Chapters Unintentionally Yours
By: JusticeSnake
Edited by: PropMaster & Warden Pony
Chapter 1: Yours
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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. W ow , 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. ”
Chapter 2: Theirs
//-----------------------------
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.
Chapter 3: Ours
//-----------------------------
Spike leaned against Twilight, despite the uneasy silence between them. A great wealth of questions entered his mind, though none surfaced from his lips. What are my parents like? Are they scary? Do you think that they will really destroy Canterlot if I’m not delivered?
Will Applejack be all right?
He dismissed these questions, instead his mind wandered into thoughts of golden mane and shimmering emerald eyes gazing lovingly into his. Sun kissed cheeks, dotted with pale freckles glowed with a beautiful smile that tugged at them. He reached out to her, his fingers running through her mane. It felt like silk, much akin to Rarity’s myriad of dress designs, and heavenly to the touch.
The young dragon’s breathing deepened as he sank further against Twilight’s side. She pondered the relationship between Spike and Applejack. It worried her that the two of them even shared such a romantic connection, let alone acting upon those feelings. Applejack was nearly Twilight’s own age, at least a few years older than Spike. The dragon himself was, in fact, only a few years from his hatching. He was so young and his moments of immaturity denoted that in spades. Applejack was fully grown, independent and mature. How could she have allowed them to go that far?
Did either of them even see these things, these potential problems at all? Pinkie Pie’s celebration and all of her friends’ response to this unforeseen union seemed strange to Twilight as well. How could they so easily accept this?
Did the problem exist only in Twilight’s mind?
She pondered this as Spike’s dreamlike mumblings began to take audible form.
“Ap-jk,” he breathed incoherently, his tail twitching reflexively. Twilight could not help but rest her head upon him, causing the dragon to snuggle closer in her familiar warmth. It was not long before snoring escaped his nostrils.
Spike and Applejack, she thought, almost aloud. She tried to piece them together logically, methodically. The orange mare was, Twilight admitted, the most levelheaded of the group, even when compared to the academic herself. Applejack was strong, honest and loyal. She loved her family and held them close to her heart. Her truest love was the propagation of the Acres, an extension of her family in of itself. Above all, she worked hard. If Twilight could find any equal to her studious ways, the farm pony would be her physical incarnation. Twilight imagined the blonde-maned mare bucking apple trees and reaping their fruit, Celestia’s Sun glinting off her healthy coat. Applejack was beautiful.
Twilight looked down at the peacefully breathing Spike and did not wonder why he would be attracted to the Element of Honesty. However, the same reasons existed for her assistant’s attraction to Rarity, so she wondered what else could have drawn them together.
Assistant. The word circled around Twilight’s mind for a moment. Spike was such a hard worker, completely dedicated to helping her. It was no stretch to imagine him wanting to help Applejack when he saw the opportunity to. Twilight could see the appreciative Applejack truly connecting with Spike then, but not enough to spawn such an unlikely relationship. Twilight sighed deeply, effectively giving up the quest for any explanation, much like her abandonment of the quest to understand Pinkie Pie’s sixth sense. It no longer mattered, for they would no longer be together.
Still, she thought. He was happy. Now that was being taken away from him, just as he was being taken away from, from his life here.
She nuzzled her little dragon and took notice of his clenched eyes. Dried tears, like dead rivers, stained his scales. With her hoof, she wiped the dryness away and hugged him tightly.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his ear, as Canterlot loomed ever nearer.
Applejack was the last to enter the library. She watched as Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash took down the large banner bearing her and Spike’s names. Rarity levitated a broom and dustpan to gather the fallen confetti. Pinkie Pie solemnly gathered the balloons and cans of unused silly-filly string. Feeling as if she was the only one not working, Applejack quickly set herself to helping with the clean up, hoping that it would be enough to distract her.
As she assisted Rarity in gathering the debris, Applejack found herself rubbing her free hoof against her lips. She could feel the steam still rising within her and the faint taste of minerals that teased her tongue. Slowly, she sighed, though no pony could perceive it.
“Applejack…” a voice broke the silence, though it was but a whisper. Applejack raised her head to meet the concerned eyes of Rarity.
“Yeah, Rarity?” she responded half-heartedly.
“Um,” she bit her lip, searching for the right words to say, “What was it like?”
“Like to what?” Applejack responded, crooking an eyebrow.
“To, you know, kiss a dragon?” The fashionista almost seemed embarrassed to ask such a question.
The farm mare was almost as embarrassed to answer it in return. Closing her eyes, she simply smiled weakly and said, “I’d like to answer your question, sugarcube, but I think I’ll keep that one to myself.”
Rarity understood, nodding slowly. She tried to smile, but could not. “I’m so sorry, Applejack.”
“Don’t worry about lil’ old me, Rare,” Applejack shook her head, fighting back the failing integrity of her walled up tears. “There’s no need for me to feel sorry for myself. Ya’ll heard Twilight about them dragons.”
“Yeah, but still,” it was Pinkie Pie’s turn to speak, “you were so happy. It was nice to see you smile like that!” The party pony’s mane seemed to lose some of its volume, growing heavy and dark in the growing night.
“Not much we can do about that anymore, Pink. He’s gone and there’s nothing we can do ‘bout it.”
Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to protest, but then –
“I can’t stand it anymore!”
“Fluttershy?” The timid pegasus and her vociferation took Applejack quite aback. The cream-coloured mare held her fore-hooves to her face; her sea green eyes clenched shut.
“Why would you give up so easily on him like that?” Fluttershy pointed an accusing hoof at Applejack, who was still taken aback. The pegasus opened her eyes to reveal not soft submission, but hard determination. “You had love in your hearts, but you allowed it to slip away!”
Applejack narrowed her own eyes and spoke defensively, “There’s more to this than Spike and I, sugarcube. Innocent pony lives are at stake!”
“And yet, that has never stopped you before. That’s never stopped any of us from doing the right thing.”
“Never thought I’d say this, but Fluttershy’s right!” Rainbow Dash dropped her end of the banner and pumped a hoof in the air.
“Guys!” Pinkie Pie popped her head out from under the crumpled banner, her smile beaming, “We should totally get Spike back, that way we could continue this party and even attach another party to it! Oh – it’ll be like a ‘Congratulations Spike And AJ On Your New Relationship AND Welcome Back Spike, From The Clutches Of Nasty, Greedy Dragon Parents So You Can Continue Your Relationship With AJ Party!” By this time, everypony had tuned the pink party pony’s ramblings out, though this did not lessen the warmth that curled in Applejack’s overflowing heart.
“You know what, girls,” replied Applejack slowly, “I reckon ya’ll are right. If anypony can figure out a way to solve this, it’s us.”
“We’re your friends, cowpony,” Rainbow Dash landed right next to Applejack, grinning with confidence, “Of course we’re right.”
An inferno ignited within Applejack then, her heartbeat quickening and her breath deepening. She sought the library’s exit and stamped her hooves impatiently on the hardwood floor as if to charge through the threshold. The same fate, she surmised, would meet any pony or object that dared to obstruct her crusade. Canterlot was many leagues away, but with the furnace in her heart she would run until the high walls of that great citadel towered over her. Nothing would stop her. Except the voice of a certain pink party pony holding an outstretched hoof to her friend’s determined face.
“Wait!” cried Pinkie Pie who sat firmly in place.
“What is it, Pinkie?” Applejack did not halt her shifting hooves.
“Even if you run now, like right now and don’t stop, you won’t be able to catch the Princess’ chariot. I mean, it’s the Princess’ chariot! I bet that thing can outfly Dashie, let alone out pace an earth pony at full tilt, because I know you’re fit and all -”
“Hey!” Rainbow Dash glared at her pink friend, who was once again lost in her own conversation with nopony but herself. Applejack rolled her eyes and attempted to gently push Pinkie Pie out of her way, all under the din of the party mare’s breathless stream of words.
“- and so I figured that we could use magic instead and beat the chariot there!”
“Wait, what was that last part, Pink?” Applejack halted her efforts and actually paid heed to Pinkie Pie.
The pink pony simply blinked and smiled, copying and pasting, “- and so I figured that we could use magic instead and beat the chariot there!”
Applejack frowned and responded, “If Twilight were here, sugarcube, then I would count that as a brilliant idea.”
“Oh, we may not have Twilight, who is super-duper awesome with magic, but we do have a unicorn like Twilight.”
All eyes then turned to Rarity, who had been silent the entire time. Her deep azure eyes widened with concern when all of her friends suddenly turned to stare at her. “M-me!?” The fashionista stammered, but quickly tried to compose herself, “Surely, darling, you don’t mean me.”
“Yep!” was Pinkie Pie’s cheerful response, “I mean you, silly-filly!”
Rarity offered a nervous laugh, “I simply cannot use that level of magic, dear. Now, if you wanted me to make you fabulous, then my magic could work it instantly, but Twilight’s teleportation charm is far beyond me.”
“Not if you have this!” Pinkie Pie popped up behind the alabaster-coated mare, causing her perfectly coiffed mane to rattle out of place. In the party pony’s mouth was a rather large green notebook. In Twilight’s magical scrawl was the pad’s title: Useful Spells. Pinkie Pie dropped the book at Rarity’s hooves. The purple-maned pony levitated it to her eye level and hummed gently as she opened the cover.
Twilight Sparkle was notoriously organized and this truth sprang forward even in her rough notes, which were numbered and ordered in a table of contents. This page itself was subtitled, ‘Version 3.04’ which was to say that the lavender unicorn had spent considerable time in conceiving the perfect table of contents for her rough notes. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Rarity searched the list.
Headings and subheadings passed her sight before they settled upon one topic in particular, simply worded: Teleportation. Perfect, she smiled with success. The subheadings beneath the bolded Teleportation narrowed her search perfectly: Teleportation of the self – not quite; Teleportation of self plus others – might be useful; Teleportation of self plus objects – certainly not; Teleportation of others – getting there; Teleportation of others to self – not quite so useful, seeing as we are already all together, well, mostly; Teleportation of others to any other than the self – perfect!
“Found it,” Rarity sang with glee. Applejack’s heart brightened at the success. They watched as Rarity flipped to the corresponding section of the notebook and saw her expression crunch into that of studious concentration. After a moment, she lowered the book and studied her friend’s waiting glances. Pinkie Pie simply bounced around in enjoyment, humming happily to herself. Rarity sighed heavily and spoke after her long silence, “I have good news and bad news.”
“Well, out with it, Rare!” Applejack nearly strained against her desire to charge through the door.
Rarity narrowed her eyes at the her friend’s forcefulness and replied, saying, “Twilight herself has yet to perfect this spell, noting instability and much more practice needed. That is the bad news, mostly. The good news is that the spell seems simple enough. I just mentally process the incantation and touch my horn to your head once the transfer of essence has been complete.”
“Essence?” all the friends, including the bouncing Pinkie Pie, tilted their heads in confusion.
“What in the hay does that mean?” Applejack scratched the side of her head.
“It means,” Rarity set the notebook open-faced down to the ground, “that if I were to teleport all of you to wherever Spike or Twilight were at the moment the spell was cast, I would need to interact with an object belonging to that pony, or in this case, dragon, in order to perform this version of the spell.”
“Well, that was a mouthful,” Rainbow Dash deadpanned.
“This does present a problem, because all of you need to have something that belongs to the subject you wish to transport to,” Rarity explained. “It can’t be just anything, it must be a part of who they are, something with deep personal meaning.” Rarity closed her eyes as realization came to those of her friends. “This is why, I suspect, that Twilight has had a difficulty with this spell, because there are so many variables. Too many things could go wrong.”
“That may be true, sugarcube, but I have to try anyhow.” Applejack lowered her hat to cover the determination in her eyes.
“You mean we have to try,” Rainbow Dash nudged the orange mare’s shoulder.
“No, just me,” stated Applejack firmly. “This is my journey to make and Spike is mine to claim. I’ll make that known to his parents and we’ll see what happens next. All I know is I have to try.”
“We’re not leaving you to face his parents alone, Ay-Jay, regardless of how we may feel about big, scary dragons.” Fluttershy gulped, her fire from before dulled to embers.
Applejack ignored them as she approached Rarity, “I have something that belongs to Spike, given only to me. I hope its deep an’ personal enough to take me right to him.”
Rarity was unsure of what the farm pony meant by that statement, but trusted the weight of her words. She nodded with understanding and read Twilght’s notebook aloud in her mind. The words flowed like honey through her thoughts, becoming physical manifestations that coalesced in her horn, which began to shimmer. Before the incantation could be finalized, Rarity glanced back at Applejack, her expression unreadable. Clearing her throat, she said, “I will need to take that which belongs to both of you in order to complete the spell.” She held a hoof out expectantly. “What was it that Spike gave you?”
“The kiss.” Applejack smiled with the memory and placed a hoof gently to her lips once more.
Rarity’s eyes widened, “I don’t see how I could possibly use that.”
“I don’t think we have time to figure it out, sugarcube.” At that, Applejack took a hold of Rarity’s hoof and drew the fashionista in close to her. Applejack then said, “Just finish the spell when I give this to you.”
“But, I –” Rarity could not finish her protest, for Applejack had sealed the distance between them. Much to the surprise of the friends surrounding them, Rarity kissed Applejack. Applejack’s mind raced as her lips pressed against Rarity’s. She closed her eyes and thought of her dragon. She recalled how his lips were surprisingly soft, how his scent persisted even then. The wood smoke curled comfortably in Applejack’s memories, adding sweetness to the kiss she shared with Rarity. She tried not to think about what she was doing, focusing instead on seeing Spike once more.
Rarity, on the other hoof, was awash with panic. How scandalous! How uncouth! How dare that draft pony encroach upon her like that! Then the scent found her. A curious, yet natural mixture immediately calmed her firing nerves. Surprisingly, she did not mind it so much, perhaps because this scent was of a long-burned wood fire. The sensation of the dying embers and coiling fumes ushered in memories of resting before her fireplace on long, sleepless nights. She relaxed and let the kiss flow, allowing her eyes to shut. So, this is what it was like to kiss a dragon. Rarity had her answer, but before she could enjoy it, she found herself kissing nothing but air. With a start, her eyes shot open to see nothing but a dissipating puff of purple smoke, her friends confused and flushed faces, and lastly, a space where Applejack used to be.
The chariot landed silently upon the great balcony that overlooked the river valley below where Celestia was waiting. The moon cast the Citadel in a haunting pale glow, but did nothing to mar Celestia’s spectral mane that billowed behind her. Twilight nudged her number one assistant awake and he snorted with a start.
“Wha- here already?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his heavy eyes.
“Yes, Spike. The Princess is waiting.”
“Hello, Twilight. Hello Spike,” Celestia approached the chariot, a unreadable expression upon her ageless visage. Spike stood straight before offering a cordial bow. Twilight stared past her princess, simply nodding her head in acknowledgement of her regent.
“Please follow me, Spike, your parents are waiting.” The little dragon followed behind the regal mare, barely keeping up with her billowing, celestial tail. Through the audience chamber and down the cavernous halls lit by countless torches set aflame, the trio proceeded. The starry sky met them upon their final approach to the royal gardens.
Before Spike’s eyes could register what they bore witness to, a great voice preceded any understanding, “Hatchling of so many years before, stolen and yet kept safe, thou hast returned at last!” Spike shrank before the crimson-armoured male who received him. The large head of Royum Dadaelus swayed to face his mate, speaking, “Timid, is he not?”
“It is to be expected when all others tower above you.” Royum Nalthanida’s cool green eyes met the fiery ones of her husband.
To this, Dadaelus simply grunted and faced Celestia, “You ponyfolk have made him soft, and have dulled his senses with your kindness, your laughter.” Steam rose from his flaring nostrils. Spike cringed and Twilight brought herself closer to her number-one assistant, mentally preparing herself for a quick teleportation to spirit the pair to safety, should the elder dragon’s temper grow worse.
“Being in the company of the purveyors of the Elements of Harmony,” responded Celestia, unmoved, “I would expect nothing but great things from your son, my old friend.” Dadaelus grunted dismissively. “Do not write him off so easily.”
“I assure you, Celestia, that if I deemed him unworthy of his heritage, he would not have lived so long as he has before my presence.” Dadaelus drew himself to full height as his claws raked across the prim lawn, producing deep gouges beneath his steel-black claws.
Celestia’s expression did not shift with this display, but simply said, “My gardeners will not be pleased with those gouges, Dadaelus.” The Dragonlord returned to his relaxed position on all fours, a dangerous smile upon his reptilian lips. A long silence settled between the pair of rulers.
Nalthanida lowered her head and locked her green eyes upon Spike. When she was level with him, she spoke softly, saying, “Come to me, little one.” Spike gulped and obeyed, shuffling quietly toward her great snout. When he was mere feet away, the lady dragon drew a deep breath and inhaled his scent. Instantly, her large eyes widened with recognition. “Thou were the egg that I would have named Severezhad, had thee survived the hatching. The smallest and softest of my entire clutch, yet cherished all the same.”
“Mommy?” Nalthanida grinned as Spike’s own emerald eyes widened, his ear pricked with a sound he had all but forgotten. Her voice was a sensation that echoed with the undeniable truth. These were his parents. His very soul bore the brunt of that truth. He reached a claw out to her and pressed it gently upon her blue snout.
Twilight wanted to say something, anything, but she simply stared at the exchange. It was so seamless, so natural. She watched as the lady dragon extended a hand toward him, scaly palms open, welcoming. She dreaded his step toward the dragon and wanted to scream when he did. But, before he went any further, his head turned and their eyes met. Hers, a pleading purple hue, moistened with ready tears, while with his, a faint emerald glow, much like his mothers, denoting both uncertainty and fear of submission.
“Let us go now, Severezhad.”
Severezhad. Spike pondered the name. It sounded old, as if it were lost in time only to be unearthed and put to use once more. He didn’t like it at all, but that was his name. The Princess named him Spike, the only name he had ever known. He wore it proudly. Ever pony he had ever known had called him that. Spike felt right, even though it was a lie. Heck, he entire existance was a lie from where he stood. Still, the lie was better than no existence at all. He preffered the lie because it had given him everything he had ever loved. It gave him friendship, learning, work, play, a big sister, a loving place to live and grow. Most recently, it had given him Applejack.
Applejack. He would never see her again. If he left now, he would never hold her, love her, be her special somedragon. If he left, he would die as Spike the dragon, the lie he cherished. If he left, he would transform into something brutal, brash and ugly. He would become truth itself: Severezhad, the Royumi Prince.
He preferred the world of lies. At least Applejack was a part of that world.
Spike’s eyes then narrowed as he turned to face his mother,“No.”
“What?” Dadaelus barked, shocked. His eyes brightened into malicious red torches. Nalthanida drew her head back, her icy eyes melting with hurt before they evaporated into rage, though she said nothing.
“I said no.” Spike glared at the towers of scale and anger that stood before him.
“Then you condemn Canterlot and these ponies to death!” Dadaelus bellowed. He reared his great head back and fire sprang from his mouth in an upward plume. Twilight ducked and hid herself. Celestia stood perfectly still.
“Why?” Spike shouted back. “Why am I suddenly so precious to you! Where were you all those years ago?” Black smoke puffed from his nostrils. Nalthanida simply stared at her son. Eventually Dadaelus brought himself to look upon his defiant offspring.
“I’ve lost you once, Severezhad.” The lady dragon brought her head low so that Spike could see her at his level. “I am willing to do whatever it takes to never lose you again.”
“Even burn down Canterlot?” Spike asked.
“I would burn the entire world if I could but have all my children return to me.”
“All?” Spike became confused.
“Yes,” Dadaelus interrupted. “You were the last among several Royumi.”
“But the only one to survive.” Celestia chimed in as both adult dragons eyes fell upon her.
Spike then looked upon his surrogate pony princess of a mother, his eyes wide. Then he asked, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“In time, you were going to know,” answered Celestia evenly. “I did not expect that it would be while you were still so young.” Her eyes then began sad, wistful. Spike looked away from her.
“I am not so young anymore, Celestia.” Spike glowered. He then looked over at Twilight who hesitated in taking a step toward him.
“Am I not allowed to grow up as I want to?” Spike asked, but it was not directed to his best friend, his surrogate sister. Nor was it addressed even to Celestia, his mentor or even to those who would be his true parents.
He thought about Applejack.
“I am not allowed to love?”
“You are allowed to come with us, Severezhad,” answered his mother. “You will learn your place among the stars and you will be glad when you do.”
“Come, son,” urged Dadaelus, softly, his fire ebbed. “Let us fly - save your friends.”
You have to do this. You must protect Applejack. You know this to be true and there’s no way around it. Spike sighed, defeated. He sniffed as he held his gaze onto Twilight before looking over his shoulder, “One moment, please, mother.” Nalthanida nodded.
Spike ran toward Twilight, arms open. She ran to him and received his tight embrace.
“Oh, Spike,” whispered the young unicorn, “I am going to miss you so much. I hate to see you go.”
“Don’t worry about me, Twilight, you’ll have to make do on your own. I miss you already, but remember that I can still write.”
“You’re right,” she sniffed. “I wish you nothing but the best with your family. Do wonderful things, Spike. I know you will.”
“I hope so,” he responded, a lump in his throat barely audible. “Take care of the girls as well. Especially Applejack. Please, tell her-”
“I know, Spike. She knows as well, but I will tell her all the same.” She nuzzled him, much to Dadaelus’ dismay, though he held his forked tongue. At that, the purple dragon slunk back toward his mother’s awaiting palm and slowly crawled onto it and was carried away.
“Our deed is done, wife,” thundered Dadaelus, “I will meet you at the gathering place to dismiss the Thousand. Be careful with your new burden.” The great red dragon glanced at his diminutive son before looking skyward.
With powerful gusts, the mighty wings of the draconic pair beat the air and they were off. Twilight lowered her head and allowed the Princess to drape a caring white wing over her entire body. She wept as the great pair took themselves and their broodling, her best friend away.
The cold night persisted as Celestia and Twilight sat side by side. The Sun Regent’s billowing mane caressed the weeping lavender unicorn, but the Princess remained silent. Then, something broke that silence, “Thou hast requested my presence sister?”
“Yes, Luna, I am in dire need of your assistance.” Celestia closed her eyes as the tall, darkly regal Princess of the Night materialized before her. Twilight appeared to pay no heed, though her quiet sniffling had slowed tremendously. She had known the mare she had defeated, Nightmare Moon’s vessel. Now, instead of terrifying, Luna was gentle. Her fierce stance was replaced by a proud composure. Rather than being far too frightful to gaze upon, Princess Luna was now too beautiful for one to easily look away. Her own flowing mane matched the starry skies above, coupling with her dark beauty.
“Your will is mine own, dearest sister,” was Luna’s response.
“Just as mine is yours,” Celestia smiled.
“Thine request is simple enough and I will see it done.”
“And you know of what I ask before I ask it, Luna?”
“Indeed,” answered the tall, dark mare with a grin on her face, “Thou wishest for me to follow the Dragonlord and his mate to their encampment and espy their intent. This I will gladly do, for my ponies matter as much to me as they do to thee.”
Celestia’s smile broadened, but only enough for Luna to appreciate. The Royal Sisters exchanged nods before Luna closed her eyes and dissolved into a nebulous shroud of mist, visible by no pony, scarcely detectable by even the keenest of senses. Against the easterly winds, the shroud crawled, following the trail of the dragons’ vapour.
Applejack found herself both cold and wet. One moment, she was in the library bucking herself for having to kiss Rarity, the next, she found herself ears deep in a cold wet mud, bathed in moonlight. The only part of her that was dry was her hat, which was better than nothing, she supposed. As she crawled out of the bog, she could not help but wonder how Rarity would have reacted to such a landing. She nearly chuckled with the imagery of a panicking fashionista before she suddenly realized that she was, indeed, alone. From what she could see, trees surrounded her.
“Am I in Everfree?” she wondered aloud to herself, “What in the hay would I be doing there? Spike went to Canterlot.” She stomped the ground in frustration that the spell didn’t work, though she noted that something felt unnatural. The ground was very compact and pebbly, falt and hard. A hard consistency could only be found in a road.
A road? Applejack became perplexed. Why would there be a road right smack-dab in the middle of Everfree? That don’t make a lick a’ sense. She turned to look at the stars, but something caught her eye mid-glance. It was a warm glow amid the darkness, a flickering of a nearby light. A camp fire, perchance? Regardless, she felt drawn to it if that glow was, by any means, a way of escaping this forest.
With mud dripping from her coat and heart beating heavily, Applejack approached the mysterious light, keeping sure to be feathery on her hooves and silent as the grave. As she neared, her nose pricked at the scent of wood burning, old pine and ash. She recognized the nature of the smell, though it was not quite the same. It lacked the gentleness of Spike’s woodfire smell and was more... intense. It made her feel uneasy. Still, she pressed on toward the light where then she overheard voices, carried far in the cool air.
Then she found them: dragons. And not simply one or two, or even a small group, but a legion of what she suspected were hundreds. This was the army and this was their siege encampment.
She saw the fire, its sparks touching the night, its smoke drifting on an easterly wind. About the large blaze were many dragons, scaly and fierce-looking. Quickly, the farm mare took to the thickets and edged slowly toward the ever-growing light, accompanied by the ever-clearer conversations. One such dialogue met her ears and she could see the one who spoke.
“I say we strike at dawn!” declared a deep, dark and dangerous voice.
“Nay, Kàndelthylt,” replied a much more aged voice from a raspy throat, “We are gathered to follow the will of Lord Dadaelus. If he wishes to attack, then we shall. If the ponies violate the agreed terms, we shall have our promised prizes within the citadel. If he is satisfied with his demands, then we depart and disband forever.” Applejack could not see the bearer of the second voice, but she was relieved all the same to hear peace amongst these folk.
The first dragon hissed, “Now our Lord returns.” Were it not for the gloss of his black scales or the fiendish glow of his blue eyes, Applejack would not have seen the dragon. With a great gust that nearly took the muddied pony’s hat away, another, much larger crimson dragon landed among the countless others. Unlike the one who greeted him, this dragon was powerfully built and lordly in stature, truly the most stupendous reptile she had ever witnessed.
There was a brief silence before the rasped voice of the second dragon rose in greeting, “Hail! Hail Royum Dadaelus, Lord of Dragons!” At last, Applejack could see the bearer of the voice of reason. Indeed, the aged tone betrayed the withered appearance of the speaking dragon. His scales, once amber and bright, were dulled and without sheen. His furled wings bore the scars of former dominance; a deep furrow graced the side of his grey head where once a lavish crest protruded. His eyes were of a faint white, all colour lost with age. Was he blind? The pony wondered.
She did not have time to consider, for the great crimson wyrm known as Dadaelus answered the hail, “We are well met once more, Nestoramnen, old friend and trusted advisor.”
“Have the ponies honoured the pact, Lord? Have you received your son?” asked old Nestoramnen.
Before the great one could answer, the black-scaled dragon known as Kàndelthylt interrupted, “Or shall we make ready for immediate assault? My belly aches for fresh pony flesh.” A long dark tongue ran hungrily along black-scaled lips, an act that cast a cold shiver up Applejack’s spine.
“I shall let you judge for yourselves, friends.” The voice of the crimson dragon was bold, but dignified, even as he glared at the one who spoke before him. Within moments, another dragon touched down with a mighty flap of its wings. This dragon, against the glow of the moon and fire, was slighter than the others - feminine, too. Her scales were a brilliantly beautiful pale sea green. The greetings exchanged did not catch the orange pony’s attention so much as the charge carried by the female dragon’s open palm.
Spike! Her mind flared and heart soared, though she remained hushed for fear of discovery. The spell had worked, after all. Rarity will be relieved and Twilight will be happier than a porker in a mud wallow. As she beamed, she watched him, silent. His green eyes were wide and unsure. Her smile disappeared when she saw how he was afraid. She desperately fought the urge to charge in and take him away from there. Just as Spike was silent and afraid, so was the company of dragons silent and unsure.
“Harumph!” A blast of smoke shot from the flaring nostrils of Kàndelthylt.
“Is there a problem, young Kàndelthylt?” asked Dadaelus, raising a brow. “Does the blood of ponies and the bounty of Canterlot’s treasuries tempt you so?”
The dark dragon came forward and spoke his mind, “A full week’s flight from the breeding lands, plus an additional two days of silent encampment with naught but the promise of pony flesh and an equal share of Canterlot’s treasures to whet our appetites and yet this little one’s release is our only reward for our loyalty?”
“You speak out of place, Kàndelthylt!” The old Nestoramnen seethed, stepping forward.
“Stay your anger, young one,” Dadaelus hissed, “the deed is done and our alliance is finished when I lead you back to the breeding lands.
“So it is nothing more than a waste of our time? Of our brothers and sisters who followed you here, to these lands for the chance to increase their hoards, and for what? For this runt of a hatchling, raised by the very flesh we feed upon?” The female dragon did not enjoy that last comment uttered by Kàndelthylt. Her green eyes narrowed and her fangs were bared. Spike, too, seemed more offended than afraid by the dragon’s claims.
“Choose your next words carefully, youth.” The smooth and icy voice of the female dragon spoke softly, “they may not preserve your long years.”
“Shall I chastise him, Lady Nathalida?” the elder dragon offered, earning a sneer from the black-scaled youth.
“Silence, old dimscale!” Kàndelthylt spat. “Nothing by the loyal hound, playing the fool to our so-called Lord and now, his royal brat.” Kàndelthylt loomed over Spike and Applejack saw the fear in his eyes. She could not resist any further as she prepared to launch herself from the thicket and make tracks toward Spike. It was then that the dragons halted in the argument and turned to face her hiding place.
“Ah, horse feathers.” Applejack gulped audibly as the black-scaled dragon reached a claw out to her. With a crash, the large hand had broken the thicket and pinned the farm pony to the ground. The scaled fingers wrapped tightly around her chest, making her breathing a difficult task. At once, she was pulled up and carried over near the fire, her hooves dangling helplessly. Eyes of many hues focused upon her then, including a smaller, emerald pair whom she recognized.
“Applejack?” wondered Spike aloud. He was unable to comprehend her presence, though overcome with joy at having seen her. Then he saw the claw that she was now trapped within and dread overtook him.
“That’s right, darlin,’” breathed Applejack, trying to grin against the pain of the black claw, tightly squeezing. “Looks like they got me before I could get to ya.”
“But what’s this,” cooed Kàndelthylt, “a pony spy in our midst?” He brought the draft pony toward his nostrils and inhaled deeply. “The mud was a prudent plan to fool our noses, spy. Unfortunately, your hoofsteps could not be so easily filtered.”
“Spy nothin’,” breathed Applejack, “I’m here to see Spike.”
“Spike?” Kàndelthylt glanced at the little dragon, standing dumbfounded upon his mother’s open palm. “Is that the name you gave your pet? How poorly dignifying, even for an unfit runt like he.”
“Don’t hurt her!” Spike shouted at the top of his lungs. Kàndelthylt chanced a glance toward Spike, who had hopped down from his mother’s palm and ran toward the black-scaled dragon. “If you’re going to mess with anyone, mess with me and not my girl!”
Kàndelthylt, and every other dragon around them were taken aback. Kàndelthylt glanced between the orange mare and the purple dragon. “Now this is perverse,” seethed the darker youth. “A pony and a dragon, pitiful as he may be, together?”
“It’s… more… likely… than you think, sugarcube,” Applejack’s breaths were becoming ragged under Kàndelthylt’s grip. “Whether ya’ll like it or not.”
“Put her down,” demanded Spike, “and we will all leave in peace.”
“I will show you peace, runt!” Kàndelthylt frowned deeply as he tossed Applejack into the air, his sharp teeth parting. Applejack reached the crest of her rise and caught a final glimpse of Canterlot a fair distance away. Beyond its luminous grace and powerful towers, was Ponyville, nestled away in the valley beyond the mountain’s feet. She smiled in that moment, remembering her friends before she began to fall. Ponyville, Canterlot, and eventually the purple mountains themselves began to become obscured by the treetops of the forest.
She fell, fell, fell down, into the waiting jaws of the vile dragon that had tossed her. She was unsure of how to feel, only that she was happy to see Spike again. She found herself longing to hold him once more. Sadness crept over the farm pony as she realized that she would truly never have that chance again.
She resolved to give this dark dragon’s insides a good bucking all the way down. He would rue the night he messed with this filly!
“NO!” Spike bellowed as he ran toward the dark dragon. With a single leap, he landed upon the idle free claw nearest the ground. From there, another leap saw him atop the dark dragon’s crest adorning the side of his head. With a third and final leap, Spike leapt toward the falling Applejack. Before he could reach her, he found himself suddenly shrouded in darkness, deeper than the night. He could not recall for how long or specifically when, but he felt his consciousness fade. The last thing he remembered was seeing the same darkness engulf Applejack. He could no longer breathe, so he sighed with a sudden exhaustion that threatened to overtake him.
If this was death, at least he wasn’t alone. At least he had gotten to see her one last time.
He closed his eyes.
Chapter 4: Mine
//-----------------------------
“Release his throat, Nalthanida,” Lord Dadaelus seethed as he glanced toward his aged advisor. The blue dragoness glared at her husband and unlocked her jaw which had been fastened mercilessly around the young black dragon’s larynx. With a gasp, Kàndelthylt fell to the ground with his life intact, focus returning to his blue eyes. Lady Nalthanida snorted and a cloud of ashen smoke blew from her nostrils into the face of her victim. She returned to her mate’s side, her green eyes set upon Kàndelthylt. The deep punctures amid his scales would forever remind the young dragon, and others standing quietly about him, the price to be paid for insolence.
Dadaelus dismissively exchanged glances with his lady wife and returned his focus upon the aged Nestoramnen and said, “Please tell my wife what you have told me, old friend.”
Nestoramnen obliged and said, “Arrogant as he may be, Kàndelthylt is innocent of the crime of consuming the Royumborn.”
“How so?” Nalthanida broke her dangerous stare of the recovering Kàndelthylt and offered the advisor a quizzical glance.
“I smell deception in the air, Royum. Deception and an elder scent I have not perceived in nigh one thousand years: Equestrian royalty.”
“Pony royalty? The god-princesses and their foul magics?” Nalthanida bared her blood-covered fangs as she rose to full height upon her hind legs and looked in the direction of distant Canterlot. “Are you sure, Nestoramnen?” she asked quietly. “For all your wisdom, this tests you, for we dragons cannot go to war lightly.”
“Of this claim, I am certain, Royum,” the elder dragon spoke clearly, confidently.
“The–ponies–have–violated–the–agreement!” Kàndelthylt coughed and sputtered as he rose to his feet. “We must prepare for battle!” he roared triumphantly.
“Then it is settled,” Dadaelus softly spoke, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. “The ponies have reclaimed our son for their own means, the treaty now lays in tatters and we cannot return home without a bloodprice paid." He looked to his army, “I did not wish for it to come to this.” He then looked upon his trusted advisor, “Ready the legion, we attack the citadel at daybreak.” The dragons that were within earshot heard this command and gave howls of joy, for their long flight and time spent would be justly rewarded by the bounty of Canterlot’s treasury to claim as their own. As Nestoramnen proceeded to carry his orders out, Kàndelthylt could not help but bear the pain it caused him to grin, for daybreak was mere hours away.
Voices. Slowly and incoherently at first, they teased his ears. He could not discern the detail those voices carried, but he could tell that there were two of them, both carrying female inflections. Of what they spoke, he hoped, would become clear in the retreating darkness. Suddenly, Spike awoke with a start, as if from a century’s deep slumber. He no longer felt the wind against his face, nor did he feel the darkness engulf him. Instead, he was warm and what greeted his awakening eyes was a bright eminence. As his vision slid into focus, a sea of golden sunshine met his eyes upon the gently rising and falling orange frame of a familiar sight. Applejack lay next to him, gently breathing, a calm expression upon her visage. He groaned and reached out to her, longing to run his palm across her cheek. As his arm stretched out to her, his vision widened to encompass the surface upon which they both lay. A polished hard white marble reflected the light above. He knew that surface and the emerging aristocratic patterns that they formed. His vision wandered. He observed tall columns and warm colours that accompanied walls of stained glass windows.
He was in Canterlot, or the afterlife included familiar halls and Applejack, which was very, in his humble opinion, awesome.
This euphoria was slain by the increasing volume of the voices. As his senses returned to him, Spike could tell that their possessors appeared to be in argument.
“Thou wilst forgive me, Dear Sister.”
“You know that I already have, but you must consider the consequences of your actions!”
“Was I then to do nothing and watch as one of mine ponies and thine faithful student’s precious friend be devoured by feral dracos?”
“You know, Luna, that I commend your effort to save them, but to spirit them both back to the Citadel was no more than an act of war in their eyes.”
The younger voice, that of Princess Luna, became silent then. This exchange had confirmed two things for Spike: He had survived and he was, apparently, in Canterlot once more. Of the former, he was relieved. Of the latter, Princess Celestia’s truth made it difficult to consume. A groan caught not only his attention, but that of the goddesses as well.
As Applejack opened her eyes to the world, they caught those of Spike, now fully alert and focused entirely on her. “Spike?” she yawned, “You’re safe!” She reached out to him, sleepily just has he had done for her. She found his palm upon her cheek and she retracted her hoof to meet his hand. Spike merely nodded and grinned sheepishly. She returned the gesture and asked, “Where are we?”
“Applejack. Spike. Welcome back to Canterlot.” Celestia lowered her head so that her subjects could gaze upon her regal glow.
“Beggin’ your pardon, Princess,” began Applejack, raising her head, “but what in Equestria happened? Last I recall, I was about to become some cranky dragon’s dinner, then all I seem to remember is Spike and… darkness.” She shivered.
“You have my sister to thank for your continued existence, Applejack. Her magic is potent, though it could not fool the dragons entirely. They will track not only her, but you and their prince back here before sunrise tomorrow.”
“That big, nasty black dragon and my dad’s army are coming here?” Spike asked, suddenly on his feet, his heart dropping into unknown depths of terror.
“Tis my grievous ill to bear, Spike. We did not intend to ignite the fires of war. Ergo, we must return thee post-haste. I will answer for my actions.”
“That will not be necessary, dear sister.” Celestia quietly regarded her charge then, once a tiny reptile, so frail and alone amid the ponies surrounding him. Her violet eyes rested upon his, strong and dutiful. She knew, deep down, that Spike would gladly leave all of this behind, even a second time, if it meant the safety of others. Unlike any other dragon, he would forsake his treasures. Since the day Celestia had taken the youngling dragon under her regal wing, the Regent of the Sun remarked upon Spike’s courageous heart and kindly spirit. Her heart fractured evermore when faced with the possibility that she would never see her little dragon again. A mother’s instinct, some would rationalize. And they would be correct. Not even Twilight Sparkle, her faithful student and friend could fathom the depths of sorrow the princess felt, how it pained her to even consider the ultimatum cast by the Dragonlord and what it meant to her. She knew Twilight would not understand, given her own heart being bound to the young purple dragon and for that, Celestia found no difficulty in forgiving the Element of Magic for the resentment against her. However, above all, Celestia feared what the next moments brought to bear, what Spike’s very presence in the Citadel represented. She languished in the horror of what a thousand dragons could do to all of her ponies. Even now, none could see the panic that threatened to rise within her. Even now, Spike waited quietly, obediently, as if her opinion mattered personally to him despite the looming crisis.
She did not wish to send him away, especially since she saw his palm stroking the smiling visage of the Element of Honesty. It was then that Celestia had known truly how much her little dragon had grown. He had learned volumes of what vastness of knowledge she had to offer, he had honed his magiks and his skills.
He had fallen in love. He was grown up and she was forcing him to leave it all behind. Celestia wished she could simply shake her head; allow her guilt to drift, be carried away by the mysterious wind that ran through her billowing auroral mane. Alas, her wish would forever remain silently stored away, tempered only by time itself.
She had made her decision.
“We beg thine pardon, sister?” Luna took a cautionary step forward, her dark brows knitted together, worry painted her deep blue eyes.
“We will not return Spike to face the hardships of his kin. By right, I should not have taken him, but by right, he is my child to claim if my actions truly had spared him a miserable fate. I will face Dadaelus and I will protect my charge.”
Luna’s expression became unreadable then. That was before a smirk curled upon her dark lips. “Then We shall stand with thee, Sister.” Celestia nodded in approval.
“Wait, Princess!” Spike ran to his surrogate mother and pleaded, “I don’t want anyone to be hurt on because of me, not even the dragons, scary as they are!”
Celestia lowered her head and nuzzled her child affectionately, saying, “It is not my place to hurt others, Spike. You should know that.” She rose once again, her eyes never leaving him.
“But,” Spike protested and soon found an orange limb around his shoulders, holding him close to a warm golden-maned frame. Applejack silenced him with a nuzzling of her own.
“You, Spike, are the kindest most gentle and generous dragon Equestria has ever known,” Celestia said with a smile. “Quite the opposite of your kin’s more universal traits.” Spike cocked his head in confusion.
“This,” continued Celestia, “is what I now plan to use to our advantage when the time comes.”
In the distance, a great horn blew, its heavy note reverberating from the very top of the tallest tower of the Citadel down into the tree-ringed valleys below. That horn was old and scarcely used, but every pony in the great mountain city understood its meaning. Thousands of wide eyes gazed upon the tower that housed the horn and despaired.
Celestia bowed her head as her royal guards rushed to her side. The elder of the pair was notably large, intimidating and without any readable expression. “My Princess,” stated the senior guardspony, “the Forewarning has sounded, we must get you to safety!”
“Clegmane,” the princess spoke softly and the nearest unicorn guard stiffened,
“Majesty,” Clegmane then stepped forward.
Celestia swept a hoof over Applejack, “Before you is the Element of Honesty, an avatar of Harmony.” Applejack rose to her full height and tilted her hat toward the senior guard, concern never leaving her emerald eyes.
“And this,” The Sun Regent turned to Spike and continued, gathering Celgmane’s attention once more, “is my son.” She smiled at her young dragon warmly. “You will see them both safely to our emergency chambers and see to it that the castle is safely evacuated.”
Clegmane’s eyes widened with alarm, “But, the guard must defend its Princesses, as is our sacred trust!”
“We stand by Our Sister’s order. The caverns will provide safety to all who wish for it. Even dragons cannot reach them in there.” Luna’s lips remained curled into that wry smirk and Clegmane backed down in defeat.
“Yes, my princesses. Consider the evacuation under way.” Resolve resurfacing, the large unicorn turned to face Spike and Applejack, “My lord and lady, please follow me.” All desperation was vanquished from his voice, only to be replaced by cool assertion.
Spike hesitated as Clegmane led the way. He glanced back at Celestia and Luna, asking, “What are going to do?”
Celestia’s warmth did not fade as she closed her eyes as if to visualize her plan, “I am going to give them what they truly came for.”
At that, Princess Celestia unfurled her great wings. Luna did the same and both sisters lunged skyward through the breezy open windows, toward the approaching aerodrome of dragons.
Twilight gazed out the window of her old study. From that vantage point within the tower, she could oversee the lay of the Citadel and her mighty walls. Beyond them stretched the valleys, hills and forests at the foot of the great purple mountain range. Beyond even those, she espied the tiny thatched roofs and stone chimneys of distant Ponyville. She noticed the little cotton-ball puffs of smoke that exuded from the chimneys, following no specific pattern at all. The morning had arrived and she had not returned to that little town. As she watched the royal dragons carry her little brother away, she could not bear to be next to Celestia, not out of spite, but out of the need to be alone.
She had never truly been alone before, as her scaly kindly friend had been present throughout most of her young life. Now, the void was immeasurable. She left her teacher's side and, much to her own surprise, did not follow the paths and halls that struck through the primary atria toward where her transport awaited. Rather, she had taken a detour, aimlessly wandering the familiar halls until she had found herself at the foot of the spiral stairs that lead to her old chambers.
The room had been kept proper, clean, orderly, very Twilight Sparkle. Many of the original items that once lay strewn about were no longer present, having found a comfortable new home in a hollow tree many fathoms away. The library shelves had remained untouched, their volumes having been already stocked in Ponyville. Still, as Twilight turned her gaze away from the window she levitated a humble faux leather-bound tome from its resting place and studied the cover, taking very little interest in it. 'General Gerribald’s General Instructions on Dreams' was the title. She rolled her eyes and thought nothing more of the book, setting it in its place. Dreams , she thought, why bother ?
As she looked away from the tall, heavily laden shelves, Twilight caught a glimpse of her old writing desk and something prompted her to pull open all of its drawers. As she checked them, she found naught but vacant space, save the deepest drawer on the left. From that she pulled out an item that she had not seen for a few months, despite the feeling of years since she had last laid eyes upon it. It was a package, neatly wrapped, or at least formerly so. The meager box had been squashed, its ribbons unkempt and its glossy paper torn asunder. The box was still partially by a matching lid, which Twilight removed. Within the damaged box was a sorry sight: a stuffed bear torn at many seams, its soft stuffing exposed. Instantly, she recognized the wounded item as Spike’s intended gift for Moondancer’s birthday before the Summer Sun Celebration. Twilight recalled how, to her assistant’s dismay, that her eagerness to solve the mystery of the Elements of Harmony had inadvertently lead to the destruction of his gift. She remembered the downtrodden look on his face when he lifted the broken bear from its case. She had been so heartless then compared to now. Regret filled her chest when she parsed further into the memory, knowing that Spike had hoped to gain Moondancer’s attention with this simple plushy offering, though she removed that chance from him in her callousness. He made no secret of his crush on Moondancer up until the moment he met Rarity.
Twilight chuckled when she thought of their first encounter with the fashionista, wondering further, how Spike’s mandible could drop so low despite the restrictions of his musculoskeletal anatomy. Twilight shook her head, lest her thoughts be distracted and then utterly derailed. She thought of Applejack and how she had so effortlessly won her little brother’s heart. Something happened between them that defied the unicorn’s understanding of logical courtship proceedings. Then again, structured theory, she admitted, rarely held water when practiced in reality–much akin to her failed attempts at explaining the nature of Pinkie Pie: it could not be empirically studied, only accepted, believed. This did little to settle Twilight’s mind on whether either the beautiful farm pony or her scaled prince knew what they were doing. Pure reaction and little forethought never sat well with the studious mare that had previously known nothing but structure.
Then, something shook her train of thought completely free of its rails. It was a blaring and deeply foreboding sound that rattled her chest and pinned her ears. The Horn of Forewarning had been sounded for the first time that Twilight could remember, perhaps the first time in the lives of any pony now living. At once, she understood what she had to do, the same that that she and every young foal in Canterlot was always taught and trained to do if ever the Foreboding Horn was sounded. Of how the call would be instantly recognizable, even if it was never heard prior to its sounding and how the Royal Guard would guide them all to the safety of the nearby mountain passes. As she sprang from her former home and dashed down the spiral stairs, Twilight saw legions of golden-armoured white pegasi and dark unicorns guiding a calmly filing population of concerned ponies into the depths of the mountain. Toward the nearest guard, she trotted. He was young, but his deep blue eyes spoke of a discipline that Twilight could not fathom, stoic in her approach of him.
“Excuse me, guard!” she called out as she neared him.
He glanced in her direction, “Miss Sparkle?” He bowed his head respectively upon seeing the her address him.
She acknowledged the greeting and offered a thankful smile. “Can you please tell me what's going on?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have that information, Miss Sparkle,” he replied regretfully. “But if you reach the palace, Captain Clegmane of the Honour Guard has been placed in charge of evacuations.”
Captain Clegmane? Twilight wondered as she tilted her head and asked, “And what of the princesses? Any word from them?”
“My apologies, Miss Sparkle,” the young guard answered. “Final orders from Clegmane stated that our rulers have taken wing to confront the issue first-hoof, which is why, I am guessing, he was placed in charge.”
“Thank you, guardstallion.” Twilight glanced in the direction of the palace before returning a soft gaze toward the helpful soldier, “May I ask for your name?”
The guard pony beamed and said, “Gen D’arme, miss.”
“Well met, Gen D’arme and good luck!” Twilight bade the helpful pony farewell before departing toward the palace.
“The same to you, Miss Sparkle!” Gen D’arme’s voice called after her but soon became lost in the din of the crowd.
Spike tried his best to keep up with the evacuees; something his bipedal nature did not provide an advantage for when compared with the efficiency of his four-legged compatriots. His complaints were short-lived, however when a quick bite to the larger of his cranial spines halted his advance entirely and a sudden powerful force swung his body free from the ground as he was tossed into the air. Disoriented, he landed upon a soft, yet firm surface that contracted and relaxed with strong muscles beneath it. He looked up and saw the hallway retreating before him and a golden-locked tail flicking carelessly in front of his eyes. He ran a claw across the surface he landed on and saw that it was orange and offered the scent of apples to tease his senses. It was then that he realized that Applejack had deftly lifted him and tossed him safely upon her back.
The pony quietly giggled as Spike ran his claw across her back, for they tickled something awful. She turned her head to see him and winked, “Hang on, there, loverboy!” At that, the farm pony galloped on to meet the next checkpoint as her rider spun himself around to face the proper direction. As he straddled the mare, Spike could not help but realize a pair of undeniable concepts: one, he was on Applejack’s back and enjoying himself almost too much, despite the chaos that threatened to consume them. Two, he did not feel right about simply leaving the princesses to deal with his kin. They were his family, after all and he needed to confront them as he was. Unfortunately, he simply did not know how to go about doing so.
Then something up ahead caught his attention. “Applejack, woah!” the young dragon bellowed.
Applejack did, in fact, halt, but turned her head to eye him with irritation. “I resent that remark,” she deadpanned.
Spike blushed in embarrassment, chuckling as he said, “Sorry about that, AJ.” The farm pony relaxed and nuzzled him, but before she could ask him what was on his mind, she felt a hoof on her shoulder. She turned to face whoever it was and saw that it was a tall grey unicorn stallion, the very one who was assigned by Clegmane to escort them toward the safety of the mountain pass in order to join the greater herd of evacuees.
“My apologies, Miss Applejack, Master Spike, but we must keep moving.”
Spike protested, shaking his head, “I’m afraid we can’t, Mister Logos. We need to go back and fix this mess once and for all.”
Lieutenant Logos would not budge, “And I am afraid that I cannot allow that–strict orders from the captain.”
“Please,” Spike clasped his claws together, “I just need to speak with them, give them something to bargain over, even if it’s me.”
Logos was about to dismiss the plea when Applejack brought her strong hoof down and stomped the brickwork pathway. Firmly, she eyed the Lieutenant and evenly said, “I’m the Element of Honesty and I can speak no lies when I say that I believe in my dragon here. He has a plan and I’m fully invested into seein’ it through, orders or not.”
Logos seemed genuinely flustered and replied, saying, “My orders are—”
“To safeguard the lives of the Princesses and their subjects. We know, Logos.” Applejack smiled gently. “But my friends and I have a similar role to play in dire times as these. Just as you have a job to do, so do we.” Logos had no reply and Applejack turned around, walking away. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t plum sure about trustin’ those closest to me.” She turned her smile to the dragon and his face flushed in response.
The lieutenant did not say anything then. He simply nodded and motioned for them to go. Applejack nodded her head and turned to go back the way they came. As she did so, Spike called back, saying, “Thank you, Logos! I won’t forget this!”
Logos sighed, waving in response to the dragon’s compliment. Neither will Clegmane. Princesses forgive me. He then returned his attention to the fleeing population of ponies, guiding them into the mountains.
“So, what’s the plan, hon?” Applejack asked as she galloped at a swift pace through the deserted halls.
“I’m not so sure, actually,” shrugged Spike. He pictured the regal pony sisters, dwarfed in size by his parents and the span of their great leathery wings.
Wings. Spike looked around to his own bareback and huffed, “I wish I had wings.”
Applejack frowned, searching for something to respond with until morning light caught her eye directly ahead of them. From the open expanse of the large balcony, she recognized the familiar golden sight of the large royal chariot being hauled indoors by a pair of pristine-coated pegasi guards. That’s it! Applejack reared in triumph, nearly throwing her dragon free from her back.
As he scrambled to regain his seat, Spike peeked over his mare’s Stetson to see what she perceived. The same grin she bore infectiously found its way onto his face, “I love the way you think, AJ!” He gently kissed behind her ear, causing it to wildly flicker against his nose. She flushed beneath him and he chuckled at the response he had elicited. Something told him to remember that. As if spurred, Applejack shot forward like a discharged projectile. This time, her charge remembered to hold on tight.
“Are you sure you know how to fly this thing, Pinkie?” Rarity shuffled her hooves nervously as the enormous air balloon began to inflate with heated air. Before long, the chamber was fully engorged and the passenger basket lifted from the ground, tethered only by a thick twine rope that was staked to the ground.
“Technically,” replied the pink party pony, “no.” She smiled. “But that’s part of the fun!”
“Fun!” Rarity spat, “Pinkie, we are trying to save Applejack and Spiky-Wikey, not joyride in the skies!” A spectral blur of rainbow and sky materialized beside the fashionista.
Rainbow Dash could not contain herself and said, “Well, if you were in such a hurry, you could have inflated this thing a lot faster. Just had to look up and keep talking.”
Rarity frowned and said nothing, refusing to stoop down to her pegasus friend’s level. It was simply unladylike. Still, Dash’s cacophony of laughter served only to grate on her patience. Even when Pinkie Pie inevitably joined the laughter, Rarity’s composure held steadfast. It was only when Fluttershy — timid, sweet, dear Fluttershy — began to curl her lips from behind her veil of pink mane that the alabaster white pony’s resolve faltered. With steam shooting from her pinned ears, Rarity levitated two nearby lengths of rope. And with expert speed and precision, she fastened the giggling pair of pegasi to the rim of the basket.
With a huff, she said, “In that case, since you are so ingenious, Rainbow Dash, perhaps you and Flutter-wry over there can serve as our propulsion while Pinkie and I formulate a plan to rescue our friends!”
With a little giggle, Pinkie Pie said, “Spiky-Wikey,” clearly amused that she was not the only pony to refer to the charming young dragon like that.
Rarity’s cheeks would have betrayed her feelings, had she not been pre-occupied with fastening the final knots. With a snort, the rainbow tomboy took the lead next to her silent cream-coloured friend, their wings flared and ready for lift off. Satisfied, Rarity gingerly plucked the peg from its place, effectively freeing the balloon. Powered by the pegasi, the adorable mode of transport rose above the treeline, above the clouds and towards the Citadel.
Rarity could not help but squeeze her eyes shut at the passing winds that stung her eyes and, more importantly, tousled her coiffure. She shook her head and ran over whatever plans she could assemble into what she hoped could be a rescue. The most she could come up with was her intended result: having all of her friends together, safe and happy.
We’re coming for you, Twilight, Applejack… and Spiky-Wikey. Applejack and Spike. The quickly shifting atmospheric pressure began to squeeze tears free. Yes, that was it: atmospheric pressure.
Twilight Sparkle had little trouble entering the palace and even less trouble finding the throne room. Where her difficulties began was what awaited her there within. The Princesses were nowhere to be seen. The Twin Thrones sat idly beside one another, empty. Instead, at the room's epicenter fluttered a small group of brightly armoured pegasi, just above their darkly armoured unicorn counterparts. Their rapt attention was centered on one rather large and seasoned unicorn that Twilight instantly recognized.
She remembered Clegmane from when she was a filly. He had been a handsome recruit, freshly pressed into the Unicorn detachment of the Royal Honour Guard. The stallion was a decade her senior, but she still remembered how he became the fixation of a small, insignificant fillyhood crush. Celestia may have noticed this, since Clegmane had always been among the prestigious few selected for the personal escort platoon that constantly flanked the Princess. In other words, Twilight got to see him all the time, which meant that she could plague him with endless questions about routine, scheduling, training, magic, useful spells he had employed; common spells, recreational spells, armour maintenance, bravery, et cetera. She recalled how quickly she had learned not to bother him when in the public eye, but by the time the sun had set and the royal court was adjourned, Clegmane was relatively free for questioning. Nearly all the questions she posed, he answered as best he could, curt and to the point. He was a pragmatic, but superbly intelligent stallion, which was among the many reasons she nearly subtly pursued him as she grew and matured. However, her love for studies far outweighed her irrational feelings for the decorated guardspony.
The year that Spike was formally given to her, when she was capable of handling the charge, was the year that Clegmane had risen to the position of Captain. Suddenly, he ceased being a public commonality, instead directing the guard ponies from behind closed doors. Twilight only ever saw him when she emerged from her newly acquired study or when he emerged from his newly acquired office. His visible age and service had begun to take their toll on the stallion whenever she saw him; dashes of salty grey interrupted his dark mane. His amber eyes sat warily upon darkened lids. Still, his striking features only appeared to sharpen, causing a slight unconscious flutter whenever he crossed her path.
For years, Twilight ignored that fluttering, resolving that he never noticed, let alone cared for her attention.
Even now, as Canterlot rested on the knife's edge, she ignored the fluttering and approached Clegmane's council. Her desire for answers once again overthrew that lingering, irrational wish to have him look upon her, just once, with softened eyes. None of that mattered anymore.
Clegmane's attention shifted from his lieutenants toward Twilight who was quickly approaching him. At once, he swept a glance across his command staff and said, "You know what to do, gentlecolts. To your duties." The entourage came to attention and saluted their officer. "Dismissed," Clegmane declared as he returned the gesture.
As the guards departed the throne room, the Captain turned his focus wholly on the Princess's protégé.
"Twilight Sparkle, how very nice to see you once more."
"Likewise, Captain," was Twilight's reply.
"I assume you are seeking council with our Princesses?"
"Yes," she answered, "may I ask where they are?"
Clegmane turned to the stained glass window that concealed the view of the Northern Mountains. With a flicker of magic from his horn, the old Captain cast a spell that seemed to gently lift the colours free from the window, allowing a clear view of the dragon horde taken wing. Clegmane needed to say no more. He gestured toward them and Twilight shrank before the imposing sight, her eyes widening at the hundreds of distant masses. Each distant silhouette represented a beast that towered over them all.
"Why are they there? I thought we brokered a truce?"
"The dragon appear to have reason to think that we violated that agreement." Clegmane stood next to Twilight.
"That means that they aim to burn Canterlot, prompting the Princesses to meet them. I have to do something!" Twilight shouted. Then, she felt the cold, yet reassuring iron-shod hoof of the armoured Captain rest upon her shoulder in a rare show of compassion. Her panic instantly subsided.
They shared a moment of silence, alone and undisturbed within the cavernous throne room, watching the dragon-flecked horizon. Suddenly, Clegmane asked, "For as long as I've known you, Miss Sparkle, you've been asking me questions that most fillies would not think of asking a guardspony such as myself."
Unsure, Twilight looked over at the Captain. His hoof lifted from her shoulder, his gaze transfixed upon the wilds beneath the rising sun. He continued, "For nearly as long, I have been in the service of Princess Celestia and, as of late, her sister.
"Yet, for all your questions and all the time I have spent with the Princesses, I have never questioned anything myself." Twilight opened her mouth to ask Clegmane where he was going with his sudden monologue, but he answered for her in kind. "Now, I feel that I must finally ask you a question, should you agree to hear it."
"Of course, Clegmane, ask me whatever you wish." Twilight did not lift her gaze off the elder pony.
He asked, "Do you think our Princesses have what it takes to stop this impending disaster?" The mare froze at the Captain's genuine query. Normally, her unwavering faith in Celestia would have prompted response in favour of the Princess’s diplomacy. Ever since yesterday morning, however, she no longer knew for sure.
"Yes, Clegmane, despite the dire circumstances, I do have faith."
He sighed, apparently relieved.
"I also have faith that Luna will play her vital role effectively, that the good nature of ponies and dragons can be reached, especially now. My faith cannot be squarely placed on Celestia alone, but in everyone, pony or otherwise."
For the first time in her young life and secret pursuits, Twilight actually witnessed a smile infiltrate the grizzled pony captain's visage, if only on a subtle level that the mare's years of observation alone provided insight. Clegmane smiled and it was because of her.
"You know something, Miss Sparkle?" Clegmane kept his amber eyes upon the window. They seemed to glisten in the dawn light and that captivated Twilight just as effectively as it had done years before.
"Yes?" Was her reply.
"In a way, you remind me of my wife, bless her soul." Clegmane lowered his head slightly, breaking his concentration on the black-spotted horizon. Twilight felt her heart clench at the mention of the Captain's beloved, a fact she willfully ignored before.
"Her birthday was three weeks ago, yet she had just barely seen your current age when the Summerlands called to her."
"I'm sorry, Clegmane… you must have loved her dearly, and I feel awful that my presence brings you such pain." She sadly lowered her head and turned to leave.
"There is nothing to forgive, Twilight." He had never used her name with such an informal tone before. It caused her to stop mid-step and turn to him.
"Are you sure?" she asked, once again uncertain.
He did not answer her, but instead said, "She was an earth pony. Her name was Vidalia and she loved growing onions." He smiled at the memory, which caused Twilight to smile in return. She admitted that she was enjoying this unexpected side of Clegmane.
The young unicorn listened as he spoke on, "Was never a fan of onions myself, but she changed that with her Fancy Onion soup. Been eating them religiously ever since." They shared a light chuckle. "She was smart, though," Clegmane quickly added, "sharp as a tack, but compassionate and wanting to believe in the best for all things. This is what I feel that she gave to her work: belief in the capacity for good. Combine that with an earth pony's uncanny ability to grow, well, anything, and you have some really good onions that even a sourpuss like me will enjoy."
Clegmane and Twilight shared another good laugh before they settled into comfortable silence once again. He then spoke once more, "I've always been respectful to Earth ponies because of Vidalia." Twilight nodded absently as he continued, "There is strength and magic with them that cannot be comprehended." Twilight agreed wholeheartedly, thinking of her friends back in Ponyville, waiting anxiously on her return.
"I especially felt it when your fellow Element showed up in the arms of your former assistant, Spike. All thanks to Princess Luna's efforts, mind you."
It took a moment for Twilight to catch on to what the Captain had just told her: Earth pony, fellow Element of Harmony, in the arms of Spike. She spastically shook her head, her mane becoming disheveled, her eyes widening.
"What!" was all she could muster. Clegmane raised a brow.
"You didn't know? Surely the Princess would have informed her prized –"
"Spike is back? With Applejack? How?"
Clegmane took a cautionary step back and answered evenly, "Princess Luna appeared with them. It appears they had nearly escaped some trauma because Luna said she had barely enough time to intervene."
Twilight could not understand. Spike's presence here could only explain why the dragons were here, why the Forewarning was sounded, why the city was being evacuated, why both Princesses took wing against the oncoming horde of angry dragons.
"Where are they now?"
Clegmane pointed to the main hallway, "I was ordered to keep them safe while I also being given command of the evacuation. I sent them with one of my best officers, Lieutenant Logos, down the main hall toward the Princesses' emergency chambers."
Before Twilight could take off in the direction of those chambers, Clegmane called to her, "Wait, Twilight, look out there!"
Then she saw it: the royal chariot, pulled by a pair of armoured pegasi and ridden by ponies obscured by the chariot's height as it raced toward the smoky horizon. Twilight ushered a magnification spell that enhanced her vision to see the mysterious riders. She saw a familiar Stetson poking out from in front of the high-backed seat, all the while blonde tail locks, barely contained by a red bow at the tail's tip fluttered in the passing breeze.
"I didn't authorize any take-offs…" Clegmane was back in his position as Captain and was about to call for a messenger when Twilight gasped, "Applejack's on the chariot!"
Though she could not see him, she knew Spike would not allow himself to be separated from her. She knew her dragon, her little brother and oldest friend and she knew what his aim was. She also knew that Applejack would not leave his side, even through dragonfire. No pegasus could hope to catch up to them and the one who could was many leagues away in Ponyville. No amount of magic that Twilight possessed could hope to be effective at such a great range. All, save one.
It was risky, but she took a cautionary step back and focused on the ever-shrinking speck that was the royal chariot.
"Stand back and cover your eyes, Clegmane. This could get a little bright." The unicorn stallion could not respond, for the unicorn had disappeared in a brilliant flash.
Teleportation . Hm . Clegmane stared bemusedly at the space where Twilight Sparkle had once stood. He looked over toward where he thought the chariot to be, but its distance was too great to perceive with any success. Among the many trying things on his mind, the Captain sighed and seriously reconsidered his position on Lieutenant Logos, considering that both of his charges were now doing the direct opposite of what the Lieutenant was ordered to see them do. Alas, that judgment would have to wait, seeing as there was a city to evacuate.
As he turned to leave, Clegmane glanced over his broad shoulder and spoke softly, "Good luck, young ones. I believe in you and your Elements. Farewell, Miss Sparkle."
Celestia recalled the days when she and her sister flew side by side. It was a gentler time, when the beating of their wings signified an amicable race from one end of the continent to the other. Such was the last time she and Luna had ever paced themselves so intensely.
Then came the resent, the darkness, the Nightmare and one thousand years of utter loneliness. Now, Luna had returned in all of her former regal glory and their wings defied the ground once more, together; only this time the urgency existed not in jest, but in desperation. Before the royal pony sisters was a most imposing sight never before seen in Equestria: a throng of dragons, an army one thousand-strong, headed for Canterlot. They came as per the dire agreement between Celestia and their Lord Dadaelus, who headed the army. The fierce crimson reptile guided his followers toward the mountain-based Citadel and Celestia could see the smoke billowing from his nostrils. Anger surged within his golden eyes, though they could not compare to what Celestia could see in the dark jade eyes of Lady Nalthanida. There was menace within the elegant blue dragon that denoted the ferocity of a mother scorned of her child. Celestia knew the feeling. As they neared the winged horde, the eldest sister was taken aback as Dadaelus halted, mid-beat and bellowed aloud. The sound swept across the land, petrifying it. Celestia and Luna halted in place, their wings sustaining their lofty heights. At once, the army of dragons held their positions, daring not to venture forward, lest their lord command otherwise.
Such loyalty he wields, Celestia wondered. We shall see what kind of loyalty they all bear. The Regent of the Sun and her lunar sister cautiously approached the line. Dadaelus and Nalthanida flew forward to meet them. Fire glowed in the dragons’ brilliant eyes and Celestia wondered if Luna felt the same intimidation. Fortunately, like her sister, the Princess of the Night refused to allow her expression to become readable. The dragons of Royum employed the resolve that marked their hard visages. They will not be easily swayed, the eldest sister concluded. The waiting lines of dragons remained ever in her periphery as Celestia motioned Luna to join her in meeting her son’s true parents.
When the emissaries were met, they met in silence. Celestia made note of Dadaelus and the powerful musculature that rippled beneath his crimson scales. The hidden sinew relaxed and contracted with angered fervor. Of Nalthanida, her strong jaw was set, shut and containing her vicious fangs. Her slender, formidable frame, relaxed, as it was, seemed coiled and prepared to strike. The Princess ignored the dragoness’s deportment and focused instead in the lord, who opened his mouth as if to speak. Silently, Celestia prepared against any fire set to spew forth from the beast’s breath. A simple spell, magnified tenfold in five, she conjured lest her caution be justified. The barrier would encompass both Luna and herself, though the she trusted that the sister of silver night shared in her caution.
Regardless, she smiled when Dadaelus unleashed not flame, but words wreathed within them. Steam nonetheless rose from his nostrils as he spoke, “I was incorrect in my speculation, Celestia.” Such a greeting would have been dismissed in lesser diplomatic arenas, but the princess did not stir.
“May I ask, old friend, what your speculation encompassed?” Celestia softly responded.
“Old friend?” Dadaelus scoffed, “Now I see that my speculation was wholly inaccurate!”
“It is unlike a dragon to admit his shortcomings,” Luna conjectured.
Dadaelus passively dismissed the Night Princess, remaining focused on that of the Sun, “One thousand years has not settled your sister’s rebellious tongue, Celestia, though I admit it is also surprising to see her present, materialized, and facing the victims of her theft.”
Luna held her tongue long enough for Celestia to speak, “My sister intended to compliment the Dragonlord, for it takes great integrity, from either dragons of ponies, to even admit the smallest of errors; in your case, Royum Dadaelus, the incorrect speculation of our cowardice.”
Dadaelus said nothing, though the steam that rose lessened in its profusion, ever slightly.
Celestia continued. “As for my reference to our friendship, I do not lie when I speak of it, strained as it may currently be. You have my friendship, so long as you wish it, Royum.” She gestured to both Lord and Lady. Nalthanida did not shift, though the princess could see her barely visible struggle to retain silence. Mothers often struggle with such things when their young are involved.
To her offer of friendship, Dadaelus merely scoffed, black smoke belching forth to blemish the paling sky. “Friends and allies need not steal children, Princess. Nor are they easily inclined to betray both trust and agreement.”
“I understand that you feel betrayed,” Celestia, for a brief moment, appeared despondent over that truth, but it was swift in its passing. “However, I pray that you do not use your army to enforce the consequences of that unfortunate misunderstanding.”
“My army,” breathed Dadaelus, “is here to claim what was promised to them, penance for the theft of their prince!”
“And how many of them,” Celestia calmly asked, “are willing to die today in order to stake their claims? Can we not come to an agreement? Pull your army back so we may understand one another.”
Dadaelus barred his fangs and Nalthanida hissed under her breath. “You and your banished sister are in no position to demand terms!” Celestia held her silent defense charm at the ready. “Surrender your city, lest you wish to suffer harm to your precious ponies,” the crimson dragon bellowed, is temper spent. “Your army cowers behind your Citadel’s enchanted walls and no escort follows you to your defense, save but one now approaching.”
Celestia knew it. She knew Spike would try something, anything to speak for himself and weigh his worth on the table. She smiled at how he had grown.
“Your son approaches,” she calmly informed the Royum.
“Is this some trickery, Celestia? Do I see my son drawing nigh?”
“Your keen eyes do not deceive you, old friend. There are no tricks, for your son does arrive of his own volition.” She closed her eyes, sensing harmony, “And he is not alone, for one accompanies him, one who cares deeply for him, and he for her.”
Dadaelus looked toward the approaching chariot, too far away for mere pony eyes to scrutinize, but simple for dragons to observe. He then looked to his mate, her eyes widening as her young offspring neared.
“Let us talk, Dadaelus and Nalthanida,” Celestia implored, glancing hopefully at her sister. “Hear the words of your son, not as my charge or your brood, but as an individual. If these are not the terms that we had previously agreed upon, please do not hesitate to elaborate.”
“This changes nothing, Celestia,” Dadaelus smoldered. “There is no turning back.” Lady Nalthanida glanced at her mate, her expression quizzical before returning it to the approaching chariot.
Celestia sighed, “Even now, you cannot lower your guard?”
Dadaelus said nothing, for he too began to focus on the chariot, eying it expectantly.
“You know that I cannot allow the surrender of this city. There are far too many innocent lives to be ruined in the name of the lost Royumborn.” Celestia’s voice rippled through the air.
Dadaelus quietly lifted his gaze back to the regal alicorn sisters, “It is not your place to command what my army may or may not claim, nor order where it may lay siege.”
“Then we tell you this now, Dadaelus,” Celestia’s voice darkened, “Speak with us and disband these dragons, or I shall break the back of your army here and now.”
Black smoke erupted from the Dragonlord’s mouth as he growled against the challenge that Celestia dared issue, “No amount of magiks, even from the immortals could hope to break my army. You shall see the cost of your insolent words, pony!”
Celestia’s horn shimmered then with a golden light. In an instant, it emitted a bright flash that caught nearly every eye in all of Equestria.
“See anythin’ sugar?” Applejack squinted toward the swiftly unfolding scene before them.
“They aren’t fighting… yet,” Spike responded, for he could see the meeting clearly: his father was at the vanguard of the siege. His mother flew by her mate’s side, her radiant blue scales reflecting the light of the rising sun. Opposite his true parents, Spike saw his adoptive parent, Celestia, visibly speaking to the crimson dragon. Princess Luna silently hung by her sister’s side.
“How close would you like us to get, Master Spike?” both pegasus guards glanced back toward their commander, unsettled expressions upon their white-coated faces.
A sudden gust overtook them with a great flash and the chariot became a score more crowded. A lavender coat and sparkly cutie mark now separated the dragon from his orange mare.
A familiar voice thundered in both of their ears, “Not. One. League. Further!”
“Twilight?” Spike jumped out of his scales and Applejack nearly lost her stetson to the wind, a quick hoof denying the hat its tumbling fate. The unicorn shot him a livid stare that could only Fluttershy could rival. Her disheveled mane blowing carelessly in the passing breeze only underscored the desperation in her purple eyes.
“Twi? What’re–” Applejack was interrupted as Twilight flashed her the exact same stampede-halting stare.
“We’re going back. Now!” she yelled toward the pegasi, who both sighed with relief.
“No!” Spike, countermanded, “I need to see my parents! I need to stop them from destroying Canterlot!” The pegasi considered this and hesitated in their turn.
“The Princesses can handle it, Spike,” countered Twilight. “You have to trust them.”
“Twi,” Applejack tried to get her friend’s attention and succeeded. “I know this seems crazier than wrestling a wily rattler, but I believe in Spike’s plan as much as I believe in the princesses’.”
“AJ, I don’t want to see you all get hurt… or worse! We need to turn back to Canterlot where we may actually be of use!”
Spike folded his arms and looked away, “Not this time, Twilight.” His adoptive sister dropped her head and was about to speak when Spike continued. “My place is there, trying to stop a terrible thing from happening. This is all because of me and I need to be a part of it, an active part, not just some prize to be fought over!”
“But,” Twilight protested.
“I will not allow Canterlot to burn because of me!” Spike’s eyes set forward and he regarded the pair of pegasi. “Keep going forward, I will not let anything happen to you.”
The pegasi offered a worried glance, but did not hold it amid the young dragon’s resolve. With frustrated breaths, and no command issued by the Element of Magic, the guards pressed on toward the meeting. It was then that a bright flash nearly blinded them all, sending the chariot nearly off-course. Before the disorientation could take any toll, however, the flash receded and the balance of fortune has shifted beneath them.
As quickly as it had appeared, the light vanished, leaving but little sparks to flicker and fade about Celestia’s inert horn, all glowing ceased. A mischievous grin formed upon her perfect visage. Before the dragon could respond, something stole his attention and not only that of his mate, but of all the one thousand-strong army of drakes that hung in the air around Canterlot. In the valleys beneath them, a new brilliance shimmered in the risen morning light as a beacon from below. Dadaelus’s jaw hung limp with rapture and confusion, for the sight before him could do naught but confound.
For, cast onto the valley below from the alabaster foundations of the Citadel’s high walls, appeared near endlessly procured mounds of golden, glimmering treasures. Troves upon troves of riches comprised of bits, gems, crowns and cases, all present and all bare. These all flowed as freely as a mountain stream from the very walls that once concealed such vast amounts. Before the moment ended, the valleys beneath the Citadel became a sea of overflowing with gold.
Celestia continued to speak then. Her voice was long, loud and heard all across Equestria,
“Dragons, welcome strangers from beyond our borders! Thou hast flown countless leagues for the promise of wealth to return to thine homes and hoards, all at the behest of thine Lord Dadaelus!”
One thousand scaled, fire-breathing heads listened, their tongues hanging with distracted fervor.
She continued, “We, the Princesses of Night and Day do offer you this gift for thine troubles and bid thee a safe return to thine homes across the sea! No more shouldst thou obey thine Lord, for his promise is fulfilled and thou art now free to retire!”
Dadaelus could have not suffered to look away, had a more damning sight not overtaken him: the dragons at his side, all one thousand strong of his mighty siege, fell from their loftily held positions, each diving headlong for the golden troughs offered to them. One valley of gold, one thousand dragons, one moment of ferocious and covetous gatherings with nervous ponies looking downward from above, in untested battlements.
As vultures to fresh carrion, the valleys were stripped of their new golden flesh. Not one bit or single gem was forgot, all carried away within the arms and maws of satiated dragons, once loyal. Against the morning light, one thousand dragons departed, decorating the horizon with their glinting charges.
Before long, one thousand dragons were reduced to a mere single pair. Dadaelus and Nalthanida silently glanced over the valley, now threadbare as if Celestia had cast no spell. For once in that morning of uncertainty, the crimson-scaled Dadaelus held no words to speak, nor any threats to utter. Nalthanida was the first to look away from the valley, to offer the alicorn sisters a most unusual glance. Sadness? Defeat? Indignation? Celestia herself could not tell. Then, something else caught her attention.
“Mom? Dad?”
Both adult dragons then turned to face a lonely chariot, flown by a pair of nervously quiet armoured pegasi. Within the seat of the luxurious chariot sat a pair of familiar sights, accompanied by one that was unfamiliar: Their son, the diminutive purple dragon, the lavender unicorn that was Celestia’s protégé, and a wide-eyed earthen pony with a rich orange coat. The headdress, they could not explain.
“Severezhad,” Nalthanida breathed and lowered her head, forgetting her anger upon seeing her son. Her great snout reached over the distressed pegasi and toward Spike, who placed his open palm upon it. The orange pony, the one that Nalthanida remembered her son referring to as Applejack, simply offered a nervous, but warm smile as she respectfully removed her strange hat.
What could only be described as a draconic smile only served to further distress the pale pegasi.
“Perhaps,” Luna suggested, interrupting the moment, “we should land and continue this renewed reunion upon solid ground.” The Princess of the Night winked reassurance to the pegasus pilots while the rest of the unusual entourage nodded in silent agreement.
“Hm, no burning cities or forests, nor do I see any refugees. What do you see, Pinkie?” Rarity asked.
“Dragons!” responded the pink party pony with glee.
Fluttershy visibly gulped, feeling very vulnerable and tenthered to a slow-moving balloon, “R-really? Um, how many?”
“I think a thousand dragons,” Pinkie Pie scrutinized the skies with her trusty bifocals.
“There’s no fire or smoke and Canterlot seems to be all hunk-dory!” Pinkie Pie chirped and the friends sighed in relief.
“Okay, so Canterlot is safe, but what am I looking at northward?” Rainbow Dash pointed in the direction of the great valley that met the mountain.
Pinkie Pie shifted her bifocals over to the general direction and searched for a long moment before gasping aloud, “I see the Princesses, both Celestia and Luna talking to a pair of large scary-looking dragons. They don’t look to happy.”
Fluttershy squeaked.
“And what’s that tiny distant object approaching them?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“That looks like Princess Celestia’s royal chariot, but I can’t see who’s in it.”
“Maybe they’re going to pick up the princesses?” Rarity pondered aloud.
“Maybe they’re bringing an emissary?” Fluttershy offered.
Pinkie beamed. “Maybe they’re delivering a great big chocolate cake to settle all their differences and then throw a huge, ‘No Hard Feelings About This Potential War Shenanigans’ party!”
Then, through her bifocals, the party pony espied a flash of light that emanated from the chariot and out of thin air, a familiar purple pony dropped right into it. “Or it could be Twilight trying to intercept a wild runaway chariot that could possibly be used in an act of subterfuge to undermine whatever shaky-flakey peace that the Princesses managed to broker with the dragons!”
The remaining Elements looked back at her, their eyebrows collectively raised. Pinkie did not take notice of their expressions because something else caught her eye when Twilight materialized: a purple-scaled head with bright emerald crests and a well-worn stetson being blown away, but caught by an orange-coated hoof. The pink pony’s already dilated eyes threatened the integrity of her irises by widening even further.
“It’s Spike and Applejack in that chariot!”
“What?!” Rarity collapsed, Rainbow Dash’s wings skipped a beat and Fluttershy’s jaw hung limp.
“Yep!” Pinkie Pie grinned, happy that she could see her friends.
Rarity recovered from her heart’s near failure and hip-checked Pinkie out of her way, grabbing hold of the bifocals as she did. With a deep gasp, the fashionista shouted to the tomboy and the sweetheart pegasi, “We need to cover this distance and get our friends out of that frying pan before it turns into a fire!”
“Aye-aye, Cap’n!” Rainbow Dash saluted and drove her wings into overdrive.
Fluttershy tried to keep up, but the ever-present danger that her friends were facing soon overcame the meekness of her flying skills. With added effort, the shy pegasus drove forward, keeping in pace with Rainbow Dash. Rarity and Pinkie held on for dear life as the balloon surged forward and tilted.
“Whee!” Pinkie Pie was having the time of her life.
As the balloon approached the meeting place, the entire entourage was then diverted ground ward, into a nearby clearing. Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash veered and followed with renewed vigour in their wings.
A bright flash suddenly took them all off guard, causing Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy to screech to a halt. Rarity shielded her eyes and Pinkie was blown backward, tumbling to the floor of the basket in a pink heap.
“What was that?” Rainbow Dash called out.
“I don’t know,” replied Rarity. “Pinkie, can you tell us?”
At once, Pinkie Pie bounced up and peeked through her lenses. With a loud gasp, she shouted, “They’re leaving! All with armfuls of treasure and flying away from the city!”
“Well, that’s go–wait, what did you say?” Rarity gasped.
“Leaving?” asked a perplexed Rainbow Dash, “why would they be leaving?”
Fluttershy chanced a question of her own. “And why with treasure? Did they manage to….” The cream-coloured pegasus whimpered at the shared and dreaded thought that collectively settled amongst the Elements.
“Nope!” Pinkie cheerfully answered. Canterlot is unharmed and there’s only two dragons left.
“Those must be Spike’s parents,” Rainbow asserted.
“There’re headed for the forest floor now, all of them,” Pinkie reported.
“Then they may still need our help!” Rarity explained. “Take us down there, girls!”
“Do-do we have to?”
The dragons rested upon the forest floor, brightly coloured and misplaced beings within the peaceful clearing. Before them, Celestia and Luna lay quietly, their ghostly manes tossing carelessly in a breeze unfelt. The chariot sat a distance away with the armoured pegasi talking quietly amongst their selves. Between the regal sisters and the mighty dragons sat a peculiar pair: a young purple dragon, a studious lavender unicorn mare and an orange earth mare wearing a strange hat. The dragons regarded them with curious, yet hardened eyes.
The crimson Dadaelus spoke first, shattering the serenity, “It appears that you, my son, have decided to return to us by your own will, according to Celestia.”
“Is this true, Severezhad?” Nalthanida finished her mate’s sentence; hope glimmering in her icy green eyes.
Where had this journey led him? Where had it lead them all? Spike’s turmoil rolled wildly within his fire-breathing chest. He offered such little resistance upon first meeting his parents, imposing and powerful as they were.
And then they invaded Canterlot, all for a misunderstanding? They thought him recaptured when in fact a pony had rescued his life, no less! What had his parents done? Spike looked on and met his mother’s eyes and the hope that lingered there.
Did they truly believe that their siege would win their Severezhad over?
Still, the look of his mother, his true mother, her wondrous blue hue, her richly shaded eye indicated that the surrounding events were not of her desire. For the first time in their brief knowledge of one another’s existence, Spike could see innocence in his very mother’s hopeful expression. For the first time in so many, many years, her only surviving dragonling had chosen to approach her.
Surviving. The word circled about the young dragon’s mind in a swirl of un-deniability. Even then, their accidental neglect had pushed him away from them, allowing Celestia to save and therefore raise him.
He wanted to be angry with his father’s callousness, to deny him what he had striven to accomplish. Canterlot was spared not due to his mercy, but to the false faith he held for his fellow dragons and their misplaced loyalty. Celestia had outwitted him and defeated an entire horde of covetous drakes by the power of her will alone.
If one thousand dragons can be routed by one regal alicorn, then what chance did his father have of obtaining his goal? He had failed and Spike could see the weight of that failure upon Dadaelus’ heavy brow.
Nalthanida, however, simply looked upon Spike and he gazed back. She did not carry the shattered pride of her mate, his father. She seemed all to content to see her son once more, in one piece, bravely seeking her out.
Suddenly, Spike’s resolve could not hold the boiling waters that he imagined it would. Earlier, Spike would have openly declared how unworthy they were to carry him back to the dragonlands! Such a display of power and ruthlessness did not warrant the reward his father and mother truly sought.
Truly sought. They did not dive for the offered gold as their brethren and sisters had. It did not hold the same value. Nalthanida, even then, could not remove her gaze from her son, her eyes locked covetously upon a treasure she had long thought lost. Spike did not overlook this detail. Lord Dadaelus himself did not appear as crestfallen when his army had betrayed him, abandoned him. The proud and mighty dragon did not appear as ashamed at the defeat from intent to conquer, as he seemed at the removal of his superior position in the bid for his son.
Son . He was their son. They were his parents. No shading could deny that fact.
Spike broke the gaze he and his mother shared and looked down at his open palms, his sharpened claws, his purple scales, harder than diamonds.
Even now… could he allow himself to see past his parents’ transgressions? They had not hurt anypony, but the intent to do so could not be denied.
Had they wished to harm them, the ponies who had unconditionally accepted and raised him as he was their own?
Would it be a betrayal to them, to Celestia and his friends, if his desires were to be realized?
Who am I? Where do I come from? What is it truly like to be a dragon?
Answers long sought, now rested before him in the form of two great dragons, patiently waiting for their son to speak his mind to them. Spike could not deny his desire to learn, to know, to become.
What about Applejack? He asked himself, ashamed that he was even considering his parents’ offer, despite all that had transpired.
Do you think that taking this journey will allow you to become even more for her? What knowledge could your parents bestow? What skills could they teach?
Would you use what you for her benefit? To show her how much you truly care?
She loves you no matter what you choose, no matter what you have to offer in the end and you know that. He accused himself, sensing the strife that his pending decision procured.
She will love me and I will love her. That will not change.
He made his decision.
Spike was about to give his answer when something caught his attention from above.
“Hello down there! Yoo-hoo!”
Rarity? Thought Spike
“Faster, Rainbow Dash! Faster!”
Pinkie Pie?
“Quiet it, Pink!”
Rainbow Dash?
“I think I pulled a wing.”
Fluttershy ?
From above the trees, a mauve balloon carried a wicker basket into the clearing. A pair of pegasi, the basket containing a unicorn and another earth pony, was guiding it. Before long, it touched down and was secured via tightened tether and pounded pegs, courtesy the unicorn. With her deed done, the alabaster-coated mare turned to gaze upon a most peculiar sight of beautiful dragons, graceful alicorns and the entire array of her closest friends. Rarity could not help but tear up with joy at the union of her fellow Elements as she quickly unfastened the ropes around both Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. The four newcomers galloped toward the waiting Twilight and Applejack. Both groups met in the middle.
Spike, however, remained behind, watching them long enough to hear his father huff, “Ponies….”
Spike chuckled in response.
Applejack could not contain her joy and relief upon seeing her friends all together again. It had been only a day, but the turmoil and uncertainty had taxed the orange farm mare for what felt closer to a month. Despite the joy, an underlying tone of sorrow gripped at her honest heart, one that she could not ignore fully, especially when she noticed that their group hug was missing a certain young dragon. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Spike standing alone, a soft smile upon his lips. His emerald eyes danced with welling tears, for his joy would soon leave him and she knew it.
“Spike?” she softly called. His smile curved a little more at the mention of his name, though he did not respond. Swiftly, Applejack broke the embrace of her friends and went to him. As she did so, the remaining Elements followed.
Spike’s eyes turned up to meet those of his mighty parents.
“To answer your question, I am here on my own, dad, mom,” began he, “but only to try and avert your fire from innocent ponies.” A long silence shared the moment with these words.
Then, he spoke once more, “I do not wish to immediately join you.”
“Immediately?” Applejack echoed, unsure of her flickering ears. She looked at him with worried, unbelieving eyes. “You mean that after all this, you’re goin’ with ‘em anyway?”
Spike turned back to Applejack, but she was unable to meet his gaze. His palm gently found its way to her cheek and he slowly turned her hear to face his. All he could see was pain, longing, disbelief. He wanted to soothsay the fears she bore, to assure her that his words were untrue and to prove her eyes correct in their judgment. However, he knew they were not, thus the silence that bound the orange earth pony.
“I know what I am saying, AJ,” Spike began, “but I realized just how far my parents were willing to go, travel, fight just to have me back. I cannot agree with their methods, but I can see their reason.” Applejack shook her head, unwilling to hear any of it, but he placed a gentle palm upon her cheek and smiled.
“Just now long is ‘immediately,’ Spike?” Twilight asked, stepping forward.
“When I say so.” This was Spike’s answer. He then looked back to the dragons and spoke on, “I am your son. I am Severezhad and you require no army to take me, only the willingness to hear me.” Spike spoke with such grace, even Twilight was amazed by its quality. She saw then what Celestia saw, what Applejack had always seen and what it nearly cost her to see.
Applejack wrapped a forelimb around Spike’s shoulder, fighting tears as best she could, though the Element of Honesty could only delay such truths for so long.
“Does this mean you’ll stay here in Equestria with us? With me?” She sniffed.
Spike embraced his mare, and she embraced her dragon. “I would rather have a lifetime with you and not miss a single day of it than to see them slip away.” A tightness grew in his chest and his breath grew short. Applejack tilted her head, listening.
Dadaelus huffed and growled. “Then our odyssey was for naught! I have lost my kin, my children unborn and now I lose my Severezhad as well.”
“No,” Spike replied, looking his father in the eye. “One day I’ll join you and mother, but that day will but of my choice alone.” A sudden feeling of heaviness weighed upon him.
“I... understand, son.” Nalthanida whispered.
“Thank you, mother.” Spike whispered back. He shivered as chill crawled up his spine.
“I accept your terms, son.” Dadaelus looked between Spike and Applejack. The great dragon lightly shook his head and mumbled to himself, “Though I will never understand how they are supposed to work. A pony and a dragon.”
“It doesn’t have to be understood between others, old friend,” Celestia spoke. “It only has to be cherished between them.” Lady Nalthanida looked quizzically at the alicorn, her green eyes cautious, yet curious. Dadaelus merely grumbled.
Luna then spoke, “Why do you not stay and visit for the while, friend Dragons? We are sure there is much we can learn from one-another.” Celestia nodded in agreement. The Elements exchanged a mixture of glances, Fluttershy’s being the most apprehensive. Spike, however, seemed pleased with the idea, though the chill now coursed through his body. Darkness edged his sight.
Twilight offered, “I’m sure we can find a nice place in Ponyville for the both of you. Panicking and fearful ponies notwithstanding, but that will pass with time, I’m sure, right Fluttershy?”
Fluttershy shrank behind Rainbow Dash and quivered. Spike watched the shaking felt the same way. He too felt the subtle shivering that now claimed his composure. Applejack’s eyes widened in concern as she whispered, “You’re gettin’ cold, Spike. Is something wrong?”
“I... don’t...” The dark overtook him.
“What’s happening to him!” Applejack called to Celestia, then to the Great Dragons.
“Spike!” Applejack’s voice calling his name was all heard when his faculties, too, gave way to nothingness.
They said that they could not tell for sure.
But all that matters is that you’re safe, sugarcube.
Please come back to me.
I love you.
Three weeks have passed .
I try not to think about it.
I come to visit as often as I can.
Twilight’s taking good care of you.
I can’t wait for that to be my job.
I almost hate to admit it:
But your folks are alright, hun.
The one and only comfort I can find,
Is in their words.
How you will become greater than I know you to be.
...
Another three weeks have passed
Been the slowest of my life.
They’re sayin’ you can wake up any time.
I’ll be waiting for you when you do.
You should see yourself now....
Summer nights had never been so lonely for Applejack. She waved goodbye to her friends as they finished cleaning up after the party. The occasion was lost on her, but it was a good party with music, food fights, dancing, and laughter all around. But, like all great things, it had to end.
The moon highlighted the sheen of her apple orchards, a long familiar sight. Applejack appreciated their reflection, as if they were thousands of little candles to light her path home. Usually, Big Mac would walk home with her, but his recent injury saw to his early retirement for the night. The doctor had said that it would take another six weeks until the inflammation in his leg permitted him to buck to full capacity once more. Every night since, Applejack finished her work late and walked home under the watchful gaze of the moon, be there wind, rain or midsummer heat. Every night she would stop at one particular spot and stare at the lonely hill, shaded by a single apple tree. It was that spot where she and her dragon had once sat, spoken, laughed, learned and eventually began to fall for eachother. For several moments, she would simply sit and stare, lost amid her new memories, brief as they were. Brief, but joyful.
That was when something about her favourite hilltop caught her eye. It was unusual, strange, foreign. An odd silhouette against the night sky stirred something inside her. At first, it was confusion. And then it shifted against the lonely tree and that stirring turned into outright alarm. She held her tongue and decided, against her better judgment, to investigate.
Whatever it was, it was no pony. Considerably larger than a stallion, even Big MacIntosh himself, it appeared to be sitting against the lonely apple tree, its back seemingly to her. It was then that she noticed its back was shimmering against the moonlight, a pale, beautiful purple sheen. Scales, interlinked and impenetrable. Along the centre of the creature’s back was a row of sharp emerald spines that grated against the tree bark. Applejack listened and could hear a deep and steady breathing; a low rumble punctuated each breath.
‘It’, she reasoned, was a ‘he’.
“Hello, AJ.”
The voice was deep, almost calming rhythmic. The farm mare’s heart nearly stopped at the familiar, friendly tone. He turned to face her and she nearly collapsed.
“S-Spike?” she breathed and stammered. Tears threatened to obscure her vision.
He chuckled an answer. It was Spike and he had grown. Applejack simply stared at his larger frame that easily stood taller than her, even Big Mac, as she confirmed. His body was long, slender and detailed with recency of his growth. The inner struggle, strife and conquest was indicated by the underlying sinew and muscle. His snout had elongated, his teeth were plenty and sharp as daggers. His jaw was squared and set and his scales were brilliant. The only thing that had not changed, Applejack noted as she slowly reached out to stroke his face, were his emerald eyes. They shone still with the wit, charm and love that he had left in her memories when he fell those six weeks ago.
“Spike…” she breathed once more as she took him into a long awaited embrace. She drew his warmth close to hers, Spike accepted with both arms and unfurled wings that wrapped around them both.
“You finally got your wings,” she stated, drawing back enough to look into his eyes once more.
He smiled and pressed his forehead against hers, saying, “You know that every time a pony dreams, a dragon gets his wings?”
She laughed and said, “That is the most plum-ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I had to think of something clever for my surprise return to the world of the living,” he nuzzled her affectionately.
“Do the others know?” Applejack asked.
“Probably not. As soon as I woke up, I used the window.”
“Should we tell them?” she asked, brushing her shout against his.
Spike appeared to seriously consider the suggestion and teased Applejack with a deep chuckle. “I say let ‘em sleep.” He slowly closed the distance between their lips.
“Whoa-ho, there, loverboy,” she smiled at the corniness of it all as she put forth no resistance.
As the night deepened in humble Ponyville, a certain pink party pony stirred from her slumber and mentally checked a list of festivity supplies she felt she would need for tomorrow.
A/N: This is the re-worked version of the original ending. Call me unsettled or fickle, but I appreciate the feedback nonetheless. If you would like, I can upload the alternate ending and Epilogue and let you decide which one you prefer. All I know is my old choice of ending garnered the majority of the dislikes of this story, heh. That, and my April Fool's joke.
Either way, Epilogue is coming....
Epilogue
//-----------------------------
Twilight Sparkle rose late the next day, true to her new routine established six weeks ago. Her studies had not suffered as a result, though the emptiness of her life seemed forever punctuated by the presence of Spike laying unconscious in his new bed. She had since move him into the basement to accommodate his growth. Today, however, felt unusual. She felt the urge to rummage through her storage closet and retrieve his old basket, if only to look at it. She could not reason as to why she did, she only followed her instinct that eventually led her right to the discarded wicker bed. It was at it always had been: tidy, compact, and adorable.
Then, a loud knock on the door snapped Twilight out of her stupor.
“Visitors? Already?” Twilight tilted her head and opened the door with a friendly greeting smile upon her tired visage.
That smile turned into blank stare, which twisted into an abrupt frown of familiarity and concentration.
“A very odd way to greet library-goers, Twi.” A hearty laugh accompanied the deep, smooth voice that flowed from the tall purple creature that sat in front of her. The being was built as a strong stallion, at least a hoof or two above Big MacIntosh and he—she was sure it was a he with a silky voice like that—seemed so startlingly strange, yet familiar to her. However, it was the stranger’s unchanged emerald eyes that jogged her memories. The answer to Twilight’s fresh batch of questions hung before her, though her rational mind simply concluded that her mental state combated for a response between panic and utter mirth. Only one could win and be elicited from the young unicorn’s expression.
“I think you may have overdone it, sugarcube.”
“Look at her face! Bwa-ha, hah!”
“Guess who’s back! I bet you can’t guess! Oh, if I were you I’d guess anyway because guessing is half the fun and what’s the point of guessing if –”
“Darling, you look absolutely fatigued! Here, let me get my emergency morning kit!”
“Um, I hope Twilight’s going to be okay… she’s stiff as a board.”
Panic had won the duel, though mirth was close behind. As result, Twilight simply collapsed. When she came to, she saw the familiar faces of her best friends and fellow Elements. “Oh, you guys!” she began, “I had the most strange and wonderful dream! Spike was awake and all grown up, and very handsome too, I might add, and you were there… and you were there…
“Why am I on the floor?”
Applejack giggled and offered a helping hoof up off the hardwood, “This good dream of yours seems pretty real t’me, Twilight.”
The unicorn looked over where the orange earth pony was standing and mirth won by a landslide. Before words could even be exchange, she tackled the wall of purple scales and immovable muscle. Still, he received her warmly in a tight embrace.
With tears unleashed, Twilight Sparkle squeezed the past six weeks out of her little brother.
“Heh, I missed you too, Twi.” Spike gently smiled as she looked up at him with large glinting eyes and a sniffled snout.
Then, without warning, she stepped back and delivered a single, unexpected and ultimately ineffective punch to his arm. “Six weeks of unconsciousness and the first thing you do when you wake up is take off on me without the slightest idea!”
“Twi…” Spike raised his claws defensively.
“No letters, notes or even arrow scrolls!”
“Twi.”
“No rocks with tribal inscriptions!”
“Seriously? If you let me -”
“No crop circles!”
“Twi!”
“Absolutely no correspondence whatsoever!”
Spike did the only thing he could think of then, and that was to envelope his sister into another hug, hopefully muffling her outrage so he could speak. It worked and she calmed down… for the moment before rising into an indignant stupor again.
As her friends watched the ridiculousness unfold before them, Spike and Applejack tried to get their unicorn friend’s attention, but to no avail. Or so it was until Rarity tapped Twilight on the shoulder, “Twilight, dear, please listen carefully, because I know you’re excited and all; believe me, we are too – but there are more pressing matters that require—a”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake: THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED!” Rainbow Dash hung in the air above Twilight.
Twilight’s ears perked and she glanced up toward Rainbow Dash. “Who is getting married?” She glanced from Dash to Fluttershy to a widely grinning Pinkie Pie to an unimpressed Rarity, all of whom pointed a hoof in one direction.
Spike stood tall and proud as a smile snaked across his face. Applejack flushed an apple red hue and nuzzled her head against Spike’s shoulder. Twilight did not notice at first, but upon her left hoof sat a perfectly fitted gold and diamond-set band, light refracting elegantly along the surface. What dragons lack in formal writing skills and materials, they made up for in beautiful treasures that adorned their hoards. In this case, a gift from Dadaelus and Naltahnida.
“Oh.” Twilight felt faint once more, but was braced by an enthusiastic Rainbow Dash. They shared a laugh as the unicorn righted herself and dove into Applejack’s arms with gleeful facilitations. She gave Spike another strike to the arm for leaving her as the last pony to be informed of the proposal.
“Does this mean that Pinkie has already planned–”
“A party!” The pink pony interrupted with wide blue eyes, “Duh!” Bouncing in Pinkie Pie fashion, she led the congregation toward Sweet Apple Acres where the Apple Family barn had been painstakingly prepared for yet another prestigious Pinkie Pie party.
The Library had been closed and sealed for the day and no pony could enter through conventional means. The doors were locked and the windows shut, save for a lofty skylight left purposely ajar. This entrance served as the conduit for a certain brown-feathered owl of uncanny intelligence and of whom held special value to the librarian he belonged to. Of his many tasks, the owl served as a part time letter retriever for all regular postage that had not arrived via Spike’s magical flame.
On this special day, the owl had but a single roll of parchment, modestly sealed and plainly inscribed.
It read:
Dear Twilight Sparkle,
It feels strange, writing to you for the first time in the many years that we have known one another. But, I assure you that I write with purpose and sincerity!
Her Royal Majesties, Princesses Celestia and Luna have encouraged me to look back proudly upon my years of servitude as well as to officially store my armour. It is then, with great hesitation, that I announce my retirement from the ranks of the Honour Guard and my resignation from the post of Officer Commanding.
I feel that it is only appropriate that I write to you and your family that I have officially handed my office over to none other than your honourable brother, Shining Armour. He is a very capable stallion who commanded a forward position at the Citadel’s battlements and would have been the first to repel the dragon invaders had they the audacity to strike. He is a safe choice for my replacement, whole-heartedly endorsed by the Regents themselves, peace be upon them.
As mentioned above, I have chosen to write both you and your parents of these events. To your most noble family, I end their letter here.
To you, Miss Sparkle, I extend a less formal epistle:
It appears that my sacred trust exists only on parchment and upon the words of silver tongues. The vow of my life for the protection of the Dual Thrones is now moot and I cannot look back on my years with pride when my remaining years forward have seen the failure of my integrity, the discarding of my vows.
Yet, I obey my Princesses, for their words are Law. Like my armour, I am to be stored away in a keep of my choosing to live the last of my days in quiet sanctuary. My life upon the edge of a spear would seem a fitting end to the days and service of Captain Clegmane!
Alas, I am no longer Captain, but simply: Clegmane.
The hall that I have chosen as my last is the empty estate of my late wife’s family. Long since abandoned for the lofty heights of Canterlot, it is the site of my marriage and the last resting place of my beloved Vidalia.
The estate is called Oignon Downs and it rests upon the hilltop overlooking the town of Seasaddle, nestled Northeast of Canterlot, along the coast of the Pintocific Ocean. It is a cozy little village - a radical change from the bustling Citadel! I may run for mayor, should I be so fortunate. Although, I am blessed with enough spare time to actually pursue one final campaign….
If you should so desire to pay a visit to a grizzled warhorse, I shall be there spending my days occupied with the restoration of these old Oignon halls.
I shall not return to Canterlot for any reason, lest my Princesses summon me, but I welcome a familiar face to help pass my many long hours. I can predict that no excitement shall match the threat of a pending dragon invasion, but I already crave a changing of pace.
Will you grant this discarded warhorse at least a single visit, perchance, before the winter settles?
If you are unable, I understand completely. I would rather suffer the Night Watch than suffer to demand of you something that you do not wish. Be warned that I am used to entertaining the polish of my armour or a nigh-bottomless list of duties, not esteemed colleagues or… old friends. Please forgive my forward nature, for it has been all too long since I’ve written so informally.
I look forward to hearing from you, Twilight.
With best wishes and affection,
-Clegmane, Captain (ret’d).
Author’s Note:
The previous chapter has been somewhat updated with an extended outlook into Spike’s decision. The alternate ending and epilogues will be post on request.
Please keep in mind that this story was written over a year ago, preceding the airing of Dragon Quest and S2 finale. The update included Shining Armour, though the fine details will conflict with official canon. I have disregarded these conflicts, so please don’t feel obligated to infer upon them.
I would foremost like to thank all my readers for their support and, well, readership! This has been a fun little exploration into the crack pairing that is Spikeljack (aka Spack). I enjoyed writing every word, sentence, paragraph, and chapter.
As per my indications, I have ideas and plans for a direct sequel to this story, so stay tuned. My only question is: should I begin a new story altogether or simply attach it to this story, thus retaining the continuation via omnibus?
I doubt it would be considered a ‘saga’ due to length and ‘epicness’ being both short and nonexistent, respectively. How does that even sound to the ear: The Unintentionally Yours Saga? The Whoa-ho, Loverboy Saga? I’m sure I’ll figure it out.
Also, if you use the dislike feature, please comment and let me know why, so I may improve for next time! Thank you.
So, until we meet again, stay gold. . . . . . . …Bang.
Intentional (Alternate Ending)
This is the alternate, non-headcanon version of the final Chapter. It is the original idea I went with for the ending, but was not ultimately satisfied, hence the current ending.
Happy readings while I prepare to post the sequel!
Celestia recalled the days when she and her sister flew side by side. It was a gentler time, when the beating of their wings signified an amicable race from one end of the continent to the other. Such was the last time she and Luna had ever paced themselves so intensely.
Then came the resent, the darkness, the Nightmare and one thousand years of utter loneliness. Now, Luna had returned in all of her former regal glory and their wings defied the ground once more, together; only this time the urgency existed not in jest, but in desperation. Before the royal pony sisters was a most imposing sight never before seen in Equestria: a throng of dragons, an army one thousand-strong, headed for Canterlot. They came as per the dire agreement between Celestia and their Lord Dadaelus, who headed the army. The fierce crimson reptile guided his followers toward the mountain-based Citadel and Celestia could see the smoke billowing from his nostrils. Anger surged within his golden eyes, though they could not compare to what Celestia could see in the dark jade eyes of Lady Nalthanida. There was menace within the elegant blue dragon that denoted the ferocity of a mother scorned of her child. Celestia knew the feeling. As they neared the winged horde, the eldest sister was taken aback as Dadaelus halted, mid-beat and bellowed aloud. The sound swept across the land, petrifying it. Celestia and Luna halted in place, their wings sustaining their lofty heights. At once, the army of dragons held their positions, daring not to venture forward, lest their lord command otherwise.
Such loyalty he wields, Celestia wondered. We shall see what kind of loyalty they all bear. The Regent of the Sun and her lunar sister cautiously approached the line. Dadaelus and Nalthanida flew forward to meet them. Fire glowed in the dragons’ brilliant eyes and Celestia wondered if Luna felt the same intimidation. Fortunately, like her sister, the Princess of the Night refused to allow her expression to become readable. The dragons of Royum employed the resolve that marked their hard visages. They will not be easily swayed, the eldest sister concluded. The waiting lines of dragons remained ever in her periphery as Celestia motioned Luna to join her in meeting her son’s true parents.
When the emissaries were met, they met in silence. Celestia made note of Dadaelus and the powerful musculature that rippled beneath his crimson scales. The hidden sinew relaxed and contracted with angered fervor. Of Nalthanida, her strong jaw was set, shut and containing her vicious fangs. Her slender, formidable frame, relaxed, as it was, seemed coiled and prepared to strike. The Princess ignored the dragoness’s deportment and focused instead in the lord, who opened his mouth as if to speak. Silently, Celestia prepared against any fire set to spew forth from the beast’s breath. A simple spell, magnified tenfold in five, she conjured lest her caution be justified. The barrier would encompass both Luna and herself, though the she trusted that the sister of silver night shared in her caution.
Regardless, she smiled when Dadaelus unleashed not flame, but words wreathed within them. Steam nonetheless rose from his nostrils as he spoke, “I was incorrect in my speculation, Celestia.” Such a greeting would have been dismissed in lesser diplomatic arenas, but the princess did not stir.
“May I ask, old friend, what your speculation encompassed?” Celestia softly responded.
“Old friend?” Dadaelus scoffed, “Now I see that my speculation was wholly inaccurate!”
“It is unlike a dragon to admit his shortcomings,” Luna conjectured.
Dadaelus passively dismissed the Night Princess, remaining focused on that of the Sun, “One thousand years has not settled your sister’s rebellious tongue, Celestia, though I admit it is also surprising to see her present, materialized, and facing the victims of her theft.”
Luna held her tongue long enough for Celestia to speak, “My sister intended to compliment the Dragonlord, for it takes great integrity, from either dragons of ponies, to even admit the smallest of errors; in your case, Royum Dadaelus, the incorrect speculation of our cowardice.”
Dadaelus said nothing, though the steam that rose lessened in its profusion, ever slightly.
Celestia continued. “As for my reference to our friendship, I do not lie when I speak of it, strained as it may currently be. You have my friendship, so long as you wish it, Royum.” She gestured to both Lord and Lady. Nalthanida did not shift, though the princess could see her barely visible struggle to retain silence. Mothers often struggle with such things when their young are involved.
To her offer of friendship, Dadaelus merely scoffed, black smoke belching forth to blemish the paling sky. “Friends and allies need not steal children, Princess. Nor are they easily inclined to betray both trust and agreement.”
“I understand that you feel betrayed,” Celestia, for a brief moment, appeared despondent over that truth, but it was swift in its passing. “However, I pray that you do not use your army to enforce the consequences of that unfortunate misunderstanding.”
“My army,” breathed Dadaelus, “is here to claim what was promised to them, penance for the theft of their prince!”
“And how many of them,” Celestia calmly asked, “are willing to die today in order to stake their claims? Can we not come to an agreement? Pull your army back so we may understand one another.”
Dadaelus barred his fangs and Nalthanida hissed under her breath. “You and your banished sister are in no position to demand terms!” Celestia held her silent defense charm at the ready. “Surrender your city, lest you wish to suffer harm to your precious ponies,” the crimson dragon bellowed, is temper spent. “Your army cowers behind your Citadel’s enchanted walls and no escort follows you to your defense, save but one now approaching.”
Celestia knew it. She knew Spike would try something, anything to speak for himself and weigh his worth on the table. She smiled at how he had grown.
“Your son approaches,” she calmly informed the Royum.
“Is this some trickery, Celestia? Do I see my son drawing nigh?”
“Your keen eyes do not deceive you, old friend. There are no tricks, for your son does arrive of his own volition.” She closed her eyes, sensing harmony, “And he is not alone, for one accompanies him, one who cares deeply for him, and he for her.”
Dadaelus looked toward the approaching chariot, too far away for mere pony eyes to scrutinize, but simple for dragons to observe. He then looked to his mate, her eyes widening as her young offspring neared.
“Let us talk, Dadaelus and Nalthanida,” Celestia implored, glancing hopefully at her sister. “Hear the words of your son, not as my charge or your brood, but as an individual. If these are not the terms that we had previously agreed upon, please do not hesitate to elaborate.”
“This changes nothing, Celestia,” Dadaelus smoldered. “There is no turning back.” Lady Nalthanida glanced at her mate, her expression quizzical before returning it to the approaching chariot.
Celestia sighed, “Even now, you cannot lower your guard?”
Dadaelus said nothing, for he too began to focus on the chariot, eying it expectantly.
“You know that I cannot allow the surrender of this city. There are far too many innocent lives to be ruined in the name of the lost Royumborn.” Celestia’s voice rippled through the air.
Dadaelus quietly lifted his gaze back to the regal alicorn sisters, “It is not your place to command what my army may or may not claim, nor order where it may lay siege.”
“Then we tell you this now, Dadaelus,” Celestia’s voice darkened, “Speak with us and disband these dragons, or I shall break the back of your army here and now.”
Black smoke erupted from the Dragonlord’s mouth as he growled against the challenge that Celestia dared issue, “No amount of magiks, even from the immortals could hope to break my army. You shall see the cost of your insolent words, pony!”
Celestia’s horn shimmered then with a golden light. In an instant, it emitted a bright flash that caught nearly every eye in all of Equestria.
“See anythin’ sugar?” Applejack squinted toward the swiftly unfolding scene before them.
“They aren’t fighting… yet,” Spike responded, for he could see the meeting clearly: his father was at the vanguard of the siege. His mother flew by her mate’s side, her radiant blue scales reflecting the light of the rising sun. Opposite his true parents, Spike saw his adoptive parent, Celestia, visibly speaking to the crimson dragon. Princess Luna silently hung by her sister’s side.
“How close would you like us to get, Master Spike?” both pegasus guards glanced back toward their commander, unsettled expressions upon their white-coated faces.
A sudden gust overtook them with a great flash and the chariot became a score more crowded. A lavender coat and sparkly cutie mark now separated the dragon from his orange mare.
A familiar voice thundered in both of their ears, “Not. One. League. Further!”
“Twilight?” Spike jumped out of his scales and Applejack nearly lost her stetson to the wind, a quick hoof denying the hat its tumbling fate. The unicorn shot him a livid stare that could only Fluttershy could rival. Her disheveled mane blowing carelessly in the passing breeze only underscored the desperation in her purple eyes.
“Twi? What’re–” Applejack was interrupted as Twilight flashed her the exact same stampede-halting stare.
“We’re going back. Now!” she yelled toward the pegasi, who both sighed with relief.
“No!” Spike, countermanded, “I need to see my parents! I need to stop them from destroying Canterlot!” The pegasi considered this and hesitated in their turn.
“The Princesses can handle it, Spike,” countered Twilight. “You have to trust them.”
“Twi,” Applejack tried to get her friend’s attention and succeeded. “I know this seems crazier than wrestling a wily rattler, but I believe in Spike’s plan as much as I believe in the princesses’.”
“AJ, I don’t want to see you all get hurt… or worse! We need to turn back to Canterlot where we may actually be of use!”
Spike folded his arms and looked away, “Not this time, Twilight.” His adoptive sister dropped her head and was about to speak when Spike continued. “My place is there, trying to stop a terrible thing from happening. This is all because of me and I need to be a part of it, an active part, not just some prize to be fought over!”
“But,” Twilight protested.
“I will not allow Canterlot to burn because of me!” Spike’s eyes set forward and he regarded the pair of pegasi. “Keep going forward, I will not let anything happen to you.”
The pegasi offered a worried glance, but did not hold it amid the young dragon’s resolve. With frustrated breaths, and no command issued by the Element of Magic, the guards pressed on toward the meeting. It was then that a bright flash nearly blinded them all, sending the chariot nearly off-course. Before the disorientation could take any toll, however, the flash receded and the balance of fortune has shifted beneath them.
As quickly as it had appeared, the light vanished, leaving but little sparks to flicker and fade about Celestia’s inert horn, all glowing ceased. A mischievous grin formed upon her perfect visage. Before the dragon could respond, something stole his attention and not only that of his mate, but of all the one thousand-strong army of drakes that hung in the air around Canterlot. In the valleys beneath them, a new brilliance shimmered in the risen morning light as a beacon from below. Dadaelus’s jaw hung limp with rapture and confusion, for the sight before him could do naught but confound.
For, cast onto the valley below from the alabaster foundations of the Citadel’s high walls, appeared near endlessly procured mounds of golden, glimmering treasures. Troves upon troves of riches comprised of bits, gems, crowns and cases, all present and all bare. These all flowed as freely as a mountain stream from the very walls that once concealed such vast amounts. Before the moment ended, the valleys beneath the Citadel became a sea of overflowing with gold.
Celestia continued to speak then. Her voice was long, loud and heard all across Equestria,
“Dragons, welcome strangers from beyond our borders! Thou hast flown countless leagues for the promise of wealth to return to thine homes and hoards, all at the behest of thine Lord Dadaelus!”
One thousand scaled, fire-breathing heads listened, their tongues hanging with distracted fervor.
She continued, “We, the Princesses of Night and Day do offer you this gift for thine troubles and bid thee a safe return to thine homes across the sea! No more shouldst thou obey thine Lord, for his promise is fulfilled and thou art now free to retire!”
Dadaelus could have not suffered to look away, had a more damning sight not overtaken him: the dragons at his side, all one thousand strong of his mighty siege, fell from their loftily held positions, each diving headlong for the golden troughs offered to them. One valley of gold, one thousand dragons, one moment of ferocious and covetous gatherings with nervous ponies looking downward from above, in untested battlements.
As vultures to fresh carrion, the valleys were stripped of their new golden flesh. Not one bit or single gem was forgot, all carried away within the arms and maws of satiated dragons, once loyal. Against the morning light, one thousand dragons departed, decorating the horizon with their glinting charges.
Before long, one thousand dragons were reduced to a mere single pair. Dadaelus and Nalthanida silently glanced over the valley, now threadbare as if Celestia had cast no spell. For once in that morning of uncertainty, the crimson-scaled Dadaelus held no words to speak, nor any threats to utter. Nalthanida was the first to look away from the valley, to offer the alicorn sisters a most unusual glance. Sadness? Defeat? Indignation? Celestia herself could not tell. Then, something else caught her attention.
“Mom? Dad?”
Both adult dragons then turned to face a lonely chariot, flown by a pair of nervously quiet armoured pegasi. Within the seat of the luxurious chariot sat a pair of familiar sights, accompanied by one that was unfamiliar: Their son, the diminutive purple dragon, the lavender unicorn that was Celestia’s protégé, and a wide-eyed earthen pony with a rich orange coat. The headdress, they could not explain.
“Severezhad,” Nalthanida breathed and lowered her head, forgetting her anger upon seeing her son. Her great snout reached over the distressed pegasi and toward Spike, who placed his open palm upon it. The orange pony, the one that Nalthanida remembered her son referring to as Applejack, simply offered a nervous, but warm smile as she respectfully removed her strange hat.
What could only be described as a draconic smile only served to further distress the pale pegasi.
“Perhaps,” Luna suggested, interrupting the moment, “we should land and continue this renewed reunion upon solid ground.” The Princess of the Night winked reassurance to the pegasus pilots while the rest of the unusual entourage nodded in silent agreement.
“Hm, no burning cities or forests, nor do I see any refugees. What do you see, Pinkie?” Rarity asked.
“Dragons!” responded the pink party pony with glee.
Fluttershy visibly gulped, feeling very vulnerable and tenthered to a slow-moving balloon, “R-really? Um, how many?”
“I think a thousand dragons,” Pinkie Pie scrutinized the skies with her trusty bifocals.
“There’s no fire or smoke and Canterlot seems to be all hunk-dory!” Pinkie Pie chirped and the friends sighed in relief.
“Okay, so Canterlot is safe, but what am I looking at northward?” Rainbow Dash pointed in the direction of the great valley that met the mountain.
Pinkie Pie shifted her bifocals over to the general direction and searched for a long moment before gasping aloud, “I see the Princesses, both Celestia and Luna talking to a pair of large scary-looking dragons. They don’t look to happy.”
Fluttershy squeaked.
“And what’s that tiny distant object approaching them?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“That looks like Princess Celestia’s royal chariot, but I can’t see who’s in it.”
“Maybe they’re going to pick up the princesses?” Rarity pondered aloud.
“Maybe they’re bringing an emissary?” Fluttershy offered.
Pinkie beamed. “Maybe they’re delivering a great big chocolate cake to settle all their differences and then throw a huge, ‘No Hard Feelings About This Potential War Shenanigans’ party!”
Then, through her bifocals, the party pony espied a flash of light that emanated from the chariot and out of thin air, a familiar purple pony dropped right into it. “Or it could be Twilight trying to intercept a wild runaway chariot that could possibly be used in an act of subterfuge to undermine whatever shaky-flakey peace that the Princesses managed to broker with the dragons!”
The remaining Elements looked back at her, their eyebrows collectively raised. Pinkie did not take notice of their expressions because something else caught her eye when Twilight materialized: a purple-scaled head with bright emerald crests and a well-worn stetson being blown away, but caught by an orange-coated hoof. The pink pony’s already dilated eyes threatened the integrity of her irises by widening even further.
“It’s Spike and Applejack in that chariot!”
“What?!” Rarity collapsed, Rainbow Dash’s wings skipped a beat and Fluttershy’s jaw hung limp.
“Yep!” Pinkie Pie grinned, happy that she could see her friends.
Rarity recovered from her heart’s near failure and hip-checked Pinkie out of her way, grabbing hold of the bifocals as she did. With a deep gasp, the fashionista shouted to the tomboy and the sweetheart pegasi, “We need to cover this distance and get our friends out of that frying pan before it turns into a fire!”
“Aye-aye, Cap’n!” Rainbow Dash saluted and drove her wings into overdrive.
Fluttershy tried to keep up, but the ever-present danger that her friends were facing soon overcame the meekness of her flying skills. With added effort, the shy pegasus drove forward, keeping in pace with Rainbow Dash. Rarity and Pinkie held on for dear life as the balloon surged forward and tilted.
“Whee!” Pinkie Pie was having the time of her life.
As the balloon approached the meeting place, the entire entourage was then diverted ground ward, into a nearby clearing. Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash veered and followed with renewed vigour in their wings.
A bright flash suddenly took them all off guard, causing Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy to screech to a halt. Rarity shielded her eyes and Pinkie was blown backward, tumbling to the floor of the basket in a pink heap.
“What was that?” Rainbow Dash called out.
“I don’t know,” replied Rarity. “Pinkie, can you tell us?”
At once, Pinkie Pie bounced up and peeked through her lenses. With a loud gasp, she shouted, “They’re leaving! All with armfuls of treasure and flying away from the city!”
“Well, that’s go–wait, what did you say?” Rarity gasped.
“Leaving?” asked a perplexed Rainbow Dash, “why would they be leaving?”
Fluttershy chanced a question of her own. “And why with treasure? Did they manage to….” The cream-coloured pegasus whimpered at the shared and dreaded thought that collectively settled amongst the Elements.
“Nope!” Pinkie cheerfully answered. Canterlot is unharmed and there’s only two dragons left.
“Those must be Spike’s parents,” Rainbow asserted.
“There’re headed for the forest floor now, all of them,” Pinkie reported.
“Then they may still need our help!” Rarity explained. “Take us down there, girls!”
“Do-do we have to?”
The dragons rested upon the forest floor, brightly coloured and misplaced beings within the peaceful clearing. Before them, Celestia and Luna lay quietly, their ghostly manes tossing carelessly in a breeze unfelt. The chariot sat a distance away with the armoured pegasi talking quietly amongst their selves. Between the regal sisters and the mighty dragons sat a peculiar pair: a young purple dragon, a studious lavender unicorn mare and an orange earth mare wearing a strange hat. The dragons regarded them with curious, yet hardened eyes.
The crimson Dadaelus spoke first, shattering the serenity, “It appears that you, my son, have decided to return to us by your own will, according to Celestia.”
“Is this true, Severezhad?” Nalthanida finished her mate’s sentence; hope glimmering in her icy green eyes.
Where had this journey led him? Where had it lead them all? Spike’s turmoil rolled wildly within his fire-breathing chest. He offered such little resistance upon first meeting his parents, imposing and powerful as they were.
And then they invaded Canterlot, all for a misunderstanding? They thought him recaptured when in fact a pony had rescued his life, no less! What had his parents done? Spike looked on and met his mother’s eyes and the hope that lingered there.
Did they truly believe that their siege would win their Severezhad over?
Still, the look of his mother, his true mother, her wondrous blue hue, her richly shaded eye indicated that the surrounding events were not of her desire. For the first time in their brief knowledge of one another’s existence, Spike could see innocence in his very mother’s hopeful expression. For the first time in so many, many years, her only surviving dragonling had chosen to approach her.
Surviving. The word circled about the young dragon’s mind in a swirl of un-deniability. Even then, their accidental neglect had pushed him away from them, allowing Celestia to save and therefore raise him.
He wanted to be angry with his father’s callousness, to deny him what he had striven to accomplish. Canterlot was spared not due to his mercy, but to the false faith he held for his fellow dragons and their misplaced loyalty. Celestia had outwitted him and defeated an entire horde of covetous drakes by the power of her will alone.
If one thousand dragons can be routed by one regal alicorn, then what chance did his father have of obtaining his goal? He had failed and Spike could see the weight of that failure upon Dadaelus’ heavy brow.
Nalthanida, however, simply looked upon Spike and he gazed back. She did not carry the shattered pride of her mate, his father. She seemed all to content to see her son once more, in one piece, bravely seeking her out.
Suddenly, Spike’s resolve could not hold the boiling waters that he imagined it would. Earlier, Spike would have openly declared how unworthy they were to carry him back to the dragonlands! Such a display of power and ruthlessness did not warrant the reward his father and mother truly sought.
Truly sought. They did not dive for the offered gold as their brethren and sisters had. It did not hold the same value. Nalthanida, even then, could not remove her gaze from her son, her eyes locked covetously upon a treasure she had long thought lost. Spike did not overlook this detail. Lord Dadaelus himself did not appear as crestfallen when his army had betrayed him, abandoned him. The proud and mighty dragon did not appear as ashamed at the defeat from intent to conquer, as he seemed at the removal of his superior position in the bid for his son.
Son . He was their son. They were his parents. No shading could deny that fact.
Spike broke the gaze he and his mother shared and looked down at his open palms, his sharpened claws, his purple scales, harder than diamonds.
Even now… could he allow himself to see past his parents’ transgressions? They had not hurt anypony, but the intent to do so could not be denied.
Had they wished to harm them, the ponies who had unconditionally accepted and raised him as he was their own?
Would it be a betrayal to them, to Celestia and his friends, if his desires were to be realized?
Who am I? Where do I come from? What is it truly like to be a dragon?
Answers long sought, now rested before him in the form of two great dragons, patiently waiting for their son to speak his mind to them. Spike could not deny his desire to learn, to know, to become.
What about Applejack? He asked himself, ashamed that he was even considering his parents’ offer, despite all that had transpired.
Do you think that taking this journey will allow you to become even more for her? What knowledge could your parents bestow? What skills could they teach?
Would you use what you for her benefit? To show her how much you truly care?
She loves you no matter what you choose, no matter what you have to offer in the end and you know that. He accused himself, sensing the guilt that his pending decision procured.
She will love me and I will love her. That will not change.
He made his decision.
Spike was about to give his answer when something caught his attention from above.
“Hello down there! Yoo-hoo!”
Rarity? Thought Spike
“Faster, Rainbow Dash! Faster!”
Pinkie Pie?
“Quiet it, Pink!”
Rainbow Dash?
“I think I pulled a wing.”
Fluttershy?
From above the trees, a mauve balloon carried a wicker basket into the clearing. A pair of pegasi, the basket containing a unicorn and another earth pony, was guiding it. Before long, it touched down and was secured via tightened tether and pounded pegs, courtesy the unicorn. With her deed done, the alabaster-coated mare turned to gaze upon a most peculiar sight of beautiful dragons, graceful alicorns and the entire array of her closest friends. Rarity could not help but tear up with joy at the union of her fellow Elements as she quickly unfastened the ropes around both Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. The four newcomers galloped toward the waiting Twilight and Applejack. Both groups met in the middle.
Spike, however, remained behind, watching them long enough to hear his father huff, “Ponies….”
Spike chuckled.
Applejack could not contain her joy and relief upon seeing her friends all together again. It had been only a day, but the turmoil and uncertainty had taxed the orange farm mare for what felt closer to a month. Despite the joy, an underlying tone of sorrow gripped at her honest heart, one that she could not ignore fully, especially when she noticed that their group hug was missing a certain young dragon. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Spike standing alone, a soft smile upon his lips. His emerald eyes danced with welling tears, for his joy would soon leave him and she knew it.
“Spike?” she softly called. His smile curved a little more at the mention of his name, though he did not respond. Swiftly, Applejack broke the embrace of her friends and went to him. As she did so, the remaining Elements followed.
Spike’s eyes turned up to meet those of his mighty parents.
“To answer your question, I do come of my own will, father, mother,” began he, “but only to try and avert your fire from innocent ponies.” A long silence shared the moment with these words.
Then, he spoke once more, “I do not wish to immediately join you.”
“Immediately?” Applejack echoed, unsure of her flickering ears. She looked at him with worried, unbelieving eyes. “You mean that after all this, you’re goin’ with ‘em anyway?”
Spike turned back to Applejack, but she was unable to meet his gaze. His palm gently found its way to her cheek and he slowly turned her hear to face his. All he could see was pain, longing, disbelief. He wanted to soothsay the fears she bore, to assure her that his words were untrue and to prove her eyes correct in their judgment. However, he knew they were not, thus the silence that bound the orange earth pony.
“I’ve haven’t had a lot of time to think about this, AJ,” Spike began, “but I realized just how far my parents were willing to go, travel, fight just to have me back. I cannot agree with their methods, but I can see their reason.” Applejack shook her head, unwilling to hear any of it.
“I agree with Spike,” Twilight finally spoke, earning a hard stare from Applejack, who looked as though betrayed. Twilight defended her voice, “Though I cannot condone the course of action, I am glad to see that you, Royumi, are willing to listen to your son’s perspective and allow him to make a choice.”
Spike looked back to the dragons and spoke on, “I am your son. I am Severezhad and you require no army to take me, only the willingness to hear me.” Spike spoke with such grace, even Twilight was amazed by its quality. She saw then what Celestia saw, what Applejack had always seen and what it was costing her to see.
The orange earth pony wrapped a forelimb around Spike’s shoulder, fighting tears as best she could, though the Element of Honesty could only delay such truths for so long.
“Why can’t you stay here in Equestria with us? With me?” She nearly pleaded.
Spike embraced his mare, and she embraced her dragon. “This is something that I must do, in order to learn who I was really supposed to be, from the dragons who were supposed to be my parents. I need this, Applejack, just like you needed your family when you lived in Manehatten.” He sniffed, the weight of his decision crushing his very beating heart.
“But don’t let that desire change who you really are,” Applejack sounded defeated, for she understood the need in Spike’s life for what his parents offered. She knew also the cost, the distance expected, and the anguish she would feel at his loss. Her embrace was long and tight and before they would release. They understood one another, as they always had and tears flowed freely. Lightly, Spike pressed his forehead against Applejack’s and she nuzzled him in return, accidently knocking her hat free. It flopped onto the grassy floor, only to be levitated by the blue aura of Rarity’s magic. Her eyes flickered with tears of their own. Long faces and drooping ears, accompanied teary sniffles reverberated among the Elements, united in their grief.
From their resting place, Celestia bowed her head as Luna draped a dark wing over her sister in a comforting embrace. The Regent of the Sun was about to lose her sun, in many ways. Only Nalthanida took notice.
“Spiky-wikey,” Rarity sniffed, “Are you truly going to leave m—us behind?”
Spike solemnly nodded, unable to break Applejacks steady, loving gaze.
“I am.”
“But, but what will I do without my helpful assistant?” the fashionista asked loudly.
“Rarity,” Twilight cautioned, “if I can survive without him—hard as that will be from now on—then I am sure you will.”
“Thanks, Twi,” Spike smiled at his would-be-sister. “I will miss you too, Rarity. I will miss all of you!”
At that, they all gathered around him, each offering a tight hug.
“We’ll miss you, too, Spike,” Fluttershy whispered loud enough. Her pink mane obscured her face from the dragons, but was left open enough for her to make eye contact with a grateful Spike.
“Take care of your animal friends, Fluttershy. I want to see them healthy and strong whenever I get back.” Fluttershy smiled and perked up a little bit, as if her fear of dragons did not completely paralyze her for the moment.
“Oh!” burst Pinkie Pie as she hugged him, “I can’t wait for you to get back! You’ll have such. A. Party. Waiting, just for you! It’ll be great! There’ll be balloons, cake, gems, Applejack—”
The pink party pony rambled on a near endless list of favours and features that will comprise the long expected party, but everypony stopped paying attention to her when Rainbow Dash spoke over her, “Stay cool, Spike. I know I don’t say that enough, I didn’t know you had such badflank parents!” Dadaelus visibly smiled at the unexpected compliment as Dash continued, “But I wish you the best in your journey and I can’t wait for you to get back… though not nearly as bad as some ponies I know.” She winked and snickered as Spike’s cheeks flushed red.
Twilight Sparkle hugged her little brother the tightest. “I thought I was going to lose you forever when I first brought you to the Citadel,” she said. “But even then, I knew you’d return, even for just a little while.” She rested her head upon his, “But now I can see that you will be leaving of your own free will and I cannot imagine for how long, just take care of yourself and know that you will always have a home in Ponyville.” Her tears ran freely down her cheeks and fell upon Spike’s shoulder.
It was then that Celestia and Luna stood and walked forward. They were greeted by a nod from the dragon pair and by respectful bows from the Elements. Celestia approached Spike and lowered her head for him to embrace. With hushed sorrow, she said, “Be well, my little dragon. I will see you return soon, when you are ready to be seen by pony eyes once more.”
Luna simply nodded in Spike’s direction, offering a little knowing smile, which he gladly returned.
“Are we prepared to depart, Severezhad?” asked a gentle Nalthanida.
Spike returned his attention to Applejack, who nuzzled him and kissed his forehead. “I will wait for you,” she whispered.
“I can’t ask that of you,” he whispered back.
“Then you’d better believe it, loverboy.” She kissed him once more and winked, though her sadness did not leave her shamrock eyes.
“Come, Severezhad.” Dadaelus extended his claw and Spike hopped onto it, glancing back hesitantly. His eyes never left Applejack’s as he steadily rose to the level of his father’s back.
Goodbye , he mouthed to her.
I love you , she mouthed back.
Before he could respond, a great gust from Dadaelus’ mighty wings propelled them skyward. Applejack became an ever-shrinking image to his watering eyes. As she disappeared from view, Spike turned to face the blue horizon. When he did, he caught the eye of his mother, flying swiftly next to him. She simply stared, a grateful smile and boundless joy in her draconian eyes. She was happy, genuinely and that caused Spike to smile back. Again, he turned to the horizon, toward his future and wondered what it held.
A certain orange earth pony was never far from him mind.
Fall Weather is come, harvest long gathered.
Winter Begun, cold nights pervaded.
Spring Arrived, new cycle started.
Summer Settled, harvest renewed.
One year passes…
Of trees, their leaves withered – Autumn sees their downfall.
Of skies, their gloom gathered – Winter snows covered.
Of streams, their flow unhampered – Spring ice has melted.
Of fields green growing – Summer warmth showered.
One year passes…
Apple orchard nears its harvesting end. Winter is coming.
Apple orchard readies its work. Spring is coming.
Apple orchard in full swing. Summer is coming.
Apple orchard in prosperity. Fall is coming.
One year passes…
Applejack bucks the final branches, apples gathered, Fall harvest completed.
Applejack stokes the fire place as Apple Bloom silently reads amid its glow, Winter rest.
Applejack ploughs the snow form her fields and plants tiny seeds, Spring arrives.
Applejack watches the rain falling from her bedroom window, Summer showers begin.
Summer nights had never been so lonely for the orange farm mare. Applejack waved goodbye to her friends as they finished cleaning up after the party. It was a good party with music, food fights, dancing, and laughter all around. But, like all great things, it had to end.
The moon highlighted the sheen of her apple orchards, a long familiar sight. Applejack appreciated their reflection, as if they were thousands of little candles to light her path home. Usually, Big Mac would walk home with her, but his recent injury saw to his early retirement for the night. The doctor had said that it would take another six weeks until the inflammation in his leg permitted him to buck to full capacity once more. Every night since, Applejack finished her work late and walked home under the watchful gaze of the moon, be there wind, rain or midsummer heat. Every night she would stop at one particular spot and stare at the lonely hill, shaded by a single apple tree. It was that spot where she and her long-gone dragon had sat, spoken, laughed, learned and eventually fell for each other. For several moments, she would simply sit and stare, lost amid her own memories, brief as they were. Brief, but joyful.
Three years ago, he had asked her, before his departure, never to wait for him. Many suitors had come; all had gone, failed in their attempts. She tried to love again, to fulfill his request, though with each passing year, her resolve began to waver.
She found that she could not love and she did not bother to seek it. Applejack took a quiet comfort in knowing that she was never able to acquiesce to his request.
That was when something about her favourite hilltop caught her eye. It was unusual, strange, foreign. An odd silhouette against the night sky stirred something inside her. At first, it was confusion. And then it shifted against the lonely tree and that stirring turned into outright alarm. She held her tongue and decided, against her better judgment, to investigate.
Whatever it was, it was no pony. Considerably larger than a stallion, even Big MacIntosh himself, it appeared to be sitting against the lonely apple tree, its back seemingly to her. It was then that she noticed its back was shimmering against the moonlight, a pale, beautiful purple sheen. Scales, interlinked and impenetrable. Along the centre of the creature’s back was a row of sharp emerald spines that grated against the tree bark. Applejack listened and could hear a deep and steady breathing; a low rumble punctuated each breath.
‘It’, she reasoned, was a ‘he’.
“Hello, AJ.”
The voice was deep, almost calming rhythmic. The farm mare’s heart nearly stopped at the familiar, friendly tone. He turned to face her and she nearly collapsed.
“S-Spike?” she breathed and stammered. Tears threatened to obscure her vision.
He chuckled an answer. It was Spike and he had grown. Applejack simply stared at his larger frame that easily stood taller than her, even Big Mac, as she confirmed. His body was long, slender and detailed with years of growth, struggle, strife and conquest as indicated by the underlying sinew and muscle. His snout had elongated, his teeth were plenty and sharp as razors. His jaw was squared and set and his scales were brilliant. The only thing that had not changed, Applejack noted as she slowly reached out to stroke his face, were his emerald eyes. They shone still with the wit, charm and love that he had left in her memories when he departed those three years ago.
“Spike…” she breathed once more as she took him into a long awaited embrace. She drew his warmth close to hers, Spike accepted with both arms and unfurled wings that wrapped around them both.
“You finally got your wings,” she stated, drawing back enough to look into his eyes once more.
He smiled and pressed his forehead against hers, saying, “You know that every time a pony dreams, a dragon gets his wings?”
She laughed and said, “That is the most plum-ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I had to think of something clever for my surprise return,” he nuzzled her affectionately.
“Should we tell the others?” she asked, brushing her shout against his.
Spike appeared to seriously consider the suggestion and teased Applejack with a deep chuckle. “I say let ‘em sleep.” He slowly closed the distance between their lips.
“Whoa-ho, there, loverboy,” she smiled at the corniness of it all as she put forth no resistance.
As the night deepened in humble Ponyville, a certain pink party pony stirred from her slumber and mentally checked a list of supplies she felt she would need for tomorrow.
Epilogue (Alternate)
//-----------------------------
Twilight Sparkle rose late the next day, true to her new routine established six weeks ago. Her studies had not suffered as a result, though the emptiness of her life seemed forever punctuated by the presence of Spike laying unconscious in his new bed. Today, however, felt unusual. She felt the urge to rummage through her storage closet and retrieve his old basket, if only to look at it. She could not reason as to why she did, she only followed her instinct that eventually led her right to the discarded wicker bed. It was at it always had been: tidy, compact, and adorable.
Why had she decided that today of all days was perfect for lingering nostalgia was unclear, the answer fleeting away before her reason could capture it.
Then, a loud knock on the door snapped Twilight out of her stupor.
“Visitors? Already?” Twilight tilted her head and opened the door with a friendly greeting smile upon her tired visage.
That smile turned into blank stare, which twisted into an abrupt frown of familiarity and concentration.
“A very odd way to greet library-goers, Twi.” A hearty laugh accompanied the deep, smooth voice that flowed from the tall purple creature that sat in front of her. The being was built as a strong stallion, at least a hoof or two above Big MacIntosh and he—she was sure it was a he with a silky voice like that— seemed so startlingly strange, yet familiar to her. it was the unchanged emerald eyes that jogged her memories. The answer to Twilight’s fresh batch of questions hung before her, though her rational mind simply concluded that her mental state combated for a response between panic and utter mirth. Only one could win and be elicited from the young unicorn’s expression.
“I think you may have overdone it, sugarcube.”
“Look at her face! Bwa-ha, hah!”
“Guess who’s back! I bet you can’t guess! Oh, if I were you I’d guess anyway because guessing is half the fun and what’s the point of guessing if –”
“Darling, you look absolutely fatigued! Here, let me get my emergency morning kit!”
“Um, I hope Twilight’s going to be okay… she’s stiff as a board.”
Panic had won the duel, though mirth was close behind. As result, Twilight simply collapsed. When she came to, she saw the familiar faces of her best friends and fellow Elements. “Oh, you guys!” she began, “I had the most strange and wonderful dream! Spike was back and all grown up, and very handsome too, I might add, and you were there… and you were there…
“Why am I on the floor?”
Applejack giggled and offered a helping hoof up off the hardwood, “This good dream pretty real t’me, Twilight.”
The unicorn looked over where the orange earth pony was standing and mirth won by a landslide. Before words could even be exchange, she tackled the wall of purple scales and immovable muscle. Still, he received her warmly in a tight embrace.
With tears unleashed, Twilight Sparkle squeezed the past three years out of her little brother.
“Heh, I missed you too, Twi.” Spike gently smiled as she looked up at him with large glinting eyes and a sniffled snout.
Then, without warning, she stepped back and delivered a single, unexpected and ultimately ineffective punch to his arm. “Three years with no letters, no note, no Celestia-damned postcards!”
“Twi…” Spike raised his claws defensively.
“No arrow scrolls!”
“Twi.”
“No rocks with tribal inscriptions!”
“Seriously? If you let me-”
“No crop circles!”
“Twi!”
“Absolutely no correspondence whatsoever!”
Spike did the only thing he could think of then, and that was to envelope his sister into another hug, hopefully muffling her outrage so he could speak. It worked and she calmed down.
“Twilight, there was no parchment for me to write on. The Dragonlands are somewhat uncivilized, so to speak. The other options you shouted were… also nonexistent.”
Twilight loosened herself from Spike’s grip and looked at him with leveled eyes. She spoke, saying, “But how can you record your time and experiences? I want to be able to hear and read them all, since we have so much to catch up on.”
“All in here, Twi.” Spike tapped a claw against his forehead. “I just need some time and a lot of scrolls, although. -”
“Good!” beamed Twilight, excited at the prospect of studying with her number-one assistant once more. “I have more than enough spares over here, although I need to double-check the ink wells, which is something I should have triple-checked on the double-checked check list.”
As her friends watched the ridiculousness unfold before them, Spike and Applejack tried to get their unicorn friend’s attention, but to no avail. Or so it was until Rarity tapped Twilight on the shoulder, “Twilight, dear, please listen carefully, because I know you’re excited and all; believe me, we are too – but there are more pressing matters that require –”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake: THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED!” Rainbow Dash hung in the air above Twilight.
The studious mare’s ears perked and she glanced up toward the cyan pegasus, “Who is getting married?” Twilight glanced from Rainbow Dash to Fluttershy to a widely grinning Pinkie Pie to an unimpressed Rarity, all of whom pointed a hoof in one direction.
Spike stood tall and proud as a smile snaked across his face. Applejack flushed an apple red hue and nuzzled her head against Spike’s shoulder. Twilight did not notice at first, but upon her left hoof sat a perfectly fitted gold and diamond-set band, light refracting elegantly along the surface. What dragons lack in formal writing skills and materials, they made up for in beautiful treasures that adorned their hoards.
“Oh,” Twilight felt faint once more, but was held up by an enthusiastic Rainbow Dash. They shared a laugh as the unicorn righted herself and dove into Applejack’s arms with gleeful facilitations. She gave Spike another strike to the arm for leaving her as the last pony to be informed of the proposal.
“Does this mean that Pinkie has already planned –”
“A party!” the pink pony interrupted with wide blue eyes, “Duh!” Bouncing in Pinkie Pie fashion, she led the congregation toward Sweet Apple Acres where the Apple Family barn had been painstakingly prepared for yet another prestigious Pinkie Pie party.
The Library had been closed and sealed for the day and no pony could enter through conventional means. The doors were locked and the windows shut, save for a lofty skylight left purposely ajar. This entrance served as the conduit for a certain brown-feathered owl of uncanny intelligence and of whom held special value to the librarian he belonged to. Of his many tasks, the owl served as a part time letter retriever for all regular postage that had not arrived via Spike’s magical flame.
Of late, the dragon’s duties had been transferred wholesale to the clever owl, who flew with timely dedication.
On this special day, the owl had but a single roll of parchment, modestly sealed and plainly inscribed.
It read:
Dear Twilight Sparkle,
It feels strange, writing to you for the first time in the many years that we have known one another. But, I assure you that I write with purpose and sincerity!
Her Royal Majesties, Princesses Celestia and Luna have encouraged me to look proudly back upon my years of servitude as well as to officially store my armour. It is then, with great hesitation, that I announce my retirement from the ranks of the Honour Guard and my resignation from the post of Officer Commanding.
I feel that it is only appropriate that I write to you and your family that I have officially handed my office over to none other than your honourable brother, Shining Armour. He is a very capable stallion who commanded a forward position at the Citadel’s battlements and would have been the first to repel the dragon invaders had they the audacity to strike. He is a safe choice for my replacement, whole-heartedly endorsed by the Regents themselves, peace be upon them.
As mentioned above, I have chosen to write both you and your parents of these events. To your most noble family, I end their letter here.
To you, Miss Sparkle, I extend a less formal epistle:
It appears that my sacred trust exists only on parchment and upon the words of silver tongues. The vow of my life for the protection of the Dual Thrones is now moot and I cannot look back on my years with pride when my remaining years forward have seen the failure of my integrity, the discarding of my vows.
Yet, I obey my Princesses, for their words are Law. Like my armour, I am to be stored away in a keep of my choosing to live the last of my days in quiet sanctuary. My life upon the edge of a spear would seem a fitting end to the days and service of Captain Clegmane!
Alas, I am no longer Captain, but simply: Clegmane.
The hall that I have chosen as my last is the empty estate of my late wife’s family. Long since abandoned for the lofty heights of Canterlot, it is the site of my marriage and the last resting place of my beloved Vidalia.
The estate is called Oignon Downs and it rests upon the hilltop overlooking the town of Seasaddle, nestled Northeast of Canterlot, along the coast of the Pintocific Ocean.
It is a cozy little village - a radical change from the bustling Citadel! I may run for mayor, should I be so fortunate. Although, I am blessed with enough spare time to actually pursue one final campaign….
If you should so desire to pay a visit to a grizzled warhorse, I shall be there spending my days occupied with the restoration of these old Oignon halls.
I shall not return to Canterlot for any reason, lest my Princesses summon me, but I welcome a familiar face to help pass my many long hours. I can predict that no excitement shall match the threat of a pending dragon invasion, but I already crave a changing of pace.
Will you grant this discarded warhorse at least a single visit, perchance, before the winter settles?
If you are unable, I understand completely. I would rather suffer the Night Watch than suffer to demand of you something that you do not wish. Be warned that I am used to entertaining the polish of my armour or a nigh-bottomless list of duties, not esteemed colleagues or… old friends. Please forgive my forward nature, for it has been all too long since I’ve written so informally.
I look forward to hearing from you, Twilight.
With best wishes and affection,
-Clegmane, Captain (ret’d).
Until we meet again.
And So The Story Continues...
This is not the end.
This is not even the beginning of the end, but rather, the end of the beginning.
This is not the end, for the story continues in: Dutifully Yours
Many things will end in this story, but not the story itself.
Not yet.
Happy readings!
-J.S.
