I Wrote This at Five in the Morning. Can You Tell?
It's Not like I Love Spike or Something
B_25
“I'm gonna become a dragon you can fall in love with.”
The words made my heart beat faster in my chest every time I thought of them, every time I played his voice in my head or thought of the face he held, the expression he wore, how direct his gaze was on me, or how softly his eyes glowed in their innocent determination.
And it made me mad. It filled me with a rage far hotter than anything I'd ever felt toward my father. Toward any other dragon. Those words sparked a roaring, all-consuming flame in my mind and an indescribable feeling in my heart, yet the two were at eternal odds with each other.
“I can't make you wait for me,” Spike said as he stood outside the cave. “All I can ask is that you wait. Rarity couldn't, and I... don't blame her for it.” He turned around. “If you haven't found someone by the time I've grown up... I'll be the who and what you need me to be.”
What kind of dragon says something like that? I laid back on my rock bed, head propped on a 'pillow' as I stared up at the ceiling. It was also made of rock. There were a lot of rocks in my room. Why was I focusing on rocks so much?
I shook my head. I couldn't sleep. The memory struck at times like these. It'd been years. We never talked about it again. I didn't think much about it at the time, but a part of me remembered, keeping it locked up inside of me.
“Ember, are you still awake?”
I sighed. “Do you have to use the bathroom again?”
“Nuh-uh. Already went.”
“Where?”
“Outside,” Spike said, rolling on the floor next to my bed. “You know that I'm not a kid anymore, right?”
“I'm not sure about that one.” I also rolled over on my bed, spotting the longer dragon lying on the floor, dressed in a thin cloth with a bit of fuzz to it. “I've never seen a dragon wear such pathetic clothing before.”
“It's called pajamas,” Spike said with an edge to his voice, “and they're comfy! I bring whatever I want to bed. Why should I care what other dragons think because of that?”
“Because you would have been exposed, ridiculed, killed, and then made an example of years ago.” I shook my head. “The only thing that's changed is the whole killing part. What other dragons think is still important, Spike.”
“Maybe to some,” he said, rolling back onto his back and slipping his claws underneath his head. “Not to me, though.”
“Aren't you tough.”
“I wish.” His softly glowing eyes were set on the ceiling, a quiet determination about them, something that whispered reflection. “I learned long ago that really, all I could be was myself. Still not sure if that's a good or bad thing.”
There was no denying Spike was a pansy. He was smaller than other dragons. His scales were bright instead of dark. His voice sometimes squeaked. Most dragons thought he was female at the first glance.
Everything a dragon was, he was not.
“It sounds like a thing to me.” I continued to look at him, my eyes wandering down his chest. “Dragons don't care about the quality of a thing. Things are... well, things.”
“Then you can blame the pony side of me for that.” He blinked slowly and cutely, something about him I couldn't get enough of. “You must get a lot more done if you don't think of a thing of any more than what it is.”
“That is true,” I replied. “But you taught me something, Spike, all those years ago.” I did my best to smile, but it was far from something I had much experience in. “That there's a difference between worrying about what's good and bad, and struggling to do something that's right as opposed to what's wrong.”
“Yeah.”
We didn't speak much after that. Soon enough, his eyes drifted shut, concealing the glow of his eyes. I was left to stare at his body, relishing in the length of his frame, the thinning of his face, the filling out of his muscles. He was nowhere near the peak of a dragon physique, but he was ascending that mountain.
That night, I did not sleep, staying awake into the day where, against my choice, I was set to have a mate selected for me.
“You ready?”
I giggled. “I should be asking you that.”
“Making faces uglier is my specialty,” he said. “I should know. I've been practicing with my own ever since I was hatched.”
“You are such an idiot.” I came to a stop next to him at the entrance of the cave, readjusting my golden armor and clutching my Bloodstone Sceptre. “Aren't you supposed to be super smart because of Twilight? Whatever happened to you over the years?”
“C'mon!” He threw his claws into the air. “Anyone wandering for a year without books or friends is bound to become rusty.” With a smirk, he gestured down to his body. “And what a payoff! I'm going to kick serious butt with this body.”
“Yeah, your own.” I giggled—twice in the same day... what's wrong with me? “When a dragon lifts your tail and makes you do all the work.” I shook my head, sighing silently. “You don't have to do this, you know. The chances of your winning are...”
“Too big of a number for you to work out?”
“Has Twilight figured out what comes before zero?”
“Words can hurt.”
“You have scales,” I replied. “Use 'em.”
We made our way to the arena in silence. I kept my posture regal and my gaze straight, watching passing dragons nod their heads in respect. Some of their nods went deeper than others, and I felt there gaze travel down my body like they were about to own it.
I glanced back at Spike, who walked with a smile on his face and his claws plastered to the back of his head. Even though I had to keep silent and strong, I couldn't help but give him a talk.
“Shouldn't you be more stressed right now?” I asked him, whispering from beneath my helmet. “There's a chance you may not come out of that arena alive. This is silly. You should get out of here while you still can.”
“I'd never do that to you.”
“I never asked this of you.” I shook my head. “Aren't you scared? Because you don't look it.”
“Here.” Spike turned around, and before I had to the chance to react, he grabbed my claw, letting his trembling talons fit between the gaps of mine, and then, I felt it tremble. “Ask me that question again.”
“Y-You're shaking!” I almost ripped my claw out from his, but for whatever reason, I held it tightly, as if I was trying to keep it still through support. “You know what's going to happen down there! It won't be like how we met.” I closed my eyes. “I won't be able to help you.”
“I couldn't call myself a dragon if I couldn't help my friends.” Spike squeezed my claw in return, and with a blush, I realized I was trembling too. “This is a battle I have to fight alone. No magic. No friends. No backup.” He smiled at me. “If I can't do something like this for a friend, then I'm not worthy to be a friend.”
This time, I laughed. “You... you have some weird standards there, Spike.” Without wanting to, I let go of his claw, feeling his warmth and comfort slip away. “You'll fight to the death for a friend, but wear pajamas to bed?”
He only smiled wider. “It's like I told you: I'm doomed to be myself!”
I took my seat on the throne and watched the battles down below. The arena was sparse, decorated in the rock that made up much of dragon architecture. The pit, where the dragons fought, sat in the middle, surrounded by the columns of stone that made up the stands, filled with spectators.
In one of the stands, a conspicuous rock occupied a seat, though I made no mention of it to my guards. Two brutes stood silently a few feet behind my chair.
“Is your heart beating with love yet?”
I glanced to my right. “What the...”
There was a rock. It had violet eyes. There was a glow, a flash, then nothing of the rock was left, replaced by a familiar face.
“Princess Twilight Sparkle?” I quickly looked at my guards, who were now sleeping soundly in a pile behind me. I looked back at the alicorn. “Were you not down at the stands?”
“That was Rarity,” Twilight replied. “She wants to be close enough to strangle the dragon that chips a scale off Spike.”
“She cannot interfere with the ritual.”
“She won't.” Twilight placed a hoof against her chest. “You have my word on that. We're here simply to watch our friend in the hopes he doesn't die.”
I turned my head away. “I'm sorry he's fighting right now.”
“You're in trouble,” Twilight said with a smile, taking a seat next to my throne. “He would do the same for all of his friends.” She giggled. “Wouldn't be able to talk him out of it even if I tried.” She gazed out to the arena. “So, is all this making your heart pound?”
I stared at her for a long while, expecting her to snort, but finding her words sincere. “It's having the opposite effect,” I muttered. “And I'm worried about it.”
“How come?”
“Dragons are attracted to power,” I said, pointing to the opponents in the bottom left corner where, one dragon was atop the other, beating his face into a cheering crowd. “Fight is the ultimate show of dominance. He who can beat his kind can protect me from all harm. Strength is supposed to be sexy.”
“But bloody scales don't make your cheeks blush?”
“Not... entirely...”
Spike was currently engaged in a fight with two other dragons. One had fired a fist at his face, but Spike stepped to the left, missing the strike by an inch. He grabbed the flying wrist, put his foot on the dragon's foot, and yanked him forward, throwing his head right into the groin of another oncoming dragon. They collided.
Spike cocked an arm back and, with a smirk, knocked the second dragon back a few feet. After taking a moment to breathe, he reached down, grabbed the two dragons by their ankles, and began walking forward, dragging them across the ground, blood splattered across his face, his eyes still glowing despite the distance between us.
And when he threw those two dragons...
“He's doing well,” Twilight murmured. “Can't say I'm happy for that, though.”
“You sure raised a strange dragon.” I continued to watch him fighting below, trying to imagine the same bloodied dragon wearing light blue pajamas and failing. “I expected him to be the first dragon out.”
“He's always full of surprises,” Twilight remarked. “When you announced the ritual a year ago, he really meant what he said.” She glanced over at me, a small smile on her lips. “He might have been weak a year ago, but his word is still as strong.”
“I still don't understand him.” I shook my head. “How could someone so small and sensitive be so...”
“Strong?”
“Y-Yeah.”
“Because he has you.” Twilight gazed down at the battle, at her dragon, covered in blood and fighting for his life. “He's come a long way these past few years. It's because he was small that he worked hard to become big. It's because he's sensitive... that he's fighting so hard for you.”
“And he won't even get anything out of it.”
Twilight looked back at me. “Ember, can I ask you a personal question? Girl to girl?”
My cheeks flared up and I looked away. “It's the l-least I can do.”
“Do you have any feelings toward Spike?” Twilight asked me very plainly. “Because he is fighting for your freedom down there. But I don't think for one second that he wouldn't take honor in being your mate.”
“There's no reason why I should be attracted to Spike,” I said, yet unable to take my eyes off him. “He's expressing his feelings instead resolving a problem right away. Tries to talk himself out of fights instead of throwing the first punch. He really is a disgrace to what it means to be a dragon.”
“I couldn't agree more,” Twilight said as she watched the fight. “I really did raise a horrible dragon.”
“But there is... something endearing about those qualities.” I bit my bottom lip and hoped no one saw it. “There is no reason for my... liking of him. He's a wimp. He's cried in front of me before. He asks me how I am and other things that don't matter... there’s simply no reason why he should be anything more than a friend.”
“And you are right to think like that,” she replied, staring down into the pit. I looked over at Twilight, at how she sat as straight and tall as I did, but unlike me, she had an aura of approachability. “You're almost thinking like a pony in that regard.” She then looked back at me. “But don't dragons forget reasons and simply act on their feelings?”
Only the finalists were still conscious.
They were given breaks. I answered the questions of the crowd, cheered on those who had remained, jeered those who lying on the ground or were carried off away, then slipped away when I could.
I disappeared underneath the arena. There was a small room, filled with water and steam, kept warm by the pocket of lava underneath. I didn't mean to smile or for my heart to flutter when I saw him, but there he was, submerged in the water, head back and eyes clenched shut.
When I got closer, my smile left my face when I saw the water, red, stained with his blood. Glancing down his body, cuts and open wounds leaked out in red mists, and he winced with every other passing second.
“Spike, are you... well?”
His eyes opened. He looked up at me. They were glowing again. His eyes. His expression held pain. Despite the head of the water, he shivered endlessly. And then he chuckled in a way that hurt me to hear. “No, I'm not.”
He then laughed again. “Wish I could tell you otherwise. Y'know, appear strong and all that.” He let his body sink further into the water, the mists of blood expanding. “But I don't want to lie to ya, Ember. Really, I'm not sure if I can win this.”
It wasn't right of me to only pay my respects to him. In truth, I was not supposed to see any of the champions until they had become my mate. But as Twilight suggested, I paid no mind to reason, and instead, acted on my feelings.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“Cheering would be nice, but then you'd get in trouble.” He looked back at me for a second, smiling. “But there's something you could do for me right now. It would help me a lot, but you don't have to do it if you don't want to.”
“What do you need?”
“Do you think... you could take off your helmet?”
I hesitated for a second. Then, bringing my claws to sides of my helmet, I began to lift it off, the air running cool and fresh over my scales once it was off. I set it down next to my feet, finding it hard to look into Spike's glowing eyes. “Does that help at all?”
“It does.” I stole a glance at him just as he lifted a wrist, where a chunk of his meat had been bitten off. “Makes doing this a little easier.”
And then he blew a jet of green flames over it, letting tears run down his eyes, watching as his wounds closed. He kept doing it while I watched. I was helpless to do anything about it. I didn't like feeling helpless.
“How do you do it?”
Spike had finished pressing a burning claw against his abdomen. He gazed at me silently.
“For the longest time, I thought those who withheld their pain was strong.” The words were hard to speak and my voice suddenly started to hurt. “Because they could withstand so much without showing emotion, without showing weakness. But you?”
I came to the side of the pool, lowering myself to my knees, all so I could flick away the tears from his cheek. “Have I told you that I've never seen a dragon cry before? It was like a rumored thing you weren't supposed to do.” Even though there were no tears left to wipe, my claws remained on his face. “But I've seen you cry so many times, over so many things.”
He chuckled. “Way to kick a dragon while he's down.”
I shook my head. “I'm praising you, Spike, for your ability to cry.” I smiled at him while feeling something coming from my own two eyes. “You didn't shed a tear during that battle to keep strong, but once it was over, you came down here to cry.”
Spike looked into my eyes, his gaze almost lost, his mouth slightly open.
“You cry because you care,” I said, feeling something drip from my chin. “For so long, I thought your sensitivity was your greatest weakness, but I didn't realize how strong you had to be to carry that through these lands.”
“Don't feel bad,” he replied, “I get mocked for a dragon crying everywhere I go.”
And then I lost it.
“You don't know how long I've wanted to cry,” I said as I felt my feelings catch with my voice. “So many times and nights where I wanted to stop thinking and start crying. I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I could not cry, even when it came to how my father treated me.”
Something happened that I was not expecting. Spike lifted himself out from the water, threw his arms around me, and held me close to his chest. I could feel the beating of his heart, the strong arms that wrapped around me, and the chin that nuzzled the back of my head.
“Never feel bad about crying,” Spike said. “Being strong all the time is lonely and boring. I don't care what dragons think of me. If I'm not allowed to get excited for when a new comic book comes out, or cry when they kill off a character inside of it for the fifth time, then there's no point to life.”
He pulled me back. Looking down and into my eyes, he used a talon to wipe away my tears. “I'm going to become a dragon you can fall in love with.” He closed his eyes and gave a big smile. “I'll shut these wounds and win those fights like a proper dragon!”
“Are you sure that will work?”
Twilight sat next to my throne again. “It’s a thin wall of magic. To them, you're up here with your guards, advisor, and any other dragon you keep around.”
“That's... good then.”
Two fights were happening at once. Four dragons. Two would win; two would lose. Two would fight; one would win. Out of the four faces below, I recognized two.One made me happy, the other angry. One was Spike, and the other was Firestorm.
“Twilight? May I ask you a question... lord to princess?”
“Of course you can.”
“Do you... think a ruler can be strong... and be able to cry?”
“Of course they can,” Twilight said. “Did you talk to Spike between the matches?”
“I did.” I looked down into my lap. “He was unwell at first. But he was able to... pull through...”
“That makes me glad to hear.” Twilight leaned against my throne. “You love him, don't you?”
“L-Love!” I exclaimed. “I n-never said anything like that! What are you...” Twilight kept staring at me, smiling at me, giving me a look that knew it all. “I... like him... even if I shouldn't. He's sensitive and he's... all so sensitive... and he... he held me so tightly...”
“You better not be stealing him from my kingdom.”
I waved my claws. “I wouldn't dare!”
“Kidding,” Twilight said. “What Spike does is his own choice. I just wish the same was true with you.” She looked down into the battle, rearing her forelegs as Spike got a clean punch against his opponent. “ And if I'm being honest, you two do make a cute couple.”
“T-Twilight!”
“The final match is approaching.” Twilight glanced at me as her horn began to glow. “There's not much time left. You'll have to act on what you truly want, no matter how wrong it seems, or how much trouble you think it will cause. Spike is a disgrace as a dragon, but as a mate, your heart thinks otherwise.”
“Where are you—“
“Decide who you want to be,” Twilight said with a flash of her horn, disappearing, leaving only her faint words, “and decide who you want to be with.”
With a shake of my head, I saw the crowd gazing up at me, waiting. Looking down to the area, I saw only two dragons left standing, both hunched over, panting, barely standing. Spike and Firestorm. The only two left.
It was time to make my entrance.
“The ritual reaches its end!” My wings flared out at my sides. They lifted me into the air, allowing me to glide down the seats, where I then hovered above the two remaining fighters. “The last two fighters stand, as they have throughout time, to attain the dominance over royalty!”
I glanced down at Spike. His mouth was open and he was breathing heavily, a claw holding his elbow against his stomach, one of his eyes closed with a stream of blood coursing over it. The one that was open was a brilliant green, burning instead of glowing.
Without meaning to, I gave him a nod.
Then I glanced at the other dragon. Firestorm towered over Spike. He stood tall with his arms crossed, smirking. He was by far the strongest dragon I'd seen the fights, besides the willpower of Spike, though I didn't know how will would come up against pure strength.
“For the next battle,” I announced to the cheering crowd, “I'll be set between them.”
I met Spike in the springs again.
“I want you to drop the fight.”
I followed him on his way down here. He walked tall and silently, all the way down, without giving so much as a twitch. Alone, he didn't make it to the water before falling forward, gasping and coughing blood.
“...little... late for... that...” Spike's claw slammed and crushed into the ground, trembling as it pushed the rest of his body. “I'm... gonna win... and you're... going to be... free... from this... s-stupid ritual.”
“I don't care about that!” I cried. “Don't you get it? I've never cared about any of this! All this fighting... I've hardly paid any attention to it!” I shook my head, throwing my claw out to my side. “It's been you that I've been worried about this entire time!”
“I... told you...” Spike pushed himself up until he was sitting. Raising his claw, he blew another course of flames onto it, watching the blood give it fuel before slamming it into the gash in his chest. “I'm going to win this thing!”
“And I don't want you to win!” For the first time in my life, meaning to fully do it, I lied to a friend. “Don't you get it? I don't love you!” I felt my eyes sting. “You're not going to become a dragon that I can love, because it's impossible for you.” I smiled at him. “You can't become a true dragon and keep being yourself at the same time.”
Spike watched me the whole time, silently, grunting as he patched his wounds. It killed me. Here he was, on the ground, his long body spanning across it, bleeding everywhere, yet he kept his mouth shut, pressing fire into the places that hurt the most.
And then I did twice of that to his heart.
“Please Spike,” I said, turning around and leaving. “Throw the fight.”
My throne was brought down into the battlefield.
Perched on a stand made of rock, I sat on it, silently, where I watched the last battle take place. I had done my speech, and after that, was made to be silent no matter what had happened next. The two dragons stood tall before each other, despite one only putting on a show.
“Thought I'd have a tougher opponent.” Firestorm cracked his neck left and right, slamming a fist into palm, producing a disgusting sound all around. “Did well to make this far, twerp. Are you prepared to die?”
Spike gave me a glance before staring down his opponent. “Better to die than letting a dragon like you take her.”
“You couldn't satisfy a piece like that.” Firestorm glanced at me. “They need their legs broken to feel a good time. You ever made a girl's legs wide enough that they break?”
“No,” Spike said. “But I now have more respect for your mother. Was your egg as big as you?”
“Words make weaklings.” Firestorm clenched his claws, tilting his head back, roaring toward the sky, shaking the very arena. “We fight!”
Spike closed his eyes and unleashed a roar of the same intensity. My heart dropped hearing it. Not because someone so sensitive could be so strong in their own way, but that my words, though they were lies, went unheeded by him.
“You're not going to touch her,” Spike said as he lifted his fists. “And you're crazy to think otherwise!”
Firestorm roared as he sent his massive arm barrelling downward. It missed Spike's face by an inch, who had stepped to the side, and in that movement, he grabbed the wrist and yanked it down, causing Firestorm to lose his balance, and then he sent his elbow right into his face.
“Pest!” Firestorm roared. He stumbled back a few feet before righting himself, bringing both fists down onto Spike. “Who do you think you are!?” Spike had no chance to duck either left or right, both sides blocked off by the shooting arms. “Nothing! Now die!”
But Spike didn't have to go left or right. Instead, he threw himself forward. Cocking his arm back, he unleashed it at Firestorm's groin. He cried, leaning forward from the impact, right when Spike wrapped an arm around his neck and yanked his head down right into his rising knee.
A sickening crunch resounded throughout the arena.
Then, Firestorm fell onto his back. Spike fell to his side, rolling about, holding his knee to his chest. In his agony, he looked at me, down and helpless, searching for something past my armor. I shook my head, glad no one could see my tears.
“Rise... rise!” Firestorm stepped into my vision, blocking Spike out with his mass, kicking the dragon while he was down. “You think I'm gonna kill a runt like you lying down? Get up!” He kicked Spike again, sending him rolling across the ground until his back slammed into one of the stone pillars set up throughout the arena.
I could see Spike to my left now, lying at the base of the power and coughing blood. He gazed up at Firestorm, who towered over him impassively, and he chuckled at him. “For... such a big guy... you kick... like a little filly...”
Firestorm roared. His right leg swept backward, high into the air, then flew forward. My heart froze. At the same second, Spike rolled right into the kick. It swept above his face as he rolled into the open space underneath, glancing back as the kick cut a quarter way into the stone.
“Spike!” I cried without meaning to. “Get out of there!”
Spike struggled to his feet while the other roared in agony. Firestorm struggled to get his foot out from the stone, leaving him in awkward standing. Without missing a beat, Spike limped over to the pillar and, raising his own leg, stomped his own foot into Firestorm's shin, dislodging him while setting him off balance.
Spike only had a few seconds to act. Firestorm had no choice but to lean forward, and when he did, he had his legs swept out from under him. Spike, with his elbow already above the back of his head, brought it flying down, smacking Firestorm's entire body into the pillar, causing the stone to crack more than halfway as Firestorm bounced off and fell backward.
Spike stood over him for only a second. He limped to the other side of the pillar, and there, he threw his back into it. Again and again. Hearing it crack and crack, until, finally, there was crack worse than the rest, and the pillar toppled over onto the body of Firestorm.
The crowd went silent at the show. All watched the still body of Firestorm, wondering if he had been merely left unconscious. Spike was the first to check on him, looking ready to topple over. He yelped when the stone cracked, and a claw grabbed at his ankle, whipping him into the air.
“Did you think that would work!” He slammed Spike's body into the ground next to him, cracking the surface. Firestorm rolled to the side and returned to his feet, stumbling as he did so. “You've got fight in you! And it will die in you...”
Spike jumped to his feet, coughing blood, and he coughed even more when Firestorm got a direct punch in at his face. Spike stumbled back a few steps, roaring before he charged forward straight into a direct kick on his chest.
“You're no dragon, Spike.” Firestorm walked over to the fallen dragon's body, grinning down at him. “Being with ponies has made you weak. Everything they taught you will kill you here.” Spike kicked a foot at his ankle, sending him falling to his knee. Spike quickly got up on his and delivered a punch to his face.
“Is... that... it?” Firestorm turned his head, pushing back Spike's claw with a slap. “That's the punch that will protect your friend? Weak! Useless!” He slammed his head into Spike's, propelling him back into the ground. “This is the end for you, Spike.”
Firestorm stood and brought his foot over Spike's chest, putting his full weight down on it. I couldn't see through the tears at what happened next, only hear the scream, the crunching of bones, that had made the crowd cheer louder than my sobs.
“Still alive?” I heard Firestorm say with a certain amusement to his voice. “Good. Be helpless and watch me become your new king.” Firestorm turned, his eyes dull and set on me. “Power is king. Anything else is useless.”
Firestorm walked toward me, and my claws clenched at the rests of my throne, for I knew my life was over. Was this how it was meant to be? Finally learning to let myself feel things, only to learn how weak they made me? To be taken by a brute that could very well kill me and take my place?
I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream at all the other dragons here for being sick creatures of a one-track mind. I hated everything. I hated this dragon. I hated Spike. I hated myself. Were dragons not meant to be sensitive? Did we keep strong for good reason?
“Bullshit.”
I gasped—and I wasn't the only one.
Firestorm had stopped his walk of pride. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a claw reaching up out from the indentation made in the ground, watching as it pulled the rest of a dragon out of the earth’s hold. Spike pushed against the rock, stepping onto bloodied feet.
“Power... is... nothing...” Spike stumbled forward, and this time, his eyes didn't glow—they burned, trailing faint green smoke. “...nothing... without reason! You think... my feelings make me weak?” He struggled to make his back straight against the crunching resonating from inside his chest. “That being sensitive made me lose to you? Just where do you think I get my strength?!”
“You're able to stand?” Firestorm turned around to face the approaching Spike. “That won't be the case for long. Weakness doesn't grant strength.”
“Sensitivity ain't a bad thing.” Spike raised his fists. “It's simply a thing.”
Firestorm charged at him. He brought his fist down on Spike, who was too weak to make any sharp movements besides sinking into a step forward and knocking a punch into Firestorm's stomach. Firestorm cried louder anytime before, and Spike's eyes still burned.
While Firestorm was still dazed, Spike knocked two more punches into his chest, one after the other, the snap of each punch audible with power. He cocked his arm all the way back and prepared to unleash it, only for Firestorm to headbutt him into the ground.
But Spike didn't give up. He only charged forward, crying as he pushed back Firestorm's massive body right into the stump of the broken pillar. Firestorm slid onto it, and Spike threw himself onto his chest, pulling his face into the stone while Firestorm's arms grabbed at him.
We all gasped as Firestorm's head was drilled into the stone. But soon, his claw wrapped around Spike's waist, throwing him off to the side. Spike hit the ground and rolled a couple of feet, while Firestorm pulled himself out from the stone.
“You... are... dead...” Firestorm stumbled to his feet but coughed a torrent of blood. “Die... for your... foolishness...”
Spike came up onto one knee, using the fallen quarter of the pillar for support. “...You... first...”
Spike then roared a horrible roar as he gripped the pillar, using whatever strength he had left to swing it right into Firestorm. The stone broke on impact, and the life faded from Firestorm's eyes as he fell flat onto his back.
Spike just kept standing still, in silent victory over his opponent. I felt my breath catch in my throat chest when I finally cried again, and this time, for a much different reason. I was smiling underneath my armor as Spike gazed at me, and he was smiling too, the fire fading from his eyes.
But my smile dropped the moment I heard Firestorm roar.
Spike covered his ears while Firestorm rose to his feet. Without wasting a second, Firestorm went to grab Spike. But Spike cocked his elbow by his waist and, turning around, launched it into Firestorm's jaw, sending him flying into the air before crashing into the ground, and this time, he was down for good.
Spike turned around and faced me again. He didn't say anything, or do anything. I waved at him, getting up from my throne to charge at him, to take him into a hug, to make him my own, my mate. But when I got up from my throne, all he did was stick up his thumb before falling back.
I've never watched someone else sleep before.
“I'm so glad you made it to Canterlot!” Twilight wrapped her hooves around my waist, and even though I blushed, I returned what they called a 'hug'. “I hope the ponies have been welcoming to you here!”
“It's... certainly a change in scenery.” We ended the hug after a few seconds, deciding to walk down the white halls. “I don't think they're used to seeing a dragon around here. You know, one other than... Spike.”
“It'll take some warming up is all.” Twilight smiled up at me. “Without that ritual to get in your way, you can make it easier for dragons to meet ponies and vice versa.” We took a left into a smaller wing of the hall. “The worst is really out of the way.”
“Yeah,” I replied, “except for him.”
We stopped in front of a door, where Twilight came to the side of it, laying a hoof on my claw. “You're free to choose who you want as your mate now, Ember. No dragon won that fight for your heart.” Twilight smiled at me before turning around. “That's what Spike wanted most of all.”
I did my best to smile. “Yeah.”
Twilight only giggled as she left me. Looking at the door, I sighed at how it towered over me, tall and impassive. I laid my claw against it, making it into a fist as I leaned against it, trying to gather myself. Then, knowing there was no delaying it, I clicked in the handle of the door, pushing it open.
“Ember!”
I smiled, closing the door behind me. “So you are awake.”
“Oh yeah!” Spike sat up in the hospital bed while his feet dangled off the end. “Feeling crazy good because of it!” He demonstrated by punching the air, letting out a cry quickly afterward. “Or I will be feeling crazy good. They knocked me out long enough.”
I pulled up a chair next to his bed, and from there, we started talking. I don't even remember much of what we even talked about. I was just... happy to talk to him. That he was still here. Still himself. Still wanting to be with me despite all we had gone through.
Which brought me to the topic of something he did best: expressing ourselves.
“Spike, I... want to say sorry to you.”
He tilted his head. “For what?”
“For lying to you,” I said. “When we were in the spring, the things I said...”
“Were untrue?” There was those glow to his eyes, even after having the life drained out from them. “I already figured that stuff out! Heck, I've been a little selfish in that area too.” He scratched at his neck. “Kinda already knew you liked me back a while ago.”
“W-What?!” I shook my head. “I do not like...” I quickly closed my mouth and my eyes. “What... made you think something like that?”
“The way you always check out my butt!”
“I do not check out your butt!”
“Would it help if I said I check out your butt all the time?”
“Spike!”
“You were crying when you said you didn't love me!” Spike laughed some more, and I was tempted to beat him worse than Firestorm had. “Who cries when someone is doing the rejecting? I only fought so hard because I thought I stood a chance at kissing you.” His bright eyes suddenly went wide. “But if you still wanted to go with the relationship being a ruse, I still would have gone through with that, o-of course.”
It took me a few seconds to try and steady my heart, and deciding instead that I liked the feel of it, at how weak yet fulfilled it made me feel, I went to go make the feeling all that stronger. For once in my life, I acted on something that I felt and wanted.
“You were right about one thing,” I said. “I didn't want it to be a ruse, loser.”
Before he could whine, I took his lips against mine, and enjoyed.
