Princesses weren’t supposed to moonlight as thieves, but as far as Twilight Sparkle was concerned, she was less a thief, more a liberator. A liberator of stolen properties.
It didn’t matter so much how long ago they’d been stolen or why, or whether it was part of some spoils of an age-old conflict. If it had been stolen before, she was the mare to get it back. And get it back she would, regardless of what far off, exotic land she had to travel to find it.
But as she crept her way through this old, dark, damp cave, deep in the Solitary Mountain, Twilight was starting to heavily reconsider her sales pitch. And, well, the fact that she came clean with her fellow princesses about her late night hobbies.
Why hadn’t she just said she was a dancer in one of those naughty clubs? At least Cadence wouldn’t have been so scandalized. Shining, maybe, but he still couldn’t fathom his baby sister knowing what sex meant.
At very least she could’ve avoided taking assignment job on top of her own and that friendship quest business, or at least not such dangerous ones as this. What in the name of sanity had Celestia been thinking?
“I have one last job for you, Twilight,” she hissed shakily, as she glanced over the edge of the parapet to see a near endless chasm below, a nice, ominous mist obscuring the bottom so she couldn’t see what awaited. “One more, and then all accounts are squared, my dear wayward student. It will be long and arduous, but I have faith in you.” Snorting, she turned away and began slinking down the crumbling bridge toward an open archway. “My deliciously toned flanks you do!”
Her heart hammered in her chest like it was trying to escape—and if it was, she couldn’t blame it! Though, if it could be so kind as to stop stifling her lungs and strangling her windpipe, Twilight would be much appreciative. She’d even help it find the way out of this old Diamond Dog fortress.
Out of the legendary Erebark, deep in the mountains, where the Diamond Dog kings once sat upon their thrones of gold and gems and iron. But the days of the Kings Under the Mountain in Erebark had long passed, even for Princess Celestia’s long memory. All thanks to her.
Hadkhûna. The beautiful she-dragon who razed nations and terrorized the western lands in her pursuit of gold, gems, and trinkets before finding the grand trove in Erebark and claiming it as her own.
Twilight peered around the corner, her eyes flitting this way and that to check and see if the beast might be lurking nearby.
Of course not. The legendary dragon who took Erebark and unseated the King Under the Mountain would be far too grand to stand within them. The corridors were long empty, save for the dust which she could only hope wasn’t what was left of some unfortunate soul who couldn’t escape dragon fire. But, no dragon, at least. No sign of hide, head, scale, or tail since she slipped through that secret entrance and checked the famed grand hallway and forges.
Which left the Great Hall, where those Diamond Dogs told her in song and rhyme that their forefathers kept their gold. Right before she stole the scripts and found the secrets to open the path when the sun shone down on Rover’s Day.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, willing her heart to return to its original place in her chest. It hadn’t managed to hammer its way free, so it would just have to come along for the ride. Along with her deliciously toned flanks.
It wasn’t like Hadkhûna would discriminate about which parts of her she roasted or ate anyway.
With that delightfully morbid thought fresh in mind, Twilight trotted into the corridor and centered herself, channeling a bit of magic into her horn. A small spell was fine, anything bigger would no doubt rouse the great terror of the skies. The young Princess of Thieves took a deep breath and whispered, “Find me, Platinum’s Crown.”
A tiny bolt of raspberry floated forth from her horn and lazily drifted down the corridor to her left. Licking her lips, dried by the stale, cold air, Twilight followed along, nearly walking on the tips of her hooves. Her tail flicked as though to tuck between her legs, but she managed to beat back the urge. Up ahead, passed the glowing little magic sprite she’d conjured, through the wide, gaping archway—what was left of it, anyway, most had been either knocked down by the legendary dragon or time’s decay—and mist, was a large stone pillar.
And the faintest glitter of gold.
Twilight’s breath caught in her throat, her ears slowly stood straight and tail swished merrily. The thrill of the proverbial hunt flooded her breast. This was it! This was what kept her hooves moving despite the danger in every job, her heart beating through those dull, dreary court sessions! That shimmering glint off some trinket, the feel of history’s weight in her very hooves as she slipped it into her bags! All she had to do was make it in and out without awaking Hadkhûna, then run like the dickens back to Equestria.
Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy.
As she neared the end of the corridor, Twilight cancelled her spell. There was little sense in wasting energy, especially if she might need it to escape an angry dragon—Celestia forbid. Carefully, she peered around the edge of the wall, her eyes scanning through the mist to check for any sign of opulent white scales or regal purple fins.
Her jaw promptly dropped and wings unfurled. A bright, unabashed grin spread across her features.
The legends of Erebark were wrong. There was no mere treasure here.
This was a veritable sea of riches. Gold, silver, glittering gemstones, tapestries, statues, ironworks the likes of which the world hadn’t seen since the halcyon days of Erebark’s fallen empire, all worth more than could be counted even during its day! Why, with this, she could fund her own kingdom if she wanted! Better, she could slowly trickle it into education back home, or fund her own school to rival Celestia’s! Or more expansive libraries everywhere!
Twilight clenched her eyes shut and slapped herself across the face. “No! No! Focus!” she scolded herself quietly. “Going straight after this job! Get the stupidly valuable crown, get out without becoming mare flambé, get home, and get everything squared away with Celestia and Luna!”
She repeated this mantra a few times under her breath, adding in a smack or two when a “yes, but” slipped in to work its insidious spell. Once she was certain she’d beaten the urge back, she gave a little nod, then hopped down the steps, flapping her wings twice to lighten her landing on the stone floor below.
A few stray gold coins littered the ground here, there, and yon. Twilight looked out over the vast sea of treasure, restraining a low whistle as she took in the sheer volume. Why, there were mountains of it! Dips and valleys, like the raging sea in the midst of a hurricane! All the property of the mighty she-dragon slumbering somewhere in the shadows.
Hopefully, Hadkhûna was in the midst of one of those hundred-year hibernations. Still, she would have to take the time to actually search for Platinum’s Crown. The “Find Me Lost Item” spell was simple and small enough to go unnoticed by most creatures with a sense for magic, but anything more would cause problems. Even this might if she came too close.
“I’ll just use it to guide me to the general area,” she murmured, summoning her magic. “Once I get to the deeper parts, I’ll cut it and wade in myself. Simple enough.”
Again, the little sprite construct floated forth and lazily guided her toward the center of the vast sea of riches, deep into the chamber. Twilight ruffled her wings, climbing the stairs and stepping over a few stray plates and sacks of gems.
Farther and farther she climbed, that little sprite guiding her toward the deepest, tallest mound of glittering gold and jewels. As her hooves came to the edge of what must have been the hundredth stair, where stone floor seemed to end and the sea or riches began, Twilight cut her spell. With a deep breath, and a quick look around, she waded in and began her search. Celestia willing, she’d find the crown quickly and be out before it could be missed.
Her hoof sunk deep into a mound of gold, drawing a wince and a stifled curse. Twilight had to withhold the urge to just jerk it out for what seemed like the millionth time, lest she somehow disturb the treasure and send it all clattering about and alert Hadkhûna to her presence. Holding her breath, she let her eyes flit about like a squirrel scanning for predators while venturing into the opening.
Nothing but the silent, glittering treasure met her gaze.
Perfect. She quite hoped to keep it that way.
Releasing her breath in a quiet sigh, Twilight caught her tongue between her teeth and began to work her leg free. Her ears pinning as she felt the coins and gemstones around her shift and begin to slide and roll back toward the ground floor. She sent every prayer, every plea, every promise that this was most definitely her last job to the spirits of the Founders Six, hoping against hope that they would listen and grant her some small measure of mercy. The crown was one of theirs, after all.
Her hoof came free. Within seconds, the bits of treasure came to a rest.
Perhaps the Founders were listening and looking after her after all.
That happy, fanciful thought brought a smile to her face and chased away some small measure of her nerves. Everything is just fine, she told herself, looking up ahead at a large stone pillar. A good marking point for where her search could begin and return.
Fixing her eyes on it, she tracked left a bit, then began to wade deeper, ever deeper. Her gaze swept over every coin, every glittering gem in search of a hint of that crown. But it was nowhere to be seen.
However, there was one thing that did catch her eye and trap them in its siren call.
A splendorous necklace with what looked to be eagle’s wings and a roaring lion’s head pendant, a trinket of the ancient Neigh Valley from sometime in the age of the Sumareian Empire, if she were to hazard a guess. Quite a pretty little thing …
And it would look quite fetching around her neck at some fancy to-do. Oh, ponies far and wide would see her and just gape! Sunset—ha!—that uptight little nag would stop that self-satisfied crowing about her moonlighting just long enough to stare, jaw hanging as the Princess of Friendship and self-proclaimed Princess of Thieves passed her by, head high, and wings fluffing.
In the back of her mind, Princess Celestia’s voice could be heard scolding her. She wasn’t here to pick up trinkets for herself. Her job was to find Platinum’s Crown, get out, and return it so it could be displayed proudly with the rest Founders’ belongings that remained, nothing more. Those of Cadence, Luna, and even Shining Armor joined the fray.
But there was that little one, the one that always tempted her to go hunting for the next big score. And, oh, how it whispered such sweet things in her ears. All those other trinkets had been sold off anonymously, returned to Equestria to fill its museums and educate future generations—and, yes, to fund her own library. Why not snag one for herself? Just this once.
Twilight licked her lips. It couldn’t hurt. What? Would taking this one extra piece of treasure make Hadkhûna that much angrier? She was already stealing from her, why not go for broke?
She crept closer, her eyes widening with every step. A cheshire cat smile spread across her face. As soon as she was near enough, Twilight reached out and took hold of the necklace, and picked it up.
The instant she did, the motion set off another hissing slide of cascading gold and gems. She winced, pinning her ears and ducking low. The mound of gold off to her left side began to tumble down with it, down the very steps she’d ascended just a few moments prior.
Through the glittering cascade, something smooth and white as eggshell caught her eye. Twilight blinked, tilting her head in wonder as she stayed still and watched. Slowly, more and more of this smooth, white surface was revealed, along with a few rather lovely flecks of sky blue joined in threes here and there. But that surface had an interesting pattern, a crisscross like thing that reminded her vaguely of snake scales.
Wonder died a cold death in the pit of her stomach. Her jaw fell open as purple fins and the crown of the legendary, mighty she-dragon were revealed. One of her eyes, easily the size of Twilight’s own face, as well. Closed in sleep.
But for how long?
Twilight didn’t even dare to breathe. By Celestia’s teats that was a big dragon’s head! Only a third of it! She could have Sunset duplicate her little dragon assistant ten times over and he still wouldn’t cover it!
A sudden gust of wind and shower of coin made her jump and nearly drop her prize. Slowly, Twilight turned, the very tips of her feathers quivering as she took stock of where it had come from—a whole three meters along, were two large holes in the mound of treasure, along with the white rounded tip of the she-dragon’s snout. Her estimate was quite off.
Hadkhûna wouldn’t need to chew in order to devour her. Just tilt her head back ever-so slightly and swallow. It was this realization, more than the actual sight, which galvanized Twilight into action.
Throwing discretion out the window, Twilight bounded back toward the stone pillar, slipping the necklace over her head as she turned and fled, and hid behind it, pressing her back against the wall. Her chest heaved, she gasped desperately for breath. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest again, trying to escape and leave her behind as if to say “see! I knew this would happen!” The young princess bit her lip, glancing to her right as if expecting the great beast to come lumbering around the corner behind her, all the while keeping her ears erect to listen out despite the urge to splay them flat.
For several seconds—agonizingly long—there was silence. Long enough that Twilight dared to close her eyes and release a heavy sigh.
Then came a rumbling cascade like none before. The mound of gold seemed to lurch as the great beast slid forward like a pony pushing against their pillow. Another snorting breath blew coins and gems and trinkets through the air like a whirlwind. The mound began to shift and churn, she was moving. She was rousing.
She was awakening.
Twilight took several big steps to her left, her eyes trained on the waking she-dragon’s form. If she could get far enough before those eyes opened—
Something shifted just to her left. Twilight felt her heart fall into her hind hooves, like it had been thrown from that parapet into the swirling mists. She turned slowly, her blood as cold as ice as she noticed the mound a dozen or so steps off her left shoulder idly moving from side to side, like somepony swishing their tail. Dumbstruck, she glanced between the mounds—first at the one she knew where the head to be, then the sinuously swishing tail.
Oh. Oh by the stars, she never imagined, even in her deepest nightmares after hearing those tales and songs …
That great eyelid fluttered. And with it, Twilight saw her life flash before her eyes.
Quick as a cat, she scampered toward the lower landing, vaulted over it, and landed hard on the stone floor. Then, she ducked low and pressed herself against the ledge. Her entire body shook, her wings unfurled and wrapped around herself, like a pegasus filly trying to hide.
A low, feminine hum echoed through the air like thunder, filling her ears. The sound so much like a mare rising to begin her day rather than a mad beast ready to devour a thief. Then, a deep sniff, and another. A low, rolling growl from deep within the she-dragon’s belly filled the chamber.
I can’t stay here! Thinking quickly, Twilight hid her head beneath her wings and cast a spell. A cold feeling tickled down her head and over her body like a bucket of egg yolks had been poured over her. Slowly, her very hooves and wings before her began to fade away until she could look through them and see the stone floor and glittering coins scattered all around her. Even her ill-gotten prize was hidden from view.
Careful not to make a sound, Twilight rose and turned her head to watch Hadkhûna to see if the great she-dragon would be fooled by her spell work, silently praying once more.
“Well, now, thief,” Hadkhûna purred in a smooth, elegant voice, with just a hint of what could almost pass as a Canterlot accent had Twilight not known better. The great she-dragon rose with deadly muscles tensing, yet with an elegance to the motion. She took a step toward Twilight’s position, crushing a portion of the mound beneath one of her mighty claws. “I smell you! I hear your every breath!”
Twilight dared not take a step. She ducked low and clenched her eyes shut, hoping against hope those keen senses didn’t tell her the exact spot she stood.
The great she-dragon continued forward, each step a steady cadence counting down to her doom. She felt hot breath wash over her body, she bit her lip and pressed herself against the floor as she sensed Hadkhûna’s massive head pass right over her … and continue!
It worked!
Daring to open her eyes, Twilight looked up to find Hadkhûna looking about with piercing, slitted sapphire eyes, peering through the swirling mists. With another sniff, the she-dragon turned back, craning her long, serpentine neck about and leaning toward her again.
“Where are you?” Hadkhûna crooned. “Won’t you come out and play, little one?” Her snout loomed closer, dangerously closer to Twilight’s face. Those sapphire eyes blazed with murderous intent. “Where are you, thief in the shadows?”
Too close! Twilight bolted toward ground level, galloping as fast as her hooves could carry her, kicking up coins and gems without care. Discretion and stealth be damned, there was a gigantic she-dragon on her tail!
And right on her tail Hadkhûna was. The tinkling cascade of treasure came like a roar of constant thunder. A glance over her shoulder found the opulent, white scaled beast cutting through the sea of treasure like a shark through water on a path straight for her, and closing fast. Far faster than Twilight could ever run. Up ahead, just off her right side, was another one of those stone pillars.
It would have to do.
She threw herself to the side just in the nick of time. The great she-dragon went speeding by her, turning about already. There wasn’t a second to waste, and Twilight needed no prompting to dash over to her only haven, skirt around it, and press herself up against the side, gasping for breath.
“Oh, come now, darling,” Hadkhûna rumbled. “Don’t be shy.” A thundering step made Twilight’s heart skip a beat. “Step into the light, let me look at the bold little thing who would dare intrude upon my mountain!” The tip of her snout came around the side of the pillar, with it the rest of her evil head, those eyes still alight. “Oh, and how bold this one is! I smell gold on you, dear little one—my gold! I wonder what it was this brave little thief, scurrying about in my mountain, stole from me. Something pretty, yes? Did it sparkle and call to you as it did me?”
Twilight backpedalled away from the oncoming she-dragon’s head, trying to lose her around the opposite edge of the pillar and slip around behind. But to no avail. Hadkhûna had her scent, she could hear her every breath. The only advantage she had was remaining unseen.
“There’s something else about you,” the she-dragon continued. “A familiar scent I haven’t smelled in quite some time. Pony, if I’m not mistaken. Unicorn? No, not quite. Pegasus, perhaps? Earth pony as well, my! Either you keep diverse company, or you’re a rarity in your own right, dear! If only you and I could dispense with these silly games so we could—”
A loud crash sounded behind her, Twilight felt her rump hit something scaly and made of pure muscle. With a yelp, she lost her focus, her spell sputtered dead and failed.
Hadkhûna let out a low, deadly purr that shook her to her very bone. “—See one another face to face,” she finished with a satisfied smile full of razor sharp teeth. “Hello, darling. Oh, and aren’t you a pretty little thief. Correction! Beautiful, I should say! Forgive me! And with that necklace—oh, fancy that! One of mine!—I would say you look fit to be a queen all your own, no?”
Her belly churned, Twilight tasted bile and the remnants of the sunflowers and eggs she’d dined on that morn. Licking her lips nervously and trying to hide the way her tail tucked between her legs, the young mare decided her best course of action was the one which served her best for half her years.
Lying her flank off.
“I—I did not come to steal from you, O Hadkhûna” she stammered.
“And yet, you wear my necklace, fetching though it is around your neck, dear,” the she-dragon countered almost coyly.
Her forehooves shaking, she held them out in a gesture one part placating, two parts pleading. “It called to me, yes,” Twilight said in a rush. “I just wanted to try it on and see, not take it from your chambers. I merely came here to—to—to—” From the back of her mind, those songs and stories leapt forth. Her salvation, she hoped. “—To gaze upon your splendor,” she settled upon. Seeing a hint of an intrigued glint in Hadkhûna’s eyes, she seized on her lifeline. “I heard all the old songs and stories and I just—well I had to see for myself if you were as great as they spoke! I didn’t believe them!”
A rumble of amusement rolled about within Hadkhûna’s breast. Her lips curved in a wicked grin, she withdrew her head and stepped around the stone pillar, each one made the very chamber shake. Twilight couldn’t help but turn slowly, watching in muted amazement and still-mounting horror as her full form came into view.
Oh, she was magnificent indeed. Eggshell white scales with crystal blue diamonds in triple decorating her enormous body, the glint of gold and gemstones encrusting her underbelly from generations of sleep on her hoard, fins and horned crown of regal purple, and matching mane of immaculate curls which bounced with each step, each turn of her great head and serpentine neck.
“And do you now, little one?” Hadkhûna called, her voice like the crash of thunder. “Do your songs and tales measure up to the might, the majesty of Hadkhûna, Queen Under the Mountain?”
For a moment, Twilight could do little but shake her head dumbly. “Truly,” she muttered once she found her voice again, “the songs and tales fall utterly short of your enormity, might, and wonder, O Hadkhûna the Magnificent.”
That pleased rumble sounded within Hadkhûna’s breast once more. Her eyes seemed to dazzle with delight. “Well, you do have fine manners for a thief, little one. And a healthy appreciation for true beauty, power, and grace. Though, I must confess, I find this conversation …” She settled down on her belly, looming large over Twilight as she rolled a claw through the air as if to snatch the appropriate phrasing from thin air. “Woefully one-sided.”
“O-Oh?” Twilight felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of her neck. “Why ever would you say that?”
“Come now, darling, don’t play coy. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Hadkhûna leaned in closer, transfixing her with a half-lidded gaze so much like the mares in Canterlot. “Here we are, alone, in my mountain, and I’ve awaken to find myself host to quite a beauty of an intruder. An alicorn, no less! Why, I’ve not seen an alicorn since the days my brood and I reigned over the Western Plains—now, they were warriors! Not at all like the pretenders who once dwelled in my mountain!” The she-dragon heaved a wistful sigh. “Oh, those two could battle like no other. And here, I awaken to find another in my midst. An alicorn, the Crown Jewel of the pony races, a rarity worth more than gold, wanders into my mountain to visit me—be still, my beating heart!”
Twilight took a step back. “Uh, well, I’m not that special.”
“Oh, I very much doubt that. Don’t sell yourself short, dear, it’s unbecoming. Now, who are you and where do you come from, might I ask?”
“Um …” She blinked twice. Her mind raced, rallying everything to focus on this new goal of prolonging her life as much as possible. But as she thought, she caught sight of something glinting in the light just out of the corner of her left eye.
There it was. Perfect, unblemished as if it had been carefully polished every day since it went missing a thousand years ago. Its silver body reflecting both Twilight and Hadkhûna, the purple gemstones set into each flare drew her in like a moth to open flame and stole the very breath from her lungs.
It was there, ripe for the taking. All she had to do was keep Hadkhûna talking long enough to sneak her way over.
Twilight turned to aim an innocent smile at the waiting she-dragon. “I came through the forest,” she replied, taking a casual step to her left.
“Through the forest?” Hadkhûna repeated, intrigued.
“The forest’s winding roads and darkness proved an arduous task to navigate, yes.” Another step. “And through forests, across plains, and over mountains, too. My journey to see you has taken me a great distance.”
“Quite so, it seems.” The she-dragon propped her chin on her talons, idly tapping her jaw with a claw. “Go on, then.”
Another step, drifting ever-closer. “Across rivers and lakes, through rapids and over falls, a distance greater than pegasi fly.”
Hadkhûna leaned back, her eyes wide in surprise. “My, my! Quite a journey indeed!” she praised. “And all by your lonesome?”
“Yes. I couldn’t find any companions who shared my curiosity, much to my disappointment.”
“And mine as well.” Humming a low note, Hadkhûna drew in a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes, affording Twilight an instant to scurry a few steps closer to her goal. When she opened them again, an odd smile seemed to play on her lips. She rose, sauntering—as much a dragon could—around one of the stone pillars, her sapphire eyes flitting around and peering through the mist. “Unfortunate, that I am robbed of the chance to meet more of your kind after so long, but you do cut quite a figure all your own, my dear.”
Twilight pretended she didn’t feel just a bit of heat coloring her cheeks. “Er, thank you.” A couple more steps while Hadkhûna’s eyes flitted away again. So close!
“You’re quite welcome. Now, do go on. Introduce yourself.” She paused her walk to fix Twilight with a sidelong look, her smile growing. “You’ve held me in quiet suspense long enough, don’t you think?”
“Of course.” Her hoof brushed against the cool silver. All she needed was an instant to pick it up and cast a quick spell. “I … am She Who Speaks With Wyverns.”
That earned a raised brow. “Temperamental creatures, my cousins.”
“A bit yes. I am Friend of the Forest Dwellers.”
“Ah! And how is my old friend, Olorin? Such an elegant race, mighty warriors as well. And powerful mages in their own right.”
Twilight offered a sheepish grin. “He tried to dissuade me from my journey. I think he was fearful for my safety.”
“Oh? Well, that’s a mite upsetting.” The she-dragon sighed and shook her head. “I guess he hasn’t forgiven me for that little incident in Jannah centuries ago. A pity.” Hadkhûna resumed her walk, glancing down toward the ground level. “He’s quite a lovely buck when the right mood hits him, you know.”
The perfect chance. “Is he?” Quick as a cat, Twilight snatched up the crown and set it atop her head, casting an invisibility spell in the same motion. Success! “Admittedly, I found him a bit too stern for my taste.”
“In fairness, I did say when the right mood hits him, darling.” Hadkhûna turned to look at Twilight once more, still continuing her idle walk. To Twilight’s immense relief, she gave no sign of noticing her trick. “But that’s neither here nor there. Do continue.”
Swallowing, Twilight began working on her next problem. Escape. “I am She Who Walks Unseen.”
Hadkhûna stopped her pacing. “Now, that was quite impressive, I must say. How did you do it?”
“I can’t go telling you all my secrets, now can I?” She forced a laugh.
“Fair, I suppose.” The she-dragon feigned a pout. “But you can’t blame a girl for trying.” With a little shrug, she approached slowly, idly brushing her claws over her treasure, sending a new cascade of glittering gold and gems. “Is there anything else you’d like to claim? Any others you might call friend?”
Twilight took several steps back, her brows furrowing. “Uh, not that I can think of,” she replied. There was something about her tone. A dangerous edge. “I’ve told you all I am and where I’ve come, O Hadkhûna.”
Those sapphire eyes dazzled like stars. “Have you?” Hadkhûna purred, drawing closer to fix her with that half-lidded look again. “And what of your delightful Diamond Dog friends? What of them, darling?”
Her blood ran cold. “I’m … sorry? Diamond Dogs?” She racked her brain. How had Hadkhûna smelled their scent? She hadn’t been in their company in nearly a week and a half! With luck, they were still scouring the Badlands for her!
“Yes, my dear, Diamond Dogs. What of them?” She drew closer, her smile turning vulpine, her lips peeling back to reveal those teeth again. “Did you really think I didn’t smell their filthy, mangy stench on you? Did you really think that I, Hadkhûna, would not know the stench and taste of Diamond Dog? That I would be distracted by a pretty face and flowery words?” In a blur of motion, one of her talons shot forward to snatch Twilight.
“I’m not with—eep!” The princess threw herself to the side, bounding forward and leaping into the air to take flight.
“Did you think I didn’t know this day would come?” Hadkhûna snarled.
A rush of wind met her ears. Twilight glanced back over her shoulder to find the great she-dragon gliding after her. She pumped her wings, faster and faster she flew until she saw a stone structure up ahead. Something to hide under for the moment. A welcome haven she threw herself under, pressing against one of the stone supports further inside.
The stone roof shook, drawing her attention upward. Another shake made her heart drop into her stomach. Hadkhûna was atop the structure.
“Did you really think I didn’t know they would return to take their mountain after I devoured their kin and unseated their precious King Under the Mountain?” she bellowed. “That I would be caught unaware and beaten by such dreadful rabble? I am Hadkhûna, Harbringer of Destruction! The Last of the Great Serpents! I go where I wish and kill as I please! I have done battle with your Eternal Sisters, the greatest warriors of an age long forgotten! My teeth are swords! My claws, spears! My armor, iron! And my breath! Death!”
The sound of a deep inhaling, more akin to a hurricane’s fury than a breath, made Twilight’s ears twitch. She threw herself off the wall with a frantic cry, galloping out the other side of the structure just as she heard the great she-dragon exhale, then the shriek and searing heat of oncoming dragon fire.
Her hind hoof struck a stray stone. Twilight let out a squeak as she tumbled head over tail across the floor, the crown toppled from her head and shimmered back into view, skipping thrice across the stone floor before spinning to a rest between the fallen princess and furious she-dragon.
Hakhhûna’s eyes narrowed, alight with fury. “Well, well, well, what have we here?” she drawled. “What an eye you have, stealing Platinum’s Crown from my trove. It was that which drew the Diamond Dogs to raid the old pony settlements and steal it from that prissy little mare’s head, and that which drew me here. A fetching thing, the crown jewel of my hoard—but I’m afraid it doesn’t quite suit you, my dear.” The scales along her belly, all the way up her neck began to glow a bright orange, like molten lava. “It doesn’t go with that necklace at all, and I think it a bit too gaudy for a beauty like yourself.”
Twilight summoned the crown to her hoof, clutching it tight as she scrambled to a standing position. “This is ours,” she replied. “This crown belongs to Equestria. It was never theirs to take, or yours to keep.”
“That crown has been mine for centuries, little one. The prize of my gallery.” The temperature in the room raised. Steam began to pour from her nostrils. “But I think the bones of an alicorn will soon supplant that. Now tell me, dear, how do you choose to die?” Without waiting for an answer, Hadkhûna lunged, her jaws wide and ready to gobble Twilight whole.
With a shriek, Twilight cast the invisibility spell once more and flung herself to the side, into a forward roll, and straight back to her hooves, scampering toward the corridor she’d entered through.
She missed the chance to savor the stunned confusion that crossed the she-dragon’s face for a second. But she didn’t miss the furious shriek or concussive shockwave rippling through the air as that deadly breath sent dragon fire over the ground she once stood, then a second and third stream arcing through the chamber, the latter right across the path she’d taken.
“Thief! Thief! I will destroy you, filthy thief!” Twilight could hear her drawing in another breath, then the rushing shriek of dragon fire echoed through the corridor, bathing the path before her in an angry orange-red glow.
A look back over her shoulder confirmed her suspicions. A wall of fire raced forward to catch her in its apocalyptic embrace. With a cry, she turned sharp and flung herself through the archway leading out to that old stone bridge she’d crossed before. Stumbling a step, she caught herself on the ledge looking out over the swirling mists below, pausing just a moment to try and catch her breath. This was insane! This entire job was certifiably insane, and she was going to have words with Celestia when she returned to Canterlot!
If she made it out of this mess alive.
A loud crash made her start. Swiveling her ears about, Twilight turned to look at the near wall. Namely, at a crack down the side she was almost certain hadn’t been there before. Another crash made her wince, and the sent the crack gouging farther down the side of the wall, with several others spider webbing outward.
Her jaw dropped. No …
Hadkhûna’s enraged roar shook the cavern. The ancient she-dragon threw herself against the wall again, the stone exploded outward under the sheer force. She came in like a wrecking ball, hurtling into the chamber and landing hard on the ground below, her head still able to tower over the bridge upon which Twilight stood.
Those sapphire eyes found her again. The white hot fury held behind them made Twilight feel as though the she-dragon meant to kill her by gaze alone.
Twilight glanced from her to the far side of the bridge. It was a long shot, but she had to try! It was either that or the balcony high overhead and behind the enraged she-dragon. Not at all a prospect she wanted to try and test. It would have to be the corridor or a teleport spell.
The latter wouldn’t exactly work well unless she took Hadkhûna by surprise.
Pushing off the wall, she made a mad dash for the far side of the bridge, her hooves thundering against the stones. Six meters away! Five! She dared to think she might just manage to duck through the archway and make a getaway through that secret passage.
Then a blur of white came crashing down on the bridge, breaking it clean off, then whipping about to slam into the archway and send it down in a shower of rubble. Twilight came skidding to a stop, her wings flared out wide and flapping twice to stop her from falling off. Before she could even think to turn about, that mighty tail came down again, this time but half a meter to her right. In an instant, Hadkhûna had destroyed the bridge, save for the little square section upon which she stood.
Trapped on a proverbial island, with a mighty, ancient she-dragon approaching leisurely, with a sway in her wide hips and tail and a terrible, wicked grin splitting her snout.
“Oh, how very unfortunate, you were so close to escape, weren’t you? And now, that much closer to residence in my belly, my pretty, flattering mare.” Hadkhûna stopped, looming large over Twilight. Those sapphire eyes shone with glee. “Any last words, my dear, sweet, little darling?” she asked, opening her jaws wide to reveal a mouth full of dripping fangs. With a snarl, she lurched forward, ready to gobble the young princess whole.
Twilight wasn’t quite certain what made her say the words aloud. The teleportation spell leapt to the forefront of her mind, along with something that had been lingering somewhat each time she noticed that piercing gaze upon herself. But how they came together and forced their way through her lips, in hindsight, seemed ridiculous and, frankly, quite nonsensical.
“You have lovely eyes!” Twilight blurted just before she blinked out of existence, her world shifting from that precarious spot on the destroyed bridge to the balcony high overhead even the great she-dragon’s head. Her heart racing, she patted her body, checking to make certain she was still whole, and let out a relieved sigh.
Below, she could see Hadkhûna, still looming over the spot she’d been a mere few seconds prior. Those mighty jaws snapped shut on empty air, her body tense and still. Almost as though she’d been frozen in place.
Curious, Twilight tilted her head and leaned over the balcony’s edge, squinting. There was something off about her posture. Her entire demeanor. Hadkhûna’s eyes were wide once more, her talons slowly coming up to cup her eggshell white cheeks, almost trembling as they did. Only then did she notice the faintest hint of rosy pink beginning to fill the she-dragon’s face. Deepening until a streak of red stood in proud bloom.
She blinked. Was Hadkhûna actually … blushing?
“Oh,” Hadkhûna whispered. “Oh my!”
The young mare let her jaw hang open, a choked gasp sounded in the back of her throat before she could stop herself. She clapped her hooves over her mouth as if to snatch the sound from the air, but too late!
Hadkhûna jolted out of her stupor and turned to face her fully, the blush in her cheeks spreading to reach her neck even as those entrancing sapphire eyes met Twilight’s again. “Oh my,” she repeated in a throaty purr.
Twilight squeaked and bolted through the open door as fast as her hooves could carry her. She had no intention of finding out just what games might await after stunning her so. The chase resumed in earnest.
It never ceased to amuse her so how the smaller creatures cowered before her splendor.
The little stallion had been so sure of himself as he strode into the opulent marble halls of Canterlot Castle, she could almost smell the self-ardor and overconfidence oozing off of him like the slime he no doubt wished to dribble in her love’s court. That is, until those baby blues of his flitted up to meet her.
“Blueblood,” her beloved Twilight said with a sigh that spoke of boredom and frustration. “For the hundredth time, stop cowering and speak up. She’s not going to eat you.”
“But that could change,” Hadkhûna helpfully added, aiming a wide, toothy smile at the quivering noble. “I haven’t tasted pony in several centuries, but my love has strictly forbidden me from breaking my fast. Although, if I find myself continuously displeased with the manner in which she’s addressed, I may find the urge quite irresistible.”
Twilight turned those gorgeous purple eyes upon her, sternly glaring up at her despite the size difference. Yet another thing to love along with her form and brilliant mind. “Hadkhûna isn’t going to eat you,” the mare repeated through gritted teeth.
She could hardly be faulted for giving a rumbling chuckle in reply. Idly drumming a claw on the tile floor, just a couple meters from the stallion’s flank to show off their size and danger. “Yet to be determined.”
Oh, there went the blood from his face! And to think she didn’t believe it possible for him to go any more pale.
Unfortunately, with it, that glare on her love’s beautiful face heated. Hadkhûna suppressed the urge to click her tongue. If Twilight kept furrowing her brows in such a manner, she’d get terrible stress lines. Even a nigh immortal being such as an alicorn was not immune, and a face like hers shouldn’t be marred by such things.
Drastic measures would have to be taken.
A single claw running down her spine, a gentle, teasing caress from the base of her neck to just above her rump served as Hadkhûna’s weapon. Sure enough, Twilight’s breath caught in her throat, her glare faltered as she arched her back, soft, mulberry feathers fluffing, and bit her lip to withhold a needy whimper. Rosy pink filled her cheeks.
Much better.
Turning her gaze upon Blueblood, Hadkhûna fluttered her lashes. “Go on, then,” she commanded. “Speak, so we may finish this and be rid of you.” And return me the chance to tease my love as I please.
He yelped and began stammering something or other about tax codes, percentage being lowered on one bracket and increased on the other, words which meant very little to a she-dragon as ancient as Hadkhûna. She pursed her scaly lips, idly drumming her claws near his flank again while stopping her play with Twilight so she might pay attention at least, and let her mind wander to happier thoughts.
That chase. Oh, what a chase it was. Across the plains, through the skies, over the forest, until she finally plucked her beautiful little lover out of the air and pinned her to the ground beneath her massive talons. The mix of dread in her eyes and flush in her cheeks enough to make any dragon’s heart race, those soft lips quivering as she tried to catch her breath and accepted a terrible fate.
Even months later, Hadkhûna’s cheeks heated at the memory. How she found herself transfixed, besmotten, unable to speak above a tiny whisper, “Tell me more about my eyes.”
Her snout burned at how eagerly she lavished the little mare with affection upon hearing more, and away their strange, sordid romance went on a wild dance that swept them both away into an ocean of bliss. Even as they finally returned to Canterlot to complete her dear Twilight’s last job.
The looks on the Eternal Sister’s faces when she sauntered into town, swaying her hips and lashing her barbed tail, with Twilight seated safe and sound upon her back brought a grin to her face. The way their jaws hit the floor when she suddenly lurched forward, dumped Twilight into her waiting talons, and began licking her face as she squealed and laughed and writhed was simply sublime.
Oh, if I had her during those battles ages ago, I’d have beaten them by shock alone. A dark chuckle rumbled within her breast. The stallion let out a high-pitched squeak and regarded her with eyes as wide as dinner plates. The poor dear looked almost as though he might fall faint!
“Twilight,” one of the room’s other two occupants growled. A mare of sunny yellow coat, and fiery red and yellow mane tapped a hoof against the floor. Sunset Shimmer narrowed her cerulean eyes. “Could we wrap this up? I’d like to have a word. Again.”
“Er, right,” Twilight replied sheepishly, before turning to Blueblood again. “Why don’t you and I meet some other time? We can speak over tea. The two of us.”
His ears perked up. “Yes!” he cried, his eyes flitting to Hadkhûna and back. “That would be most welcome! I’ll just, um, speak with the guards outside, and let them know my schedule is clear! Anytime that works for you!”
“Your Highness,” Hadkhûna supplied for him with a firm tap of her claw. Really. Did this stallion have no sense of good manners?
“Your Highness, yes!” A whimper sounded in the back of his throat. He bowed so quickly he nearly broke his nose on the tile. “I’ll take my leave, Your Highness! Thank you for seeing me today, I look forward to our next meeting, Your Highness!” Blueblood didn’t wait for her reply. He turned and fled from the Throne Room as fast as his hooves could carry him, very nearly clipping his shoulder on the door as he made his exit.
A snort drew their attention to Sunset. “Right, that’s it.” Her nostrils flared. “Twilight. A word, please. Now.”
Cringing, Twilight ducked her head and rose from her throne in a nervous rustling of wings. She cast a mock stern look back at Hadkhûna, mouthing something about getting her in trouble as she followed the irate mare off into a side chamber. No doubt to suffer through another nagging lecture on how unnerved her lover made the nobility.
Another dark chuckle rumbled in her breast. Busybody or not, that Sunset did say the sweetest things. She sighed and rolled onto her side, closing her eyes to enjoy the quiet.
Then the scribe, a little dragon babe barely a twinkle in her eye, coughed into his tiny talon. “Er, Miss Hadkhûna?” he began nervously.
She cracked open an eye and glanced down at him. “Yes, little one?” What was his name again?
“Er, just Spike, ma’am.” He rubbed at one of his lime green fins. “Would it be too much a bother if I asked a couple questions? I was curious about some things.”
“Let it not be said that Hadkhûna is unwilling to educate the young.” Even if these modern dragons are quite far off from the days of the Great Serpents. “Ask away.”
“Thanks.” He craned his neck to look up at her. “Er, it’s not really so much about being a dragon, really. It’s more just curiosity.”
“Perfectly fine, dear.”
Spike nodded to himself, taking in a deep breath. “I was sort of … well, not that I’m complaining because she’s nice, even if she’s a thief, but how did you end up falling in love with Twilight? I mean, she stole from your hoard.” He blinked owlishly at her. “Isn’t that, like, the worst thing somepony could try and do?”
Hadkhûna chuckled. “Why, yes, and I do admit I was quite furious to find her skulking about in my mountain, but I would be remiss if I didn’t also note how beautiful I found her as well. I’d awaken to far less welcome sights, and none said such lovely things.” She shook her head, smiling fondly. “Or used wit rather than brandishing a spear in my face as I breathed fire on them.”
The little wince he gave was a mite disappointing, for a dragon. But he had been raised among ponies, so she let it slide. “So, she said nice things and that worked?”
“Is that so surprising? I may be a mighty she-dragon, dear, but I’m a lady as well. If you can find me a lady who doesn’t like to hear another compliment her, I’ll give you a third of the treasure in Erebark.”
“Uh, then I think we’d better visit Erebark, because I know one who doesn’t.”
That made Hadkhûna turn and raise scaled brow. “And who would that be?”
“Dragon Lord Ember.” The little dragon scuffed a clawed foot along the tile floor, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “I was supposed to help her understand pony culture on her visit, and I blurted out that I thought she was really pretty. She slugged me and told me to stop being stupid.”
Her brow arched higher. A smile threatened to tug at her lips. “How did she react before she hit you, though? Did you notice anything about her face? Her posture?”
Spike took a moment to think, tapping a claw against his chin. “Uh … she made this really funny face where she sucked in her lips, her shoulders got really tense, and then she turned and looked the other way and punched me.”
Ah, to be a young she-dragon with a crush again! “Next time, give her something sparkly when you tell her she’s pretty. Then, when she takes it and punches you and tells you to shut up again, throw something hard at her head and tell her she’s not pretty, she’s beautiful.”
He gaped. “That’ll work?”
Hadkhûna grinned. “If it doesn’t, I’ll make it two-thirds of the treasure. She’ll be eating out of your talons.”
His jade green eyes widened. Spike snatched up his quill and parchment and began noting down everything she said as fast as his little claws could manage, much to her mirth. Oh, she’d forgotten how fun the young dragons could be. At very least, she could teach this one proper manners, if not how to raze a town. Twilight might not like that last bit.
Once he’d finished, Spike looked up at her again. “Er, thanks. So, one other thing though. It’s kinda been nagging me, but it might be silly.”
“Hmm? What’s that?”
“You left your hoard and came to Canterlot for her.” Spike fidgeted in his seat. “Why?”
Why?
Hadkhûna smiled down at him and chuckled. “Oh, honey, that’s not a silly question at all.” She leaned in close so she could meet his eye, resting her chin on a claw. “Dear, I am old, and I will live quite a long time still. In my many centuries, I’ve amassed more gold, more jewels, more pieces of artwork than any dragon before or since has managed. But in all that time, do you know what the one treasure I’ve never possessed is?” At his negative head shake, she continued, “Love, dear. Even among our kind, I have been feared or rendered any I might find worth my while too awestruck to make the move. I left my mountain and treasure for something far more precious to hoard and protect—love.”
“That’s …” Slowly, a smile spread across his face. “That’s really sweet. And deep.” He glanced down at the page and made another note. “So, does that mean your days of torching any who enter Erebark are over?”
“Over? Ha! Heavens no, dear! That mountain and treasure belong to my love and I, and that’s how it shall stand. My reputation will keep intruders away. But if that fails.” Her grin turned wicked. “Then I’ll be happy to remind them of my wrath.”
Author's Note
A silly oneshot inspired by a few pictures of a dragon Rarity snuggling her favorite smol princess and way too much The Hobbit clip viewing, and enabled by a chat server full of purple girlfriends lovers.
If you'll excuse me, I need to hide from Tolkien's zombie before he wrings my neck.
