Oh, this dance. This dance we do.
Already my heart is hammering and my skin is damp. My muscles ache from the constant motion and the air that I snort out of my nostrils feels as hot as steam. I am more than tired and yet I feel more alive than I’ve felt in years.
That’s because Celestia and I are dancing again.
I float in the air and cross my hands behind my head. I close my eyes and can almost hear the music that plays for us—only us. It’s up-tempo and it feels like it’s building up to something big. It grows louder and louder until it’s all that I can hear anymore.
Of course there are lyrics to our song. There are always lyrics.
“You will pay for what you’ve done, Discord!” is an old staple.
Does Celestia even know this is the four hundredth and twelfth time she’s said this while we dance? I won’t bother reminding her. I like hearing it all the same. How do they call it? An oldy but a goodie?
“Stop this foolishness now!” Celestia screams at me, as I snap together another wall of bright pink foam to block the worst of her attacks. “You’ve gone too far this time! Ponies have been injured because of you!”
I guess it’s my turn to add my own lyrics to our song. I ponder only for a moment, before yelling above the wind, “Stop while you’re ahead, Princess! I’d just hate to see you ruin that pretty white coat of yours. Why not send me a strongly worded letter instead?”
Celestia bares her teeth and shoots another beam of light in my direction—something to hold me in place, I have no doubt. I let it graze the tip of my tail as I lazily twirl across the sky. I find it’s best if Celestia actually believes she’s almost gotten rid of me. I may lead this dance of ours, but that’s not something she needs to know.
Oh, this dance. This beautiful dance we do.
How can she not feel it when we dance like this? The drive and energy that spurs us on; the shortness of breath; the sweat on our skin; the galloping beat of our hearts? How can she not understand this delicate dance that makes us follow each other move for move, spin for spin, twirl for twirl? Interlocked and inter-joined until our song comes to a close? Does she not understand that I wouldn’t be dancing at all if it was not for her?
Does she not grasp how much she makes me want to dance alongside her?
Not everyone can see the beauty in our never-ending conflict. Even fewer can see the art in violent clashes that span over thousands of years. Heroes and villains have been building each other up for as long as creatures have roamed the world—giving each other meaning and purpose and reason to exist. Reason to do what they were meant to do and to do so with every fiber of their being.
Those watching might call it only a fight to the bitter end and nothing else. I call it a dance. And as far as I’m concerned, this dance has no end in sight. Not when my partner knows me as well as she does.
Up in the sky, I stretch out on a cloud made out of marshmallows and allow Celestia to bridge the gap between us. Her face is flushed and once more I can hear that music in my ears. It grows much faster than before. Such a steady beat, it has. Such a rhythm that makes one want to get up and move and fight.
With the mere flick of her horn, Celestia disintegrates the cloud below me and I pretend to fall. Celestia takes the opportunity to construct a magic cell of sorts underneath me and I glide around it as easily as a leaf caught in the breeze. Does she really want to end this dance of ours so soon? The song’s only just begun.
I will admit, she does look fatigued. Weary and forlorn. Is our dance not fast enough for her? Is the tango or the two-step not good enough this time?
I snap my claws and the ground below us quakes. A pillar of jagged rock soars into the air, not three feet from where Celestia flies. She dives and spins, swerves around more jagged rock that erupts all around her. Is she starting to feel the rhythm again? Does she remember this old number of ours? We’ve only danced to it one hundred and two times by now.
“Discord!” she calls to me, breathless and angry. “Stop—”
Her last word never leaves her mouth. A pillar of rock sneaks up beneath her and lifts her head in too quick a motion. I hear the snap of her neck as loud as a tree branch under hoof and my stomach grows cold. Full of life only a moment ago, the motionless Celestia careens towards the ground, her outstretched wings rippling around her.
A foot above the ground, I stop her and lay her down.
The cold in my stomach washes away as a ball of heat replaces it. By my sides, my hands clench into fists.
“Why can’t you ever remember your moves!? You know how simple these steps are?” I scream at her—the body that lies perfectly still. “We’ve been dancing forever now! How can you not know what you’re doing by now!?”
My breathing becomes rapid. I run my claws through my mane and find dots dancing in my vision.
“You can’t do this to me!” I shriek. I wait for the echo of my voice, but it never comes. It’s only then that I’m reminded how I stopped time the moment Celestia was knocked out of the sky. Old habits and all. “This is not how it ends between us! How damn anticlimactic! Hit with a rock? This is not how it ends, Celestia! Get up! Get up!”
But she doesn’t. And I truthfully don’t expect her to.
I sit down beside her and use my lion’s paw to move the hair that’s fallen over her face. I always know when she’s really dead when her mane stops rippling like water.
Oh, this dance. This dark dance we do.
“Do you really want this all to end, Celestia?” I ask her tentatively. “For our story to finally come to a close?”
I raise my head and listen to the wind. Our song has stopped; the beat has gone away—the tempo dead. I stare at Celestia again. Her eyes are closed and if I think it enough, I can pretend that she is asleep. And how peaceful she looks. Resting after all this time.
Is this where our dance ends? Must I thank her for the wonderful evening and give her a simple peck on the cheek in return? I must admit, the idea of ending it all is tempting. My feet are sore and my muscles ache—we’ve been dancing far, far longer than most realize. Isn’t it about time I let the band pack it in and head on home? No more music needed for us, I’m afraid.
But am I honestly ready to start dancing alone? Does it not take two to tango?
And is the dance between heroes and villains ever supposed to end?
No, I decide. Celestia can’t leave me like this. I’m not ready to stop this dance or find a new partner. I’ve brought her back fourteen times before, so what’s the harm in one more?
I’m reminded that all I need to do is start our song over again.
“You will pay for what you’ve done, Discord!” Celestia yells at me once more, flying through the air exactly as she had forty-five seconds ago. Maybe this time, I’ll let her lead this dance of ours—set the pace and the tempo just as she would like. I only hope this latest dance lasts longer than the previous one.
Oh, this dance. This never-ending dance we do.
I think Celestia and I will be dancing like this for a very, very long time indeed.
Author's Note
If you've read more than one of my stories, you can probably tell I like villains, as well as the relationship between heroes and villains. In the first chapter of "Regarding Falling Villains", Sombra comments that Celestia is ruining the dance between them by trying to reform him and that the fight between them is completely natural. I guess I took that and ran with it for this story.
Comic books probably nail the relationship between heroes and villains best. Every issue you read, you most likely know in the back of your head that neither the recurring villain or the hero is actually going to die, but you enjoy their conflicts regardless. (Unless the publisher needs to drum up business, so they kill off another Robin or something.)
Lastly, the idea that Discord has brought back Celestia several times already to keep fighting him is wonderfully horrific to me. 
