That's what she told me. That's how it all started. And honestly, I didn't know what to do. Look, let me just put it all down here, lay it all out for you, you'll get what I mean...
"Hey, Twilight!" Spike said, striding into the main Audience Hall of the Royal Palace of Canterlot. Unannounced, without fanfare, as he'd always insisted. After all, he knew who he was. He wasn't about to put on airs.
"Hey, Spike!" Princess Twilight Sparkle smiled down at him from the rose-cushioned seat of her Friendship Throne. She nodded curtly to the Chief Steward, who bowed formally then backed out of the room, leaving the two of them alone.
"You're looking good, there, Royal Advisor," Twilight went on. "Real good! Looks like those visits to the Dragonlands agree with you."
Spike self-consciously flexed his muscular build. "Yep! Though to be honest, I still don't feel like I fit in there. I've spent so much of my life among ponies, I guess I'll always feel like one. I never really feel at home until I'm back here again."
"Well, it's good to have you back." Twilight gestured with a gold-armored forehoof at the comfortable Advisor's seat next to her throne on the dais. "Truth be told, I always feel a little at a loss up here, without some company."
Spike climbed the carpeted ramp and settled himself, cracking his knuckles ostentatiously.
Then he looked up at her. "Hey, have you gotten taller while I was away?"
"An inch or so, I guess." She made a face. "And the mane and tail keep growing out. Thank goodness for the magic spill-over that keeps them flowing like this. I wouldn't want to even imagine having to wash and comb them out every day. Still, the growth does seem to be slowing down just a bit... I think."
"Well, good!" Spike shook a finger at her. "Because I plan one day to be tall enough to look you square in the eye. And it's just not fair, if you're gonna keep on getting ahead of me like this."
Twilight laughed. "On that day, mister," she retorted, "you can move to the Dragonlands permanently. And rule there as Dragon Lord, with my blessing!"
"Twi!" Spike stared at her. "Don't even joke about that."
"Who's joking?" she teased. "After all, you're only letting Ember hold the Bloodstone Scepter for you, right? Until you're of age, and can face her in proper, mortal combat? Then win it back and rule the Dragonlands yourself, with an iron claw?"
"Twi!" Spike cringed, looking panic-stricken. "You... you wouldn't send me...? You wouldn't make me...?"
She gave him a look. "Of course, not, Spike. You know me better than that. I could never do without my trusty Advisor and Number One Assistant! Not for long, anyways."
"You mean it, Twilight?"
She nodded formally. "The job is yours, Spike, for as long as you want it. So sayeth the Crown!"
Although he could see that she'd only been joking, Spike still sighed in relief. "Thanks, Twi!"
Then he sat up straight, smiling proudly.
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"It's Friday!"
Twilight looked at him. "Yeah, last I checked," she said, puzzled. "Not even the Princess of Equestria can just magic more days into the week... not that I haven't tried, of course, what with all there is to look after around here..."
"I mean, it's Friday afternoon," Spike reminded her. "When things are usually quiet, and you have time to write your personal letter to Princess Celestia, telling her about everything that's been going on around here. Even though you don't have to do it, you still do, right?"
Twilight's smile slipped away. She suddenly faced forward, head held high.
"No more letters, Spike."
He goggled. "What?"
"You heard me. It's time I faced up to it. I'm the Princess of Equestria. It's my responsibility, and nopony else's. I don't need to keep writing to my mentor, like some little schoolpony hoping for a good mark on a term project." She set her jaw firmly. "I'll still write to her, of course, whenever there's important news. Something that she and Luna ought to know. But... I need to stand on my own four hooves from now on. So, no more letters, Spike."
"Well..." Spike bit his lip. "Not even one? One last one?"
She shrugged. "What would there be to say? Hi, Princess Celestia! This will be my last letter to you for a while, because I'm old enough not to need your advice and guidance every five seconds?" She shook her head. "She'll understand, Spike. Somehow, she always does."
"Um..." Spike looked at his claws, unsure what to say.
"Plus, it's not really fair to you," Twilight went on. "Forcing you to incinerate and belch up scrolls all the time, if there's no need for it."
"Hey! I've never minded."
"It hurts when you cough them up, Spike. I can see it does." She gave him a look that brooked no denial. "That spell was designed for a baby dragon, with a smaller flame. And you're not a baby any longer, buster!"
"Yeah, but well... I'm a big dragon now," he objected, thumping his chest. "I can take it! It's not a big deal."
"Nope. My mind's made up, Spike," she replied. "You're not a post-box, and I don't intend to go on treating you like one." Then she suddenly grinned. "Because I have a much better role planned for you."
With her magic, she summoned a small golden medallion on a purple strap. Floating it over to Spike, she settled it about his neck. "In addition to being Royal Adviser, I am hereby appointing you my Friendship Ambassador," she intoned proudly. "From now on, when you take a message from me to someone, it'll be in person, with the authority to match."
Spike held up the medallion in a claw and stared at it, amazed.
"Woah... thanks, Twilight!"
"You've earned it, Spike," she said. "Don't let anyone tell you different. I've wanted to do this for a while, actually, but there never seemed to be a quiet moment. So now's the time!"
"Gee..." Spike gritted his teeth. It was a tremendous honor, and he didn't want to disappoint her...
... but he just couldn't let it rest.
"Are you really sure, Twi?" he asked. "I know how much you like sending those letters. How proud you are, to report on everything that's been going on here in Equestria, all the good progress the country is making..."
"Oh yeah, tooting my own horn, more like. Gosh! Look how Equestria's doing under the benevolent rule of Princess Twilight Sparkle! You remember how it was, Spike, when Celestia ruled here? She never had to tell anyone about the things she did. Everypony could just see it for themselves. It's why they venerated her name. It's why she ruled unchallenged for well over a thousand years."
"Well... then don't write about the country!" Spike said hurriedly. "Write about something you discovered this week, something unexpected, something that caught you by surprise, like, uh..."
"Like when that new chef mistakenly brought me quesadillas for lunch?" Twilight said. "And I had to force them down anyways, and say how good they were?"
Spike stared, an eyebrow raised. "That actually happened?"
"Uh huh. I mean, what could I do? It was his first day on the job. If I'd told him the truth, he'd have been mortified. It would have crushed him! I could tell."
"Huh. Thought you hated quesadillas," Spike said.
She shook her head. "I don't hate them, Spike. I've just never really been fond of cheesy things, or dishes with creams or sauces. Too easy to hide stuff in dishes like that. My mother used to do that to me, hide vegetables in these cheesy, creamy casserole dishes. And then, I'd have to clean my plate, every bite. Because that was the polite thing to do."
She put on a dark expression. Her voice took on a crafty, evil tone.
"So now... I despise all cheesy things! Muah hah hah hah!"
Then she giggled and smiled. "But I just couldn't disappoint that poor chef. So I took one for the team, sort of. And then quietly advised the staff after, on what I'd rather have for lunch." She nodded. "It's funny, Spike -- I'd rarely felt the weight of the crown on my head, quite so much as I did right at that moment."
"So? Write about that!" Spike said.
Twilight shook her head. "In a thousand years, I'm sure Celestia's all too familiar with that sort of thing. She's had to break in new staff, what, fifty or sixty times, at least? It'd be nothing new to her. She's seen it all before."
"Then... write about our friends, about the most recent meeting of the Friendship Council?" Spike said. "Or about Starlight's progress with the curriculum at the Friendship School? Or about..."
"Already in dispatches," Twilight said. "In the formal reports. And I summarized things in my last letter to her. There's literally nothing new I could add."
"Uhhh..." Spike was getting desperate. "Then... write about you and me."
"Huh?"
"Yeah! About me coming back just now, how happy you were to see me, and about how you gave me this swell role as your Friendship Ambassador. You can't have told her about that yet, right?"
"No... that's true," Twilight said. "To be honest, I haven't even told the Chief Steward yet. So if he asks, we pretend it was a misfiled memo or something, 'kay?"
"Right." Spike nodded, seeing his chance. "Look, it's just one more letter, huh? Just about you and me. Just like when we started out together. Whatever you're feeling like saying right now. Go out on a positive note. We don't even have to send it via my spell when we're done. We can send it by regular post -- now that they've sorted out the mess that Postmaster Derpy made around here!"
Twilight looked about to object, then nodded.
"Okay, Spike. For you... one more letter."
Reaching behind his seat, Spike fished around in the box and came up with a scroll and quill -- while quietly thanking the stars he'd remembered to stock extra. "Fire away!" he said.
"Dear Princess Celestia..." she began.
Twilight dictated, and Spike wrote. And as Twilight talked, Spike could see the smile on her face widening, could see the weight of rule lifting from her shoulders. He could see her putting it all down, putting it into words, even as he hurriedly scribbled to keep up with her. He saw Princess Twilight retreating from her gaze, just a little bit. And the familiar Twilight Sparkle that he knew so well peeking out ever so slightly, in every laugh, every self-deprecating remark, every roll of her eyes...
They came to the end, and Spike concluded it, the way he'd always done:
From the desk of Twilight Sparkle,
as transcribed by Spike
"Thanks, Spike," Twilight said. "That was a great idea. A chance to just talk about how I feel, put it into words. I've needed that so much, lately, while you were away. I just didn't realize it." She sighed. "And now... it's all done."
"Oh, no," Spike warned. "It's not done yet."
He rolled up the scroll, affixed the seal to it. Then he held it up. With a gust of green flame, the scroll was charred to vapors which wafted away on the light breeze circulating through the hall.
"Spike, I thought you said --"
He shrugged. "It's not really done until I send it off," he told her. "Because until I do, you could always take it back. You could have me rewrite it, make corrections. Or just not send it at all. But once it's gone, once it's out there, on its way..." He held up his claws to the empty air. "You can let go. You can put it behind you. You can move on, knowing your thoughts are on their way to somepony who really wants to hear them, no matter what you have to say."
Twilight stared at him. And then nodded.
"You're right, Spike. That's what I've been writing all those letters for. Not because I have anything in particular to say. But... because I know she always wants to listen." She smiled. "I'm glad that was my last letter to her. It was... appropriate."
"Actually..." Spike said, scratching his spines in embarrassment, "it wasn't the last one. You see, Celestia removed the letter-spell a few moons ago. She noticed it was hurting me, too. I mean, I tried to object, but..."
"... but you might as well have asked the Sun to stop shining," Twilight finished for him. "How well I know that!"
"Yeah! And too, I think she knew that you were feeling ready to stop sending letters through me."
"Really?"
"It's like you said." Spike grinned. "She understands. Somehow, she always does."
Twilight nodded in agreement. Then she gave him a puzzled look. "So, why burn up the scroll? Without the spell, it went nowhere. All that effort was for nothing."
"It wasn't for nothing," Spike said. "It had already done its job. It was the telling, the writing, that mattered to you. That's what you needed." He reached out a claw, to touch her forehoof. "It always gives me pleasure to make you happy like that, Twilight. It's never a burden. So, whether we send the letters to Celestia by post, or just burn 'em up and say we're done with them... just never stop writing them, Twilight," Spike told her. "Never stop. Not so long as it's what you need to do, not as long as it makes you happy."
"All right." Twilight nodded. "And thanks, my faithful Advisor."
"Huh! And Friendship Ambassador too," he added, holding up the medallion. "Let's not forget that!"
She smirked. "You better watch out, buster," she told him. "Or the next letter I send to Celestia, I'll have you deliver personally --"
"Hey, that's no biggie..."
"-- from memory!"
Twilight glared at Spike, trying to look stern, but the smile just took over her face and she started laughing. Spike laughed with her. And their mutual happiness echoed through an Audience Hall that was suddenly a little less huge, a little less empty... and a little less lonely.
That's how she put it, word for word. But do me a favor, will ya? Don't tell her I wrote this down after and sent it by the more powerful letter spell you taught me, huh? I want to surprise her with that, when she's gotten over being Princess enough to want to start sending the personal letters again for real.
Seriously. Let me have this. Because she means everything to me.
But I don't have to tell you that, do I?
You feel the same way, too.
From the desk of Twilight Sparkle,
as transcribed by Spike
The End
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, its characters and indicia are the property of Hasbro.
No infringement is intended. This story is a work of fan fiction, written by fans for fans of the series.
