Hearts on the Table

by paperhearts

Rating: teen
Tags: Ember, Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance
Length: 9426

Dragon Lord Ember and Princess Twilight Sparkle fall in love. Stubbornly and messily.

Since the day she ascended, Dragon Lord Ember has strived to move beyond the shadow of her father's rule. She's pursued some strange things to achieve this, perhaps none more strange than forging a close friendship with Twilight Sparkle, now ruler of Equestria. They've exchanged hundreds of letters over the years, growing closer and more familiar to each other with every one.

Ember knows her feelings for Twilight have changed, but the distance between them had provided an easy excuse to ignore them. Had, because with a summit between the Dragon Lands and Equestria starting, Ember and Twilight have the opportunity to once again enjoy each other's company.

And Ember is not the only one trying to come to terms with her feelings.

Ember vector by tyler611

Published 2019-11-07 22:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2019-11-07 22:40:02 UTC

Hearts on the Table

The sun of the Dragon Lands was setting with its usual wounded belligerence. Hunkering down close to the horizon, it stained the world in the colours of its form. The sky undulated with bands of copper and bronze and fire, pressing down on the land between Cinder's Table and the jagged bruises of distant mountains. The shadows of canyons and crags sliced the terrain into pieces, fat wedges of gloom that were fickle and ever changing, ever growing.

Dragon Lord Ember faced down the spectacle with feet planted and arms folded. She narrowed her eyes at the burning orb, challenging it to earn its place in her memory, to defy her and to try and take what it dared. She knew it was a stupid weakness, that it was less of a battle and more a scripted performance, but sometimes she had no choice but to indulge it. She knew that sometimes you had to take the easy wins to build resilience for the tougher ones. And there were undoubtedly tough ones ahead.

Her father would have laughed at her for that no doubt, but Ember didn't mind. Reflection was a deeply strange and unpleasant activity, but if it helped her move beyond the shadow of her father's legacy then it was worth it every time. Well, almost every time.

The sun finally disappeared from sight, and only then, when the blanket of night took up the battle, did she allow herself a satisfied nod of the head. Far below her perch, the strange scene grew in clarity. Open vents and chambers studded the plains encompassing Cinder's Table, the roiling magma inside keeping the darkness at bay and illuminating the festivities taking place around them. Ember turned her gaze to the shapes moving in and around the long slabs of rock serving as tables. Those of her kin were easily distinguishable, sharp and vast and strong. By contrast the ponies looked fragile and uncertain, their bright tones muted. It was hard not to feel pride at that, and Ember didn't try to stop herself.

There were no glittering fountains of magic or boulders being thrown, so she figured everything was still going okay down there. Considering how much of a struggle the day had been, that in itself was another small achievement. Ember snorted out the tension that had been growing within her and watched the charcoal wisps dance away.

As her thoughts snagged on how much was still to be achieved, doubt began to once again press itself between her scales. Ember took it as another sign of personal growth that she didn’t instantly crush the feeling into oblivion, instead choosing to give it a moment’s consideration. Then she crushed it into oblivion.

Who cared whether they thought she was making the right decisions? She thought she was doing fine, and that was all that mattered. She was the Dragon Lord! If the opening day of summit had been marred by a few little misunderstandings then tough, they just had to shut up and deal with it. It wasn’t like her father's diplomatic trips had never ended with delegates being burned or frozen, or with a few bones broken. Why should it be any different under her?

But the doubt was a far more unpredictable opponent than the sun had been, nestling deep and demanding that she did something violent to release it. Ember was still in a mood to be stubborn though, so instead she forced herself to the ground, her legs dangling over the edge of the mesa. One day down, sure, but her father's summits had never ran over that, even when dealing with ponies. Why she had agreed to this one lasting a week was still beyond her, and for a minute Ember debated the idea that she was ceding too much ground to them. Why did ponies need so long to agree a few laws and treaties and diplomatic arrangements anyway? It was almost insulting that they couldn't just take her word for it that the dragons were cool with trade and whatever.

The sound of a throat being deliberately cleared rang out across the warm air. It was followed by a cultured voice that was both familiar and alien.

"Smolder said I'd find you up here. Am I disturbing you?"

Ember looked over her shoulder. Princess Twilight Sparkle was standing a few meters away, framed by the advances of the moon. Silvery light rippled across her frame, giving her wings the appearance of motion even though they were folded against her barrel. Her horn glowed with a dim light of its own, and as Ember's eyes tracked up she saw the bouquet of flowers. She repressed the grimace, though as she rose to her feet she allowed her eyes to show her irritation.

"Twilight! I thought you'd be asleep by now. Got a long week ahead. More talking, somehow."

Twilight's face was a picture of joy of the kind that only ponies could wield. "I know, right? It's so exciting to have finally begun. I've already submitted a revised agenda proposal for tomorrow. Now we'll have another two hours for the discussion of whether the trade agreements will allow for the opening of clothing boutiques and flower stalls," her smile turned predatory, "which I understand was at your request."

"My request was for there to be no clothing whatever-you-call-them," Ember snapped, "and definitely no flowers. There's nothing to discuss, especially for two hours."

Twilight's grin widened. "Oh, my mistake then. But as it happens, the Greater Equestrian Floristry Guild disagrees with you, and they've got the legal right to request we at least bring a proposal to the table. I told them you were an accomodating Dragon Lord though, and that you were absolutely committed to securing an agreement that works for both nations."

Ember folded her arms and glared at Twilight. When that didn't work she roared. Twilight winced at the furious power of it, but it didn't take long for her smile to return. "Speaking of which, I didn't get a chance to bring you these earlier. The Guild sends its compliments."

The bouquet of flowers was suddenly hovering in front of Ember's snout. A terrible aroma assaulted her nostrils and mouth, the itch of pollen snagging deep. Ember gagged, and before she could push the flowers away she was sneezing, thin tongues of flame pressing back the moonlight in quick bursts.

"Lost hoards, are you trying to start a war?" she gasped between sneezes, her eyes watery and sore. Snatching the bouquet, Ember tugged it from Twilight's grasp and launched it over the edge of the mesa. "Oops. I hope they won't be offended."

"Very diplomatic. I can see we've got a lot to learn from you."

Ember balled her hands into fists. "Oh, so you mean it can go both ways? After today I sort of forgot."

They glared at each other. Ember puffed smoke from her nostrils, her tail whipping the hard, rock-strewn ground. Twilight had set her jaw, her wings flared.

Then they both burst out laughing.

"Did I take it too far?" All of a sudden Twilight's voice was warm and accomodating. Her wings dropped to her barrel as she trotted closer. "I was sure I went too far with the flowers."

"Hah, as if!" Ember pointed a finger at Twilight. "You've picked up our ways well, but you've got a lot to learn if you thought that was too far!"

"Duly noted, I'll try harder next time. Oh, Ember, it's so good to see you again." Twilight grabbed Ember in an embrace with a strength that belied her frame. "I mean, properly. Our paths didn't seem to cross much earlier, and, well, I guess writing letters can only do so much."

Ember stiffened, but she was growing somewhat used to the strange obsession ponies had with hugging. "Even when you send one every week?"

Twilight stepped back, and despite the sheen of moonlight on her face Ember could see the pony was blushing. "Not every week," she replied, one hoof tapping a beat against the ground. Her smile turned brittle. "You know how excited I am about dragon culture and history, and I didn't want to miss a chance to learn, well, everything. Why... Is it too much?"

Ember rolled her eyes. "Of course it's too much. You think a Dragon Lord has got time to answer questions every week about the best temperature for a 'nice' lava bath, or to help you write your book on gemstone flavours?"

"Oh... I, um... O—Okay then." Twilight's eyes had grown wide, the colour around her cheeks intensifying. Ember narrowed her eyes at her as she mumbled excuses, looking for all the world like an earthquake that was struggling to get itself going. For a moment the only sound on the mesa was of Twilight's breathing growing erratic.

Then Ember allowed herself a grin. "That was for the flowers."

"What? What!? But... But that was so mea—" Twilight swallowed down the rest of the word, her eyes growing edges again. "You're awful, Ember."

"I told you you've got a lot to learn. I've enjoyed practicing this thing you call 'banter'." Ember grinned, allowing her teeth to show. It hadn't been lost on her how quickly Twilight's dominant and aggresive facade had been shaken by her words though, and she made a mental note to not take it so far again. Twilight was a keen learner of dragon ways and culture, but she was still a pony. Ember's thoughts began to drift towards the reasons why she wanted to avoid seeing that look on Twilight's face again, but she quickly shut them down. It was an irritating subject, and there were already enough irritating subjects to deal with at the moment, most of them caused by Twilight.

"So what do you think?" she said instead, turning to the side and gesturing with a hand to the horizon beyond. "Seeing the world as a Dragon Lord does must feel pretty great, right?"

Twilight approached the edge and gazed down. "Oh, I've been higher than this before. You really should try it sometime."

Ember roared with laughter. "Boasting and throwing down? Nice." She grinned at Twilight and punched her on the shoulder. "You really don't have to try so hard all the time, though. I already think you're alright, Twilight."

Twilight had been staggered by the blow, and her face became the colour of magma under Ember's gaze. Her mane had been pinned up as part of some elaborate display that ponies seemed so fond of, but time and the elements had taken their toll and it had come loose, thick strands falling about her face. There was something about Twilight's apparent lack of concern about it that made her more than alright in Ember's opinion, but if she gave ground then her opposite number would gain it, and Ember was not prepared for that to happen. Not this soon.

She blinked, realising that Twilight was talking.

"—I guess I kind of, well, it's been such fun to really try and embrace aspects of another culture. I've been learning so much about your species and the Dragon Lands, in preparation for this summit but also because of all of your letters. It feels like I've been forced into my own skin so much since the coronation, and sometimes I just want to be..."

Twilight left the sentence hanging in the warm air. After a moment Ember joined her, returning to her perch where the mesa fell away. "So, what, you decided to try on the skin of a dragon? Getting yourself coronated twice is a pretty good start. That's my kind of greed right there, Twilight!"

Twilight laughed. It spilled hesitantly from her mouth but found strength as an echo. Her gaze turned towards the glow of one of the volcanoes in the distance.

"I think it's more like hoping to find yourself through losing yourself, if that makes sense?"

"No, it doesn't."

Twilight blinked at that. "Ah... Well, I'm not sure how much sense it makes to me either to be honest. I think all I've managed to do is the losing part."

Ember shrugged. "Sounds like you want to make it complicated. I just hit things."

Twilight was quiet for a moment, as though deep in thought. Then she started giggling. "Somehow I don't think that would go down well in court."

"Depends on who you hit."

This time Twilight's laugh was more sure of itself. She turned to Ember, and the smile on her lips appeared almost grateful. Ember wasn't sure how she felt about that, so she opted to punch Twilight on the shoulder again instead. Then she turned away before those thoughts could trouble her again.

"The view really is something," Twilight said after a moment. "Is that why you come up here? Smolder said you do it a lot."

"Sort of." The thought of talking about her self-imposed challenge against the sun made Ember feel silly. It was the worst kind of silly too, the kind of silly that made her want to shout and stomp and find some passing caravans to burn down. She drew a leg in, resting an arm across her knee. "I don't come here to admire the world or anything, but Cinder's Table is the best place to watch the Dragon Lands from."

Twilight nodded her understanding. "Because of the height, right?"

"Right, and also what it represents. Look around you—we're in the middle of the Dragon Lands and this rock is the tallest thing here. On it, the Dragon Lord sees all. The Dragon Lord is above all."

Twilight nodded again, her head slowly turning as she took in the view. A frown was beginning to form on her face, and the sight of it brought a sigh to Ember's lips. Once again, a pony was going to make the simplest thing complicated.

"It also feels lonely... Don't you think?"

Ember made sure the sigh had sharp edges.

"It's simple,'" she said, "Dragon Lords stand alone. That's the way it's always been." She tapped the ground beside her. "Besides, it's not lonely. It's more... Isolated, impregnable."

"Well, as tempting as it is to duel synonyms, I guess that's true enough. Unless an invader wanted to go direct of course." Twilight lifted a wing, the feathers ruffling silver and purple.

"But then I'd see you coming."

Twilight fell back into thoughtful silence and in a way Ember was glad. She was used to winning arguments and debates through feats of strength and intimidation, not through verbal sparring. Talking with Twilight was enjoyable, maybe even a little bit exciting, but it always took a lot out of her. Ember didn't like how vulnerable that fact made her feel.

As the seconds turned into minutes, she noticed the way Twilight's body started to relax. Her shoulders had slumped, spilling moonlight down her body, and the tension seemed to drip down and off her feathers one by one. Ember wasn't sure if Twilight was trying to hide it, but she doubted that was the case. Twilight was unlike any pony she had ever met—even going back to when she was a whelp and her father had entertained Princess Whatever-Her-Name-Was. Twilight didn't seem able to hide her feelings, nor did she seem keen to try, and Ember thought that was a strength to be respected.

Now committed, she continued to study Twilight sidelong, her eyes moving first to her legs and then to her face. It was strange how she could look strong and sturdy, and yet still be so obviously delicate and vulnerable. Ember couldn't decide whether Twilight was the type of creature she should be hunting or locking horns with.

"You're staring."

This time it was Ember's turn to feel fire beneath her cheeks. "I am not!" she bellowed. "It was only for a moment!"

Twilight's laugh rang out, and it suddenly felt like she was holding a bunch of flowers in front of Ember's snout again. "Well which is it?"

Ember glared at her, the muscles in her arms and legs twitching against her efforts to keep still.

"I was thinking," she replied, practically shouting the word, "that it's weird."

"I'm going to need something more to work with than that. The only thing that's weird at the moment is you."

"Shut up!" Ember folded her arms. "We dragons... We judge on looks, right?"

If she hadn't been feeling so flustered then Ember would have taken satisfaction from the way Twilight's smug grin fell off her face.

"On looks? W—What does that have to do with me?"

"Ugh, it's about sizing someone up of course!" Ember fiddled with one of her curling horns. "You look at a dragon, or some other beast or whatever, and you can work out how strong they are, how many alliances they claim to be a part of, or to have betrayed. That sort of thing."

"Alliances? How can you tell that just by looking at a dragon—Oh!" Twilight's gaze scooted up and down Ember's body, her expression curious. "You mean by the scars, right?"

Ember grinned at her. "You really have been learning, huh?"

"O—Of course I have!" Twilight's face brightened, so much so that it was in danger of overpowering the moon. "It helps that dragon culture is so... Exotic."

"Riiight..." Ember shook her head, trying to clear from it the memory of Twilight's appraising eyes. "Anyway, it helps us find order. Who a dragon should listen to, who's weak enough for them to boss around, that sort of thing."

"So you were staring at me because you're trying to decide whether you can boss me about?" Almost instantly Twilight straightened her posture, her head lifting regally. She turned to Ember and glared at her, her eyes wavering between indignation and something far less tangible.

Ember resisted the urge to laugh. "Idiot. I meant that this is the first time I've ever sized somebeast up without looking them in the eye."

Twilight continued to glare, though her posture relaxed again.

"You know what I mean." Ember ran a hand through the spines on her head. "We've met a few times since we started writing, but the Twilight I get letters from and the Twilight standing here in front of me feel, uh, different."

Twilight frowned at that. For some reason, her lack of comprehension annoyed Ember. She slapped the ground with her tail. "You know what? Don't worry about it."

She placed her head in her hands and glared at the volcanoes spluttering and raging in the distance. Ember had never thought she'd see the day when she would be jealous of a pile of rock and magma.

It took a few minutes before she noticed that Twilight was still staring at her. Ember huffed, growled and even belched smoke into the night sky, but the pony beside her didn't budge. Eventually Ember turned her head; it was only an inch, maybe not even that, but it still felt like a concession too far.

"What?"

"I imagined you would be different too," Twilight said quietly. The expression on her face had definitely become one of something being hunted. "Physically, I mean. I remembered that part of you differently."

A low growl escaped Ember's throat. She didn't want to think about the reasons why making such a simple point had become so complicated and heavy; it would inevitably lead to thoughts about ponies, and then to thoughts about Twilight.

It was obvious why anyway—how could it not be? But that didn't mean Ember wanted to acknowledge it. There was simply too much at stake. But nor could she ignore the truth of her words, of Twilight's words. Ember could still recall the delicate, angular form of the other princess who had often visited her father when she was a whelp. There had been an obvious potency about her, a power that was worn like a suit of armour. With Twilight though, that power was hidden somewhere within her shorter, stockier frame. It was still there, making itself known through her letters, and there was something about the mystery of it that Ember found enthralling. The mystery of how a royal pony like Twilight could be passionate and argumentative and strong and fun.

Twilight was obviously taking her silence as meaning something else. She had lowered her gaze, her lip held firm between flat white teeth.

Then her ears suddenly pricked up.

"Oh, whilst we're talking about letters, you're overdue!"

Ember looked flatly at her. Then she laughed. It started as a hiss, but within seconds she was roaring, the tension shedding from her scales to be taken somewhere far away by the desert breeze. She could see her relief mirrored in Twilight's features.

"It's funny," Ember said, rubbing her eyes, "when I was a whelp I never thought I'd even speak to a pony, let alone befriend one and write to her every few weeks for—how long has it been now?"

"Three years, eight months and four days."

Ember rolled her eyes. "Not that you're keeping count or anything."

Twilight looked at Ember for a moment, and then pushed her sideways with her hoof.

"We were exchanging myths and legends, remember? It was your turn, so I want to hear one, Dragon Lord!"

Ember looked down at Twilight and gave a toothy smile. It was hard to not be flattered by the request to talk about her culture, and Ember did enjoy being flattered.

"Fine, fine. Let me think a minute." She gazed at the party, as the ponies had kept calling it, down below. It looked as though some of the dragons were explaining how to play Ring of Fire. Ember smiled as flaming circles of all sizes lit up across the ground. Whatever happened down there from here on, the summit would be short of a few delegates tomorrow. She idly wondered how many of those injured would be dragons.

It had also caught Twilight's attention; her wide eyes reflected the combined light of the flames as she watched, rapt.

"You wanna go down and take part?"

A smile crept across Twilight's face so slowly that Ember wondered whether she knew it was happening herself. Then she shook her head.

"If it's all the same with you, I'd rather stay here a while longer. It's nice to be able to talk to you normally. Today has been... Intense."

Ember leaned back onto her elbows, her eyes on Twilight. "You're telling me. Of course, singing songs about unity and 'achieving things together' every few minutes didn't help."

"Neither did the food fight nor the theft of the Royal Canterlot Seal." Twilight turned her head to the side, one eye glaring at Ember. "Sorry, I meant 'prank'. And stop changing the subject. Story. Now."

Ember flashed her teeth at Twilight, but she put no malice into the gesture. "Okay, I've got a good one. Lots of fighting and blood and heartbroken widows. You game?"

Twilight took a breath, then shook her head.

"Actually, I was thinking about it while you were talking. I know which story I want to hear. I want to hear the story of Firestorm."

Ember's eyes went wide. She sat up straight and scowled at Twilight. "Why?"

Twilight's face had lost all trace of humour. Her eyes shimmered with a challenge. "Because it's important to me."

Ember narrowed her eyes at Twilight, but gradually she noticed that something was wrong. For the first time in her adult life, Ember found herself unable to stare somebeast down. She puffed and growled, but she could also feel the panic building inside of her stomach, dousing the flames she wanted to unleash. It shouldn't have surprised her that Twilight had heard about the story, she had already proven in her letters to be a pain in the rear when it came to studying things. But indulging her would be bringing forward a confrontation Ember wanted to avoid.

With a hiss she lowered her eyes, conceding defeat. Not that it really mattered outside of pride; the moment Twilight had said the name Ember knew she'd be telling Firestorm's tale before the moon had set.

Then the questions would start. She knew that, too.

She balled her hands into fists. She couldn't stop it, but she could certainly make Twilight work for it. That she could do.

"Okay, here's the deal." Ember climbed to her feet and stood at the edge of the mesa. Pointing to a tall column of rock several miles away, she glanced over her shoulder. Twilight was watching with a bemused expression.

"That's Little Horn. Beat me there, and you get to pick the story. Otherwise, you shut up and enjoy my choice."

"What?" Twilight blinked, stumbling to her feet. "O—Okay, but what happens if it's a draw—?"

"And go!" Ember roared, and before Twilight had a chance to object further Ember had kicked off from the ground and knifed into the air. The fiery games below blurred into pinpricks of light on the periphery of her vision; Ember beat her wings hard as she took herself beyond them and towards the moon-soaked shape of Little Horn. She knew she didn't need to push herself—it was only a short distance and Twilight was probably still spluttering back on the mesa—but she made her body work for it anyway. She needed to make her body work for the crime of being so weak, because as much as she knew she was flying ever closer to victory, Ember couldn't shake the feeling that she was also running away.

Ember landed on Little Horn with bursting lungs and throbbing muscles. She clung on near to the peak of the arcing column, her claws scrabbling for purchase on the smooth sandstone. Ember grunted as she wedged a leg into a small crevice, and then pushed her body up into the space where it grew wider. Held in place by the embrace of rock, she looked back towards Cinder's Table and waited.

It didn't take long. Twilight flew towards her with a speed that could only have been fuelled by anger. Ember allowed herself a smile at that. Twilight was toying with a dragon, and no beast ever toyed with a dragon and emerged unscathed. It was time she learned that most important of lessons.

"You cheated!" Twilight looked like a wyrm pulled from ancient legend, her eyes blazing and her mane alive in the wind. She hovered near the peak, trying to find purchase on the rock to no avail, before surprising Ember completely and hurling herself against it. Her hooves clacked on the surface, slowing her descent. One of her hind legs scraped against a sharp lip of rock, but though Twilight grunted in pain she fought on, using her forelegs to wrestle herself up and onto a larger lip above Ember's position. Her teeth were clenched, whether from pain or anger Ember couldn't tell, and the muscles across her body were pressing tight against her skin.

Not for the first time, Ember was impressed. Really impressed.

"I can't believe you cheated!" A shadow of disappointment passed across Twilight's face before rebuilding itself as an accusation.

"Of course I did, who did you think you were competing against?" Ember grinned at her.

"I expected better from you."

"You expect too much!" Irritation flared between Ember's scales. "You're forgetting who I am, Twilight. What I am."

"I know who you are." The light in Twilight's eyes dimmed. "And you know who I am. But this is important to me... I told you that. I think it might be important to you as well."

Ember winced at that. She gnashed her teeth at Twilight but panic disarmed the act. Panic, and a certain amount of acceptance. Because Twilight was right, it was important. It had been growing in importance for a while, with every letter she wrote and every letter she yearned for like some silly whelp. And though it risked everything she had worked for, she knew she couldn't avoid it any longer.

More to the point, she knew she shouldn't avoid it. She was the Dragon Lord! She should be facing the challenge head on and fighting until she was victorious.

She gave Twilight one last dirty look and then started to climb out from the crevice. The sandstone was loose around the fault, and once or twice rock crumbled free in her grasp. Twilight watched her, never once offering to help but never looking away either.

Ember dug her claws even deeper into the rock. She really was a strange pony. A strange, fascinating pony.

She reached the lip and hauled herself up onto it, shoving Twilight aside so that there was room for both of them. They glared at each other again before falling into a sullen silence. Ember kicked out her legs over the side of the lip, arms folded. Twilight flicked and whipped her tail against the ground, her narrowed eyes on Cinder's Table in the distance.

When she felt ready to speak, Ember let the silence continue for a few minutes more. It was spiteful and mean, which was reason enough to do it, but as with the sun it was also an easy win.

"Long ago, there was a dragon called Firestorm. He was next in line to be Dragon Lord. And he fell in love with a griffon royal guard." Ember listened to the raspy echo of her voice fade before looking at Twilight. "But then you knew that already."

"I might have read something," Twilight replied, her face neutral.

Ember shrugged. "Well, love got in the way. Firestorm knew he couldn't be distracted from his duties. There was a war between the dragon and griffon kingdoms at the time, and his relationship with the griffon was not tolerated."

"So they ended it?"

"You wanted to hear this, so no cutting to the end!" Ember folded her arms and waited for Twilight to finish sulking. "Firestorm became Dragon Lord. At first he tried for peace with the griffons, but the dragons didn't like that. They had been fighting for too long—they wanted victory, not to cede more ground. So Firestorm relented. He used the things he had learned from his griffon love to help the dragons win the war. She fell in battle." Ember bared her teeth at Twilight, daring her to be offended or saddened.

Twilight did look offended and saddened, but only for a moment. Then she angled her face to the sky.

"I think... I think Firestorm was probably scared. What about you?"

"What I think doesn't matter." Ember spat the words out as she fiddled with one of her horns. "Or what you think. Whether he wanted to be Dragon Lord or not doesn't matter. Firestorm led the dragons to victory, to claim what is now the Dragon Lands. He's a hero. That's the only thing that matters about that story."

She narrowed her eyes at Twilight. She wanted her to back down now that she had heard her dumb story, but Ember was surprised to find she also wanted to be challenged, to be told she was wrong. Panic began to bubble within her chest.

Twilight was chewing her lip, her eyes moving between Ember and the ground beneath her hooves. When it seemed as though no response was going to come Ember snorted, disappointed.

Then Twilight leaned into her.

It was a small, probing movement—Ember could tell straight away that it wasn't Twilight's full weight pressing against her side—but that didn't stop her body from turning rigid from the contact. A hurricane of strange feelings overwhelmed her, stealing the breath from her lungs and the words from her mouth.

"What you think does matter," Twilight said softly. She kept her head facing forward, the one visible eye half-obscured by her messy mane. "It matters to me."

Ember's heart began to pound the same way it did during a hunt, or the times when she sat alone and counted her growing hoard. Twilight's body was so warm and soft; Ember couldn't think of the last time she had touched something that wasn't sharp and rough and resistant.

She drew in a shuddering breath. She was a Dragon Lord, but it was beginning to feel as though there were things that even Dragon Lords were frightened of. But then hadn't she known that already?

Ember wavered; she didn't move away, nor did she push Twilight from her. The indecision felt like a claw being taken to her heart. She sat still, feeling her power, the power of a Dragon Lord, bleed away into the night.

Then she felt Twilight tremble, and she realised that she wasn't alone in those thoughts.

"Can we do it again?" Twilight cleared her throat. "The race, I mean."

Ember blinked. "The race?"

"Yes, back to the mesa? I think I've just realised that there's something else I want to bet on."

Ember's body stirred at that. There was something about the sudden change in subject, in the tone of Twilight's voice, that put her on edge. She studied the pony, taking in how compact she had become, how tense her muscles were.

"What exactly are we betting on?"

"Not we. Me." Twilight moved back an inch, and the sudden absence of her half-weight against Ember's scales was like a winter's chill. Their eyes met, the determination in Twilight's shining as brightly as the moon.

Ember puffed coils of smoke from her nostrils as she studied her face. Twilight had the look of somebeast who was determined not to lose, but even she must have known that it was a lost cause. Regardless, the promise of another race, of another chance for Ember to reclaim stolen ground, was too strong a lure to resist.

Climbing to her feet, Ember stretched out her stiff arms and nodded to Twilight. "Okay, let's do this."

"Let's," replied Twilight, and with a sudden flash of light she was gone.

"You cheated," Ember growled as she landed back on Cinder's Table, her feet scudding against rock.

"No, I went direct." Twilight's expression was victorious. "Who did you think you were competing against?"

And then she kissed her.

It lasted just a second, but for that second Ember was convinced she had been struck by lightening. She tensed at the contact, her mind exploding into colours and scents and tastes, and then she was stumbling backwards. Her lungs forgot their duty, her heart was performing its duty too well, and all her mouth could manage was spluttered gasps.

In contrast Twilight had become a statue. Her face was aflame, her eyes wide and unblinking. For a few seconds her mouth chased the ghost of the kiss, opening and closing like a door in the wind. Then she seemed to steady herself; drawing in a deep breath she looked at Ember and waited.

Ember could only stare back.

"W—What was that?" she eventually managed, forcing the words out one by one.

Twilight jumped at the sudden sound of her voice. "I... Well I... I kissed you. Obviously."

"I know you kissed me!" Ember roared. "But why!?"

It was a stupid question and she knew it. She knew that Twilight knew it too, but she couldn't help herself. It was a question that gave her time and she needed time. Time to think, and time for her body to get back under her control again.

Twilight looked taken aback, as if this was the one response she hadn't anticipated.

"T—That's a stupid question, what do you mean 'Why'? Because I wanted to, of course!"

A strange concoction of feelings began to froth and churn inside of Ember, looking for release. She was staring at a face that had suddenly become beguiling, at a body now dizzying to behold. Ember stared at Twilight and realised that she suddenly wanted the distance between them to close again. To do what she didn't know, but she wanted it to happen anyway. The realisation triggered a fresh wave of panic.

"D—Dragon's don't kiss," she said, her voice a trembling rasp. "That's not... That's not what we do." She stood there, paralysed, listening to the sound of her protest fade away across the plains.

Twilight tilted her head to one side. Then her eyes widened in comprehension. "O—Oh! Of course. Right, just... Yes... You're right." She shook her head, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth. "Just give me a moment, okay?"

A moment later Ember found herself seized by a powerful, magical grasp, and hurled at speed into a nearby boulder.

"Ug!" Ember crumpled to the floor with a groan. After taking a moment to catch her breath, she rolled onto her back, blinking away vast constellations of lights as she opened her eyes. She stared at the moon as it chased itself in circles above her, before it was obscured by Twilight's face. Somehow she was managing to look both proud and anxious at the same time.

"Was the dragon way better?"

"Marginally," Ember croaked.

They returned to the edge of the mesa, sitting side by side, an awkward tension dancing on the warm breeze around them. Ember tried to keep her attention on the trenches she was clawing into the ground beside her, but the memory of that kiss continued to rattle around inside her skull. Beside her, Twilight sat rigid, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wild behind her mane.

"So why a dragon?" Ember let the question hang in the air, trying to decide whether it had been the right one to ask. "No, wait—why me?"

Twilight laughed at that, a jangling sound that made Ember feel even more muddled. Then she closed her eyes and performed some strange ritual that seemed to involve waving her foreleg around and exhaling. Ember watched her, fascinated.

"Because I fell for you," Twilight replied when she had finished, as though the answer really was just as simple as that. "I fell for you twice, in fact." She took another shuddering breath, her eyes restless. "I fell for you once when we were writing—oh I fell for you hard—and again the moment I saw you at the opening of the summit today. You looked beautiful. You are beautiful."

Ember's mouth fell open. Twilight wielded her honesty like a weapon at times, and once more Ember was left reeling from the blow. She could only stare at Twilight as she silently weighed those words against her own thoughts and feelings. They would match. Even before she tried, Ember knew they would match.

"I've never..." Twilight's cheeks somehow managed to become even brighter. She coughed, then lifted her head defiantly, her muzzle jutting towards Ember. "I've never fallen for anyone before. Never. I don't mind telling you that I'm terrified."

Ember opened her mouth to reply, but Twilight held up a hoof. Her eyes wavered for a moment before she continued.

"After my coronation I realised something. At first I thought I was just missing my friends. Suddenly not being around them every day was an awful thing to have to get used to. Yet as things settled down and we all managed to find the time to see each other again, I realised what I was feeling was something else, something that was a little similar, and yet completely different. It was only when we started writing every few weeks instead of every month that I knew what it was."

Twilight fell silent, her eyes barely visible from beneath her mane, yet so obviously still tethered to Ember's.

"Y—You're talking about... Look, I don't know..." Ember tried to make sense of the thoughts that were clamouring to be heard, but under the weight of the moment she just couldn't force them into focus.

"Argh!" She stamped a foot, crushing a rock beneath it. "You're going to make me talk about my feelings, aren't you?" It was as close to an admission as Ember could make, and she knew it wasn't enough. But her head was spinning and it didn't feel like it would ever stop.

Twilight's head jerked as though she'd been struck. "Do you have to be so cold about it?"

"What do you want me to say!? You don't get to pick and choose what parts of dragons you like and don't like!" Ember hissed, her frustration with the situation, with Twilight, with herself becoming too much for her to control. "You don't get to play around like that!"

"I'm not playing", Twilight replied sullenly. "I've never been playing. I've been trying to compromise—" her head snapped up "—but you're being too dumb to let me!"

"Yeah? Well maybe I don't—Argh!" Ember spun around and roared in frustration. "This isn't easy for me!"

"I—It's not easy for me either." Twilight was beginning to look as though she might cry. Ember knew that at one point in her life the sight of that would have delighted her. Now, though, it just left her feeling angry—though at who she couldn't decide.

"It's harder for dragons!" she roared, trying again.

"It's harder for a pony who didn't even have friends for most of her life, let alone anything more!" Twilight screamed back, her face inches from Ember's. "It's harder for a silly pony who thinks it's a good idea to court a dragon by behaving more like one, because she's so afraid of just being herself!"

"What!?" Ember swallowed down the rest of her retort, the ferocious honesty of Twilight's words staying her hand. She stared at the pony, trying to make sense of the broken jigsaw of emotions on her face. Ember remembered trying to complete a jigsaw puzzle once during one of her trips to Ponyville, and she had hated the experience. This was worse, much, much worse.

Twilight inhaled sharply, and it was only then that Ember noticed she had unconsciously reached a hand out towards Twilight's face. They both stared at it, eyes wide. Ember tried to move her arm, first forward and then back to her side, but her body refused to obey.

After a moment of waiting Twilight closed her eyes, her face breaking into jagged pieces.

"You know, you were right." Her throat bobbed. "This will be a long week. I should... I should probably just get some sleep. I'm sorry... I've made such a mess of this."

Ember's mouth moved uselessly. Suddenly the panic that had been oozing and needling across her body turned ice cold. She shuddered as her heart thrashed against her ribs in protest.

Twilight smiled a smile that was delicate and broken and covered in blades. Ember felt each of them pierce her skin as it faded from Twilight's face. She watched her turn and unfurl her wings, and suddenly she wasn't a pony anymore but a treasure that Ember could never again hope to possess.

"W—Wait." The sound of the voice ringing out across the mesa was so fragile that it took Ember a moment to realise it was hers. She set her jaw and tried again. "Twilight. Twilight, wait!"

Twilight froze, though she didn't turn around. A tremble passed through her wings and they slowly lowered. Ember exhaled, only then realising she had been holding her breath.

"I think Firestorm was scared too."

Twilight's entire body sagged as Ember spoke, as though she had been waiting to hear those words forever. She slowly turned around. Her eyes were still wild, but they were now being tamed by the desperate hope spreading across the rest of her face.

"Change, it's pretty scary for a dragon." Ember felt the weight fall from her with every word she spoke. "We like our habits, and I think it's easier to not risk breaking something that works. Especially when it's something of your own making. I think Firestorm felt that. I think I feel it too."

"I think it's okay to be scared." Twilight moved a step closer, and for the first time Ember noticed that her eyes and cheeks were glittering in the moonlight. The strange expression of hope continued to brighten her face though, and when Ember searched she was surprised to find that it was trying to bloom for her too.

Twilight kept moving until she was inches from Ember. "It doesn't mean you shouldn't try though."

Ember stared at her until time had lost all meaning. Then she shrugged. "Maybe you're right."

And before Twilight could say or do anything else, Ember picked her up and dropped her over her knee.

"Auwk!" Twilight gasped as she rolled to the ground, her chest heaving and her eyes spinning. Ember stood over her, one foot placed on Twilight's stomach, and savoured the victory. Only when she had satisfied her more base urges did she lean forward until her snout was touching the hairs on Twilight's muzzle. Ember sank into the ticklish warmth of her breath as Twilight's eyes began to search hers desperately, pleading with her to become the predator they both knew she was.

So Ember obliged. She closed the remaining distance in an instant and pressed her mouth hard against Twilight's.

Twilight squeaked, and the sound of it drove Ember on like a wild beast. She ignored the way her snout bumped and snagged against Twilight's muzzle, and gave scant regard to the strange new feelings competing inside of her. She shut her brain down and kissed Twilight again and again, and Twilight surrendered willingly. Her soft lips smoothed out Ember's roughness, and her forelegs wrapped tight around Ember's neck, pulling her closer.

Ember had no idea how long they stayed like that, but when she finally pulled away Twilight's face was glowing like the sun. A ravenous desire began to grow within Ember; she could feel her muscles twitch as she planted her hands on the ground either side of Twilight's head.

"Was the pony way better?"

"Marginally," Twilight gasped.

Then her eyes narrowed.

They remained where they had fallen, lying side by side and facing the ocean of stars above. The night sky was illuminated by occasional bursts of colour. Ember watched gouts of green and purple flame lick the air, explosions of vibrant sparks causing cheers to ring out below.

She nodded to herself. Obviously the dragons had decided to move on from Ring of Fire, and were now entertaining the pony delegation with a game of Meteor Rain. Ember felt a twinge of frustration at that. Regardless of whether she was one of those who was dropping the great chunks of saltpetre, or one of the participants below who had to make them explode before they were squashed, Meteor Rain had always been her favourite game.

The frustration only lasted a moment though.

She could taste blood again in her mouth, and a quick probe with her tongue confirmed a loose fang. Pride bubbled up inside of Ember, and she turned her head to the side.

"Maybe you don't have a lot to learn," she said, wincing as pain flared in her jaw. "That was some courtship throwdown."

Beside her, Twilight groaned. Her mane was a twisted, matted mess that had fallen across her face, and cuts and scratches ran like battle-kissed streams across her body.

"You started it," Ember replied. She knew that she really wanted to ask whether Twilight regretted starting it, but Ember was feeling too euphoric, too satisfied, to let doubt creep back in.

Twilight slowly pushed her mane to one side and opened an eye, the skin beneath it already dark with bruising. "I dread to think what happens when dragons break up. You look a mess by the way."

Ember laughed at that. Pain blossomed somewhere beneath her ribs, but Ember knew it was a thing to be proud of. She encouraged herself further, her laugh becoming a roar, relishing the agony and what it represented.

She noticed Twilight watching her with an expression somewhere between incredulity and fascination. Ember grinned toothily at her. "You," she let her eyes drift across Twilight's body, "look pretty good."

Twilight spluttered something incomprehensible, and then groaned again. With slow, jagged movements she rolled herself onto her side so that her whole form was facing Ember. Thin streams of sticky blood clung to her muzzle, but Twilight ignored them. Ember again felt her heart swell.

"So..." Twilight coughed before anchoring her eyes to Ember's. Her voice was thick and smokey in the silence between the explosions. "So. What happens now? Because I swear if we did all of that for nothing then I—"

Ember leaned forward and pressed her tongue against Twilight's muzzle, licking it with rough strokes until it was clean of blood. The taste of it was far sweeter than her own, and for a moment the rest of Ember's world flickered and faded.

When she finally pulled her head back, she did so with a smile.

"I accept your courtship, Twilight Sparkle."

"Uh... Heh..." Twilight looked as though she had been hit around the head again. Her eyes rolled about, unfocused, and a silly smile began to spread across her face. She lifted a hoof to her muzzle. "I, uh, I do too? I mean—" her eyes suddenly became clear again "—Oh my gosh, you do!?"

"I do." Ember lifted an arm, staring at the bite marks running the length of it. The red wounds were a stark contrast to the blue of her scales. "You fight pretty good, Twilight. I don't doubt from that you can protect me."

"I'm not convinced you need protecting!" Twilight winced as she adjusted herself again. She stared at Ember for a moment, as though trying to work something out, before shuffling even closer. Slowly, as though allowing Ember the opportunity to object, Twilight lowered her head until it was resting against Ember's shoulder. A husky sigh escaped her lips.

Ember grew tense with the contact, her heart rattling inside of her chest, but she didn't object. She did feel the growing need to do something though, and after a moment's debate she rested her head against Twilight's. It felt uncomfortable and weird, but it also felt right, like that was the the place she needed to be.

And then it all made sense.

"I sometimes wonder if my father was playing me like a fool."

"Torch?" Twilight's voice sounded tired, but Ember could still detect the surprise in it. "But why would he do that? He's your dad."

"You might not have realised, but we are dragons," Ember replied. "Our family relationships are a little different to yours."

Another chunk of saltpetre fizzed in the night sky, helixes of flame following it to the ground as the world was momentarily filled with colour. With a grunt, Twilight lifted herself up onto one foreleg. She looked exhausted, but she peered down at Ember and waited, a gesture to show she was listening.

That was the moment when Ember knew she had fallen for Twilight.

"You remember the Gauntlet, right?" Ember pushed back the intoxicating feelings. There was still unfinished business to deal with.

"Back when you became Dragon Lord? Of course."

"Yeah, well, you probably never knew but the whole thing had been made up on the day. Dad didn't need to abdicate as quickly as he did—I didn't even realise until I became Dragon Lord myself, but dragon law allows a year for a successor to be chosen."

Twilight frowned at that. "So then why did he?"

Ember shrugged. "I've been thinking for a long time about that. I think he probably did it to force my hand."

"Eh? But he didn't want you to take part, remember? All that stuff about strength and size, as if that makes a difference."

Ember tapped Twilight lightly on the muzzle. "Dragons, remember? Besides, you've never met Dad, not properly anyway. He's more clever than you think. The night before his announcement we had argued. He thought I was still behaving too much like a whelp."

Twilight's eyes widened, but she swallowed down whatever protest she had been about to say.

"What were you doing that displeased him?"

Ember snorted. "Stealing gold from traveling merchants, kidnapping princesses from nearby towns, that sort of thing. You know, the fun stuff you do when you're young and impressionable. But Dad's always been big on reaching as high as he can, and I guess he thought I could do better." Ember shrugged, a smile on her lips. "As always, he was right."

Twilight studied Ember, her eyes searching every inch of her face. Then she lowered herself so that their bodies were once again pressed together. Her mane tickled Ember's snout as she pressed her lips hesitantly against her cheek.

"You never mentioned this in your letters."

"It wasn't important then." Ember felt Twilight's warmth penetrate her scales. "It wasn't ever important, until... Well, you."

"Me?"

Ember bit down the hiss that had been building. She was past all that now, they both were. She had worn her pride and her strength like armour, and they had won her battles. Now it was honesty's turn.

"I wasn't going to let some boulderheaded dragon become the next Dragon Lord," she replied. "But I also wasn't ready to be Dragon Lord, not really. Sometimes I'm not sure much has changed."

"But you're a great Dragon Lord," Twilight blurted out. "Look at all of the things you've already achieved for dragonkind.

Ember snorted at that. She watched the smoke thread itself through Twilight's mane. "Maybe you think so, but no offence, the pony point of view isn't important. What dragons think is."

"But—"

"What this dragon thinks is." Ember rested the hand of her trapped arm on Twilight's shoulder. Beneath the softness of her coat she could feel muscle twitch. "It's a big shadow to walk beyond."

"Whose shadow are we talking about?"

Ember flinched at that, and Twilight was already moving before she could fashion a response. She lifted a hoof to Ember's cheek. The gesture was so soft, so hesitant, that it should have infuriated. And yet it didn't.

"Ember... You're not Firestorm. You know that, right?"

The laugh that burst from Ember's mouth felt as though it had cut her. Once again Twilight had aimed her weapon true.

"I know. I might not always have known, but I do now."

Twilight lifted her head to look at her. Her expression was serious.

"Have I forced this?"

Ember shook her head. "You can't force dragons to do anything they don't want to do."

"Okay... Okay." Relief consumed Twilight's features. "It's just that I've been so desperate for this—" a wild laugh escaped her lips "—so desperate, that I've probably presumed a lot. I'm... I'm not very good at this."

"You punch and kick well for someone who isn't very good at this."

Twilight smiled gratefully at that. She ran a hoof down one of Ember's horns. "I don't want you to feel any pressure, though. I don't want you to feel compromised about this."

Ember tried to shrug. "Well, if I do then I guess I'll just kill you and take your Kingdom."

"That's not funny."

"Yes it is!" Ember punched Twilight lightly on the shoulder. "Anyway, it's like you said, right? It's okay to be afraid."

Twilight's smile held the warmth and brightness of the sun. "It's okay to be afraid."

Another fireball erupted above, and Twilight was suddenly framed by a glittering mosaic of reds and yellows and blues, all competing the way only colours could. Ember gazed up at a face that was wearing its emotions with pride—fear and anxiety, determination and joy all stared her down, daring her to mirror them on her own. To allow herself to be afraid.

So Ember did.

Author's Note

My sincere and heartfelt thanks for taking the time to read this story. It's dwarfed in size by so many other stories on this site, but for me it's a substantial piece, and one I have loved writing. It's been a long time since I last enjoyed the process of writing a story, since I last became consumed by it, and it's been reassuring to know that it can still happen. There's a lot for me to reflect on about this, both in the end result but also the process that lead to its creation, so I of course would welcome any thoughts, comments and critiques on the story itself.

More than anything, though, I hope you enjoyed reading it! :twilightsmile: