted out of sight and into Ponyville proper.

“I’m still here,” Apple Bloom watched, fascinated by the contents of the stallion's tool belt and cart.

“Well, at least I’m not talkin’ to myself.” Ball Pein sighed.

“Can I help?” Apple Bloom begged.

“You’re a cute kid, you know that?” the contractor pony smiled as he turned to oversee his team.

“I’m pretty good with power tools! ‘Specially jigsaws!”

Applejack fought the urge to strangle Spike as she charged through the streets of Ponyville.

Why would he do that? What does he have to gain by tossing his bits around like that? How did he even get his claws on that kinda money? Why does all this have to happen today? He’s got a lot of explaining to do before I kill him.

Or kiss him. Whichever comes first.

When she reached the library, Applejack saw that the door was unlocked, so she entered without knocking. She settled in declaring her presence in another fashion.

“Spike! Get your scaly behind over here now!”

At that, the purple-scaled dragon meekly poked his head around the corner that lead to the kitchen. The smell that emanated from that direction nearly disarmed Applejack altogether. No. She shook her head and stepped toward Spike. Kill him or kiss him. That beautiful bugger. She didn’t have to do either, for she collapsed into Spike’s waiting arms as she wept heavily into his smooth chest.

“Why did you do it, Spike?” she shot.

“Do I need a reason?” he returned gently.

“Yes, for me, just this once,” she buried her shout in his chest once again.

“The honest truth?” he clarified.

“Or I’m not the Element of Honesty.”

“I just care for you, AJ. You and your family deserve much more than what I willingly gave today. If I could, I would give more.”

“No,” sniffed Applejack. “Don’t say that. You’ve done enough already.” Her stomach growled. She glanced outside and saw that the sun was beginning to set.

“Heh,” she chuckled, “in all this excitement, I forgot about supper.”

“I haven’t,” Spike replied. “Stay with me for supper?”

“Spike, I’d love to, but I promised my family that I’d make it this time. But don’t think that this is over! You still owe me an explanation!”

Spike held her tighter against him. She felt the heat of his internal furnace rising and she could not help but enjoy it. Finally, her resolve began to crumble, if not for the a few more moments against the warm scales, than for the great smell rising from the kitchen.

“I guess I can stay this once,” she sighed sheepishly. If she was not ready to be completely honest with Spike, she could at least be honest with herself.

She was falling in love with the most beautiful creature in all of Equestria.

And he was dragon that she had never kissed.

Applejack had to hand it to Spike: he knew his way around the kitchen. He had fixed her a tossed daisy salad with some unique eggplant and rice entree served with homemade oat bread. She could not deny that she loved every bite, even asking for seconds. For many long moments, the pair simply sat, content in their united silence and cheerful chewing.

When they had finished, it was she who spoke first, “Wow-wee, Spike. I must admit that ya have outdone yourself here.” She slumped back in her seat, her stomach rolling with satisfaction. “It’s not often you get a hard worker and a decent chef.”

Spike smiled, his cheeks taut with every stroke of his ego.

Something burned in his mind, a question that he hoped that she could answer. He began with, “Applejack?”

“Yes, Spike?” she responded in her own friendly way.

“Do you feel like we’ve met before?” he murmured.

Applejack straightened in her stool slightly to consider his query and her answer. “Do you mean before ya’ll came into Ponyville?”

“Yes,” he said.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met before, Spike,” she said carefully before she added, “At least, not in person.”

“Do you believe in the existence of past lives?” he was full of questions all of a sudden. Before she could answer, he continued, “Because I remember Twilight talking to the Princess about dying and memories carrying over with the spirit into another pony or dragon or lion or any creature, really.”

“So, what you’re asking me,” began Applejack, “is if we’ve met before, like some sorta—”

“Past life, yes.” Spike terminated her statement.

Applejack’s eyes searched the ceiling, as if her answer resided up there. Her eyebrows furrowed and oscillated with the conjuring of thought. Finally, she responded, “Come to think of it, I have felt that. Especially over the last little while.”

“Everything must have been simpler then,” Spike wondered aloud.

“Sugarcube, things can’t get any more simpler than they are now.” Applejack looked at her companion, cocking her head to one side.

“No,” corrected Spike. “I mean that everything must have felt really simple, as if it was meant for little foals; nothing complicated or too challenging. Just happy ponies and friendship.”

Applejack could not help but chuckle at the images that came to her mind, trying hard to imagine a previous generation of ponies with no inhibitions or hardships of any kind. In her laughter, her eyes fell upon Spike once more, who simply stared back at her. The two regarded one another with newfound curiosity, each feeling the distance of their connection. They held each-others’ gazes.

As a distant memory, they grasped their familiarity; from many an age and generation past. It was in simpler times, long before the Nightmare, so far away. Once, they did know one another. Once, hoof and claw met in friendship then, as now. Spike felt the soft-coated hoof of Applejack placed atop his waiting palm. They had reached out for one another, unknowing.

“AJ,” whispered the dragon.

“Yeah, Spike?” whispered Applejack in return.

“You must think I am a very strange dragon,” he offered her a crooked grin.

She chuckled and said, “The strangest one I’ve had the pleasure of knowin’.”

“How about kissing?” he asked, honestly.

She breathed, just as honestly, “Only one way t’find out, sugarcube.”

The two leaned in toward one another, uncertain adventure present in their trembling lips. Closer, they neared until each could feel the others deepening breaths against their shouts. Then

–

“Ah!” A certain brilliant unicorn found herself smartly on the floor, the door she was leaned up against suddenly wide open. She wore the same expression of shock and disbelief she had held throughout the past minutes with her ear against the previously closed door. Spike jumped into Applejack’s hooves and Applejack jumped from her seat. Both screamed at the startling interruption. Twilight rose and gathered herself from the floor. Her wide eyes passed to and from the formerly purple dragon and formerly orange farm mare, both of whom had become severely reddened.

“How long?” demanded an exasperated Twilight.

“We was ‘bout to ask you the same thing, Twi!” Applejack turned her shock into ire.

“When did you get back?” Spike regained his composure, but chose to remain wrapped in Applejack’s forelimbs.

“I’m asking the questions here!” Twilight choked.

As quickly as Applejack had become angry, so did she release her anger when she saw the dried tears trailed along the sides of her friend’s face. She sighed and relinquished Spike from her grasp. “I’ll be honest,” the earth pony began, “neither Spike nor myself know how or why, but it just is, y’understand what I’m sayin’?”

Twilight shook her head, “But why now? Why did this even happen at all!”

Applejack took a step back and narrowed her eyes, “Are you sayin’ y’all don’t agree with our choice, Twilight?” Spike looked both confused and hurt as he looked his eldest friend in the eye.

“It’s not like that, Applejack,” Twilight urged, fresh tears beginning to flow. As they did so, the farm mare could not easily hold on to her incredulity.

Her hard gaze softened and she asked, “Then why the spyin’, an’ those disbelievin’ eyes, Twi?” Spike walked up to the unicorn, concern written across his green eyes. Twilight could barely meet them.

“Twilight,” Spike took her in a firm embrace, “what’s going on?”

“This just makes things harder, Spike,” was all that Twilight could manage before the sobbing began to overrun her reason. She soon found that Applejack joined Spike in the reassuring hug.

“Now, now, sugarcube. There ain’t nothin’ t’worry ‘bout. Anything you need to say, just come out and speak it truthful. Spike an’ I ain’t changed one bit, regardless of our feelings t’wards one another.”

“So it’s TRUE!” The mares and dragon jumped in unison as a tremendous ‘bang’ preceded a shower of streamers and confetti. A dozen white doves fluttered through an open window. A large banner unfurled, hanging from the topmost bookshelves of the library. Upon it was written in blocky scrawl:

Congrats Applejack and Spike!

Pinkie Pie popped her cotton candy-maned head up from between the hugging friends, her bright sky blue eyes filled with mirth. “I knew it! I knew it!” she bubbled. “I could smell this little love fire burning from a hundred miles away! Actually, it was more like point three kilometers away, because Sugarcube Corner is just down the street, but I should also take into account that Sweet Apple Acres is a fair trot away, but these things are never consistent with the narrative anyway!”

Pinkie Pie rambled on and on about the specific details of the Pony Metric System when another familiar face burst through the window. Her disheveled spectral mane and bright rosy eyes preceded a wide grin, “Hey everypony! Enjoy that ‘bang’? A little personal touch to this celebration: a sonic rainboom at twenty-thousand feet. Impeccable timing, as usual!” Rainbow Dash gloated as she flew into the library and settled down next to the still-hugging group. The pegasus shrugged and said, “Eh, why not?” She added her own strength to the stiff group-embrace.

“Oh yes,” a little voice cooed from the same window that Rainbow Dash had entered. “It’s always so nice to see a couple together, um, no matter what others may say. But, they are allowed to say whatever they want. I would never take that right from them.” Fluttershy timidly flapped her cream-coloured wings, gently gathering her little doves from around the library. As she herded them, the pink-maned pegasus smiled, saying, “Thank you so much, little doves! Your help made this event so wonderfully special for my friends and I can’t thank you enough. Don’t let me take up any more of your time now.” The doves obeyed without a coo between them as they began to fly from the window in single file, “Goodnight!” Fluttershy called after them. Seeing the group hug, she hesitantly approached before lending her own embrace to the confused mass.

Last to show was Rarity, who wore her best saddle. Her eyes were also lined with a light makeup that somehow enhanced their azure irises while masking the presence of any makeup at all. Her purple mane bounced healthily, the curls on both her alabaster head and matching tail shining like silk. Through the front door she strode, elegant and regal. Suspended in the air by her horn’s magical properties was a neatly wrapped package that bore the names of Spike and Applejack in fancy quill strokes. Smiling, she placed the gift down onto the table before energetically adding herself to the congratulatory squeeze the group of friends had down themselves in.

They were all there, her closest friends, including her number one assistant. Twilight should have been overcome with joy, but she found her heart breaking even more in the past minutes’ unfolding events. She couldn’t handle it any more. She shouted from within the pile of ponies, “ENOUGH!” Startled, the mares broke the embrace and backed away from her with concern in their eyes. Only Spike remained, clutching onto her, fighting back tears of his own. Applejack stood by him, a reassuring hoof on his shoulder, her green eyes locked onto Twilight.

The purple mare sighed heavily, feeling the pressure of all eyes being on her. Before she could explain, Rarity spoke, “Did I miss something, darling?”

“Yeah, what gives, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash crooked an eyebrow.

“Well that puts a damper on the party!” Pinkie Pie sat down, crestfallen. “But it’s still a party!” She was up and attentive once more.

Fluttershy simply whimpered, making herself as small as possible.

Applejack spoke softly, “Twi, you can tell us anything. We’re your friends and we are here to help.”

“I know,” Twilight answered. “I know that you will all find out one way or another. I was hoping to speak with Spike alone, but you all deserve to know.” She inhaled deeply, the tears threatening to resurface. “I arrived from Canterlot last night. Spike wasn’t home, so I decided to wait, and sent the Princess’ chariot away until I summoned them again.

“I must have fallen asleep because the sun was up and Spike was gone this morning when I awoke. I didn’t want anypony else to know that I was back before I was due, so I waited for him to return so I could tell him –”

“Tell me what?” Spike interrupted.

“To tell you that you need to come to Canterlot because…” she lost yet another battle with her overpowering tears. Spike hugged her harder, upset with his best friend’s sadness.

“Because your parents are looking for you.”

The room fell deathly silent then. Rarity’s jaw dropped, Rainbow Dash stopped flying, Pinkie Pie’s eyes widened and Fluttershy simply whimpered again.

“My,” Spike worded slowly, “parents?” Twilight nodded, closing her eyes.

“I don’t think I understand, Twi,” Applejack found herself wanting to pull Spike closer to her.

Twilight looked at her and said, “I think you do, AJ. They have come to Canterlot.”

“You mean my mom and dad are still around, and they’re in Canterlot as we speak?”

“Yes, Spike. That is what I am saying,” Twilight confirmed.

“And they want to see me?” Spike’s eyes widened at the possibility of seeing his true mother and father, something he secretly wished since his hatching. Why then, was Twilight so sad?

The realization hit him. “They want to take me with them.” Twilight nodded, clenching her teeth and holding back her sobs.

Applejack shook her head. “No,” she said. “They can’t just take him away! Why now?” The weight of this revelation began to take its toll on the farm mare. She was happy, her friends were happy, even Spike seemed happy with the developments between them. For as unexpected and unintentional as it was, she could see herself being his, and he being hers. She had all the support she needed, but all she could feel was him slipping away before things could get started. Applejack bit her lip as she too found herself unwilling to face these truths. Applejack was the Element of Honesty and could not help but let her true self be known. She began to join Twilight with her tears. Spike was silent, his eyes distant.

“If they wanted to take him away, then why don’t they come here themselves and just try it!” Rainbow Dash reared onto her hind legs and lashed out with quick jabs to unseen targets.

“Yes, dear,” Rarity added, “why must you do all the agonizing hoofwork of taking Spike away. That’s just uncouth!”

Pinkie Pie furrowed her dark brows, “Yeah! That’s just a big meanie thing to do, especially since he’s the Apple of Jack’s eye!” Rarity coughed.

Fluttershy did not say a word, but lowered her head in sadness.

Spike let go of Twilight’s leg and walked over to Applejack. He gently ran his claws along the side of her face, combing through her golden locks. He turned again to Twilight, asking softly, “And if I refuse to leave Ponyville?”

“Then,” Twilight answered shakily, “Canterlot is threatened to burn under the flames of your parents, and their army of fellow dragons. I don’t doubt then they will come here and take you by force.” Rainbow Dash halted her invisible sparring and Pinkie Pie’s eyes darkened with gloom. Rarity gasped before fainting. Fluttershy whimpered.

Applejack clenched her teeth, fighting back her despair, “Is there no other way?” She nuzzled her dragon.

“None,” Twilight sat down. “I only have until tomorrow before sundown to bring him back with me.”

“But there has to be!” Spike stomped his foot to the hardwood. “I can’t just leave everypony behind!” He looked back toward Applejack, whose face did not veil her concern.

“Spike,” Twilight placed her hooves on his shoulders to steady him, “I know that you want to fight this and believe me, I do too!”

“Then why don’t you fight with me?” Spike demanded.

“Because Princess Celestia once told me that I would have to pick my battles some day, that not all problems have easily found solutions, and even if I found them, they would not always be easy to choose. In this case, we have no choice.”

“There’s always a choice, Twilight!” Spike’s eyes set with anger as he ground his claws into the hardwood. Smoke billowed from his nostrils, nearly causing everypony to step back.

Twilight had to get through to her little brother, “Technically, yes. You’re right, Spike.” The dragon’s fumes ceased and he looked at her with softened eyes. “But,” Twilight continued, “if you choose to fight, not only will Canterlot be in danger, but so will Ponyville when they come searching. Who knows what they will do on the way here.” Spike’s shoulders drooped a little as his sister spoke on, “And in trying to defend your right to stay put, we will lose everything. Applejack will lose everything if they decide to turn their vengeance on her.” Spike’s eyes did not meet Twilight’s, but instead took interest in the furrows he had gouged into the floor.

“In that case,” said Spike, his eyes focused on Applejack’s and his tone that of surety, “I will leave right away if that means saving all the ponies I know,” he smiled weakly at the farm mare, “and love.” He gave Applejack the biggest hug his arms could fashion. She nuzzled his scaly cheek and savored its warmth.

Applejack could not respond to his declaration. Her heavy heart sealed her quivering lips.

Finally, he hesitantly broke the embrace and walked over to Rainbow Dash. “I don’t know if I will ever see you again, RD, but it’s been a real blast.”

“Likewise, Spike,” she smiled sadly, hugging him.

“Show those Wonderbolts who’s boss,” he smiled.

“Well, you’ve gotta save ‘em first, chum.” Dash released the dragon and watched as he moved to Pinkie Pie.

Before he could properly say his goodbyes, she tackled him and said, “Spikey! Please don’t forget your Aunty Pinkie Pie and all of her fantabulous funifferous parties!” She proceeded to lift him in the air and hug him as tightly as she could, for she knew it would be their last. It was a feat that Spike would puzzle for a long time, but never decided to question, for Pinkie Pie was just that: Pinkie Pie.

“Thanks, Pinkie,” he gasped between squeezes, “it’ll be impossible to forget Equestria’s premier party pony.”

He turned to Fluttershy, who talked wasted no time in tackling him down as well. “Oh, Spike,” she began, tears in her wide eyes, “I would never wish ill on any creature, not even those scary dragons, but I know you can appeal to them not to hurt anyone. I will miss you, Spike.”

“Thank you, Fluttershy,” he responded, “and please tell Angel that there’s no hard feelings.” She smiled and nodded before helping him up to his feet. Spike then approached Rarity. An awkward silence transpired between the two of them.

“Spike,” she began, clearing her throat, “nothing I can say will ever be enough to convey just how marvelous an assistant you are! Were you a stallion, I daresay that –” a look from Applejack severed her train of thought.

Spike simply chuckled, “I will miss helping you out too, Rarity. I am just glad to know that we’ll always be friends.” Like all the others, she embraced him. There was a time when Spike’s heart would have imploded at this gesture, but that time had passed. He returned the hug as she elevated her gift into his hands.

“For you and Applejack, Spike. I think you will both need it now more than ever. Take care of each other, regardless of where you might end up, know that we are all still connected.”

Spike nodded and accepted Rarity’s gift before returning to Applejack’s side. He faced Twilight and said, “I may not be ready,” he began, “but I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” To this, the unicorn sadly nodded as they made their way outside.

Once in the clearing of the busy street, Twilight’s horn began to glow and a sudden audible tune rang from her lips. A sharp whistle superseded the din of the streets or the gusts of heavy wind. Within moments, Princess Celestia’s golden chariot came into view, pulled by the white pegasus guards.

Twilight was the first to enter while Spike hesitated with each step.

"Come on, Spike, we should be there early in case anything happens."

"I know, I know." Spike frowned. He turned to see the mares that watched him in turn. On each other their faces, pain could be seen. Pain and sorrow at the impending loss of a good friend. Behind them, Spike saw that Pinkie Pie wept openly, impossible waterfalls of tears gushing from her eyes clenched shut.

Rainbow Dash consoled a crestfallen Fluttershy. She nodded her farewell to the dragon.

Rarity simply stood, her sad azure eyes focused on him before she turned her head away, unable to meet his gaze.

On Applejack's face, there was naught but longing, a longing that he could no longer satisfy. With a quick glance at Twilight, he ran toward Applejack. Before she could react, he placed a firm, soothing kiss upon her lips. Her wide eyes, so filled with surprise, gave way to that longing as she closed them and returned the kiss wholesale. The precious few seconds it lasted felt an eternity to them. He wrapped his arms around her neck and she mimicked the gesture. The warmth of his scales tickled her coat as they finally parted. His green eyes locked with hers of vivid emerald.

"Goodbye, Applejack," he sniffed, forcing a smile

"Goodbye, Spike," she replied, forcing a smile also.

“AJ, I....”

“Don’t say it, hon. Please,” Applejack pleaded, her head hanging low. “I can’t bear it...”

“I love you,” the dragon finished, his tone dropping to a mere whisper..

At that, Spike reluctantly backed away, stepping nimbly into the chariot, seating himself next to a miserable-looking, yet silent Twilight.

Spike did not take his eyes off Applejack, nor she, him. At Twilight's command, the chariot lifted free of the ground. In mere seconds, Ponyville was but a shrinking image, vivid only in memory.