Smolder clutched her pillow tightly, hugging it to her chest.

She knew it hours ago, but she was doomed to a night full of tossing and turning.

Her eyelids felt like they were weighted with lead. Insomnia had conquered her the last few nights. Time had become fluid and bountiful in the midst of her chaotic thoughts. All she longed for was sleep, but it was just out of her grasp. Her brain clamored, staving off thoughts that impeded any chance of her escaping her sinking headspace.

Dragons were tough. Dragons were fearless. Yet here she was terrified.

She preferred to stare into the fuzzy, ebony pitch that surrounded her everytime she closed her eyes, as if chiseled into the caverns of her brain, bore the long-forgotten picture from earlier.

She curled up in agony, and her breathing picked up. Deep breaths, deep breaths. She unclenched her first, and forced herself to calm down until she couldn’t feel her pounding heart banging at the walls of her chest anymore.

The cycle repeated itself over and over again. Smolder’s eyes shot open, flickering with rage. She was beyond exasperated at this point. She reached over the side of her bed, grappling at her trash can until she caught hold of the haunting image. She reached into the frame, scraping herself on some of the shards, jostling the picture until it slipped out of the frame.

Without an ounce of patience left in her withering body, she sat up and in a deep, fiery flash, her burden was replaced with ash falling onto her bedroom floor. Smoke escaped her nostrils as she panted, her exposed veins retreating back underneath her skin.

Smolder laid back down, breathless.

She closed her eyes, and it was gone—he wasn’t there anymore.

Alas, it was a pyrrhic victory, and she knew it. But if it was enough to keep her mind settled for the night then so be it; it was a success.

She shut her eyes for the last time that night, and for the first time in days she’d gotten what she desperately wanted; she was alone.

Where pain and disdain left her for the night, an ever more daunting feeling took its place—vacancy.

All her life she was told she was bound to be alone, alone with a dragon she barely understood. Despite this, she was determined that wouldn’t be the case. She knew deep down, if there was such a thing, she’d find a way to be happy, and that she wouldn’t be alone. That didn’t make her less of a dragon, right? If that was what being a dragon meant, then why would she want to be more of a dragon anyways?

Maybe she was just a different dragon. Yeah that was it; she was a different dragon.

For a moment she took refuge in this thought.

She unleashed a sigh.

It didn’t matter.

Being a different dragon wouldn’t make her any less of herself.

~~~

Smolder buried her head in her folded arms and unleashed a groan. “I hate Mondays, so much.”

She peered across the table, flinching slightly as she exposed her tired eyes to the sun pouring in through the cafe window.

“All you need is whiskers and you’re basically Garfield.” Gallus sniggered, taking a seat across from her, his trademark grin plastered ear to ear.

Smolder adjusted her neck, earning a grizzly pop as she twisted her neck to the right, and another as she twisted it to the left. “Gallus,” she said, flashing a wink as she leaned in, “need I remind you cats eat birds?”

“No—no you do not.” He placed his drink down and threw his hands up in mock surrender, waving them about until a satisfied look etched across Smolder’s face, though it didn’t last long.

Smolder eyed his coffee mug that was filled with a very light-colored, thick liquid. “You want any coffee with your creamer?”

“Ha. Good one.” Gallus took another sip of ‘coffee,’ and slid it across the table. “Don’t knock it before you try it. And careful, it has a kick.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head as she clasped the mug. “You do know who you’re talking to, right?” She brought the cup to her mouth to take a sip, but hesitated. Gallus’ idotic grin was stitched across his face and hadn’t wavered in the slightest since the drink entered her possession. “What do you mean a kick? It’s cold as milk.”

Gallus reached across the table. “Fine, more for me then.”

And just as Gallus anticipated, Smolder took a drink.

Relief crossed her eyes as she contemplated the flavor, only to be quickly replaced with a burning sensation in the back of her throat. She spat, heaving loudly.

“Oh come on,” Gallus tossed his talons into the air, this time in exasperation. “You’re not that much of a lightweight.” She heaved louder, earning concerned looks from the other patrons. “She’s fine, she’s fine. Just don’t get a number seven, and you’ll be fine. It’s nasty,” he said, gesturing for everyone to go back to their own business.

Smolder wiped her mouth, and scraped her tongue with her teeth, swishing about to get the bitter, burning taste out of her mouth. “Ptht.”

“Oh don’t be dramatic—”

“Are you disabled?” Smolder slid the drink across the table aggressively. Gallus stopped the mug right at the edge, some of the inebriating milk-mix splashing over the rim. “Who the hell starts drinking at one in the afternoon?”

He shrugged, and indulged himself in another sip.

“What’s in that anyways?”

Gallus drummed his talons on the table, casually scanning the room. “Dragon Cum.”

“Excuse me?” Smolder’s cheeks flushed into a nice rosy pink.

“Yuh-huh.”

“What’s in there?” she asked, rubbing her forehead.

“Coffee creamer and cinnamon whiskey; it’s not complex. It gets its name because it’s thick, creamy, but has a kick like a dragon’s—”

“Thank you, Aristrotle. Never would have guessed.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you even drink that stuff. Regardless of how inaccurate it is, it’s absolute trash.”

Gallus paused mid-sip and quirked a brow. “I’m sorry, and you know how the real deal tastes because…?”

Smolder pursed her lips, then laughed. “Oh please. Keep up your act and you’ll never know,” she said, shooting him a devilish smirk of her own.

“Hey, if it tastes nothing like this nectar, I doubt I’m missing out on much,” Gallus grumbled.

“You’re a creature,” she said, picking at her claws. “Next time we go out, I’m mixing dollar store Vodka and whatever else I can find and calling it Griffon Dick, see how you like it.”

“Careful there; call it something like that, and I might never stop drinking.”

Smolder’s face hit the table, her wings covering her face to suppress the rough, quaking screech she belted. “There’s no winning with you! Somebody kill me please. I beg for the sweet release of death.”

A new voice entered earshot. “Before or after your coffee?”

Smolder peeped out from behind one of her wings to confirm with her eyes what she knew with her ears: Sandbar. He took the seat beside her, placing a cup of coffee in front of himself, and in front of her.

The burnt steam danced through the air and tickled her nostrils. For the first time today, she felt pleasantly alive. She clutched the lukewarm cup and eyed the oily black liquid within.

“You like any cream with your coffee?” Gallus quppied.

She returned his question with a fierce glare, before taking a long, refreshing drink of her bitter brew.

Sandbar traded inconspicuous looks to Gallus and Smolder, before resting his eyes on Smolder. “Is Gallus giving you a hard time?”

“When is he not?” she said with a wink.

“Hey!” Gallus whined, but the instant he reacted, laughter erupted. He sighed an admission of defeat, punctuated by some incoherent grumbling.

A voice beside him chirped, cheerful and sharp. “Hey to you too!” Silverstream strode up to the table and took the seat beside him.

Next to her, Ocellus took her respective seat with a delightful buzz. “What’re you guys talking about?”

“Gallus’ drinking problem,” Sandbar said, teasing.

Gallus took another sip of his brew. “I prefer ‘sobriety solution,’” he said through a thin smile.

“You’re drinking this early?” Ocellus tilted her head aside. “What for?”

“Pregaming, duh,” he scoffed, eliciting confused glances amongst his friends, all of which settled back on him. “For tonight…? It’s the last Monday before school starts, right?”

Smolder facepalmed. “Oh yeah, that’s tonight isn’t it?” She felt like an idiot. Even with all she’d endured recently, she felt this was a day she normally looked forward to; it was odd she forgot it completely.

“What’s tonight?” Ocellus said, exchanging puzzled glances between her other friends.

Gallus opened his beak to answer, but in the nick of time, realization washed over Silverstream’s face and she interjected. “Oh! Oh! Our annual get together; we moved it! Yona won’t be back ‘till Wednesday, so we figured we would move it to then or Thursday in case she needed a day of rest.”

“That’s what you’re pregaming for?” Sandbar asked, confusion laced in his voice.

Gallus pinched the bridge of his beak. “Wait, shit, so you’re telling me it’s not today?”

“No, you were even here when we decided this—” Sandbar nudged Smolder and waited a brief moment for her to meet his gaze, “ —Wednesday, five o’clock, and my parents' place later; they’re in Canterlot this week, so we’ll have the house to ourselves. You’re good with that?”

Smolder confirmed with a nod.

“Perfect.”

“Wait, so, Wednesday—we’re doing nothing today?” Gallus asked semi-confidently.

“I don’t think we planned on it, no. I can’t anyways, I have my last shift of the summer here in an hour. I’ll be out all day.”

Gallus groaned, and leaned back, gulping down the last couple of shots in his glass. The coffee table shook as he slammed his mug down, his face twisting as he swallowed sharply.

More puzzled looks were exchanged across the table. “Geez dude, you finished that quick,” Sandar said.

“With his weak stomach, if he doesn’t start building his tolerance now, he’ll be out after a couple hard ciders.” Smolder said, raising a claw to Sandbar for a high five.

“Oooh. Burn!” Silverstream said through a giggle.

Gallus scrunched his face up, then scanned the table and lifted one claw, three talons raised in the air. He put one down, then another, and as his last talon fell, Silverstream took a drink from her cappuccino. She yelped, drawing back as she scorched the tip of her tongue.

“Ooo, burn,” Gallus said, leaning up against the hippogriff and presenting his incredibly punchable face to her. Instead of opting for the easy route out, she wrapped him into a chokehold and assaulted him with a noogie, much to his protest.

Smolder tuned out her friends, sliding down in her seat. She mindlessly scanned the coffee shop as she searched for an answer to the unrelenting sense of forgetfulness.

Then, it dawned on her.

“Wait, did we say we’re doing anything today?” Smolder interrupted, stress wrinkled across her forehead.

“Not unless you want to do something.” Ocellus offered with a gentle look.

Smolder paused for a moment. Were they asking her to make the plans or giving her the option to be involved if she wanted? She shook her head and dismissed the thought. “I think I need another day to fully recharge. Also, I think I signed myself up to help Spike with something today.”

“You think?” Gallus adjusted his jaw, then spoke into a broken yawn. “What do you mean you think?”

“With her mind, dummy,” Silverstream said, playfully socking him in the shoulder.

“Oh my stars you’re right, I thought it might have been with her scales,” he answered with an ineffective deadpan to Silverstream’s unwavering smile.

Smolder huffed in amusement. “I just remembered Headmare Twilight asked me to stop by when I got back from the Dragonlands. I never asked what for, but it can’t be that bad until the semester starts, I guess.”

“Let us know if you need any help,” Ocellus chimed in, “I’m not busy today, I’d be glad to lend a hoof.”

“Me too!” Silverstream cheered, accompanied with an enthusiastic nod.

Smolder shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her friends were generous, but she didn’t want them bending over backwards for her due to... recent events. Not to say that they were, but the possibility made her feel guilty.

“Thanks, but I think I have it covered,” she said. “But if anything changes I’ll let you guys know. I’ll probably see what’s up after I try and take a nap.” She yawned and clutched her cup. “Or if this coffee wakes me up, whichever comes first.”

“Did ya not get a lot of sleep last night?” Sandbar asked, shooting the drake an incredulous look with a tinge of concern.

“Nah, not really,” she said, rubbing the back of her head and her eyes glancing around the room. “I mean I got some. I just wish I got some more.” Smolder tried her best to remain honest with her friends, while also maintaining her complete composure. Explaining away the darkening rings around her eyes wasn’t going to happen, but she knew reassuring the fact she’d be okay would comfort her friends. The lie even calmed herself.

Sandbar chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “Well, at least I got you decaf.”

Smolder snorted. “No you didn’t. And if you had, the coffee wouldn’t have been the only thing roasted.”

A barrage of chuckles surrounded him, and he grimaced. “Duly noted.”

Ocellus took advantage of a brief lull in the conversation once the laugh died down. “So,” she started, “have any of you guys decided on your year-long study?”

Gallus laughed dryly. “Not a chance.”

She batted her eyelashes, breaking her dazed state. Silverstream drew back in surprise. “Wait, is that due sometime soon?”

Ocellus answered with a curt nod, earning an ‘eep’ from Silverstream.

“Oh stars, I haven’t even thought about it. What did you choose, Sandbar?”

“As of right now, nothing.”

“Perfect!” she cheered. “I’ll do absolutely positively nothing. It’ll be the best nothing Headmare Twilight has ever seen.” She tapped the base of her chin. “Wait, do you think she’ll have an issue with us picking the same topic?”

Ocellus scanned the table, her nervous smile faltering between a giggle and a worried panic. “So I take it none of you have come up with your topic?” All of her friends confirmed her notion with a quick nod except for Smolder, who disinterestedly picked at her claws.

“Smolder?” she asked.

“Hm?” Smolder broke from her almost trance-like state and snapped to Ocellus for a moment before her eyes fell back to her claws. “What’s up?”

“Did you pick your topic for your year-long study?”

She dusted her claw off against her chest and sat up straight. “That? Pft, yeah. I’ll be BS’ing my way through ‘Dragon Psychology’ this year.”

“That sounds interesting!” Ocellus said, a meek but intrigued smile gracing her muzzle. “I love Psychology—I’ve studied a lot on the differences between the thought process of ponies and changelings. I’m sure there must be a ton of stuff on dragons too!”

“Eh, not as much as you think. Dragons were never the best bookkeepers.” Smolder shrugged.

“Oh. Right. I didn’t really think about it.” Ocellus swallowed. “Then there’ll be more research to do then!”

Smolder tilted her head to the side. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”

“If it’s deathly boring, then for Ocellus it is a good thing,” Gallus said wryly..

Ocellus drew back from the conversation, rubbing the top of her foreleg with the other. “Well, if you do need any help, let me know!”

“Believe me, egghead. You’ll know.” Smolder grinned, and blew a kiss to the tense, turquoise changeling, earning a smile and nod in return.

“Well.” Sandbar tapped the table with his hooves, and slipped out of his chair. “It’s been fun guys, but I have to start lifeguard duty. We decided we’re not doing anything else, right?”

“Not until Wednesday, I guess,” Gallus said as he stared down his half-full mug, swishing about the cream-colored liquid.

“Oh don’t be so glum, Gally.” Silverstream wrapped him in an embrace from the side, earning a snort from Smolder, to which Gallus stared at her with daggers. “You and I can go to the docks for the afternoon. That’d be fun!”

“I’ll go too,” Ocellus said. She swiveled her head in Smolder’s direction. “Unless someone needs help with their royal duties.”

Another snort. “Puh-lease.” Smolder kicked her feet up on the table and leaned back, balancing herself on the chair’s back legs. “I doubt spending the afternoon with ‘Spikey-Wikey’ will be the worst.” She took another swig of her coffee. “Now, going out to the lakes sounds gnarly. I’ll be down there when I’m done.”

Ocellus nodded.

“Alright, well I’ll see ya later then guys.” Sandbar swiped his coffee and headed for the café door.

Smolder swirled about the last of her coffee in the bottom of her cup. “Yeah, I guess I better get going too,” she said, hopping out of her seat. “With any luck it won’t be something stupid, and I’ll be there in a few hours. Any idea how long you guys will be there?”

“Eh, we’ll probably leave by sundown.” Gallus said. “We can stop by the castle on the way back to check up on you if you want.”

“Nah, if you guys aren’t down there I might just skip a rock or two.” She stretched her arms to the sky and her wings out as wide as possible, unleashing a yawn. She squinted into her coffee cup, peering through the small slit of the cap. No way he actually got me decaf, right?

Silverstream bounced out of her seat, took several strides towards a nearby trash can, and dropped her cup into the bin. “Come on guys, we better get going if we want to find a good spot by the lake.” She waved a claw for her friends to follow as she exited. “Bye, Smolder!” she yelled across the cafe, a shrill bell punctuating her exit.

“See ya,” Gallus said, Ocellus following behind him.

“Later,” she responded.

She knocked back the last dribbles of her coffee that swished around the base of the cup, flicked it into the trash, and walked out of the cafe.

She shielded her eyes from the summer sun as she stepped out of the cafe entrance. Muggy air made her nose crinkle, and the uncomfortable humidity crawled beneath her scales as she put distance between herself and the sanctuary of the air conditioned restaurant.

Summer’s heat was pitiless, bearing down on Ponyville with a relentless fervor. Smolder would have flown if the blazing sun hadn’t made it too excruciating to keep her eyes open and unshielded. Heat didn’t seep from the ground below like it did off of the molten rocks of the dragonlands, but it was still discomforting. What Equestria lacked in sheer temperature, it more than made up for in the unadulterated, sticky humidity that weighted the air.

Minutes later, she arrived at the Castle, greeted by a rush of refreshing, cool air within the corridor. She glanced upwards, and pushed off of a foot and in one flap of her wings was airborne. She barreled down the vast atrium, twisting in a loop, before she dug her claws into the royal purple carpet, stopping her momentum.

She stole a peek over her shoulder and tapped her chin. It was a really unnecessarily long hallway, easily a hoofball field and a half in length. Maybe it was intentional, to give creatures that wandered into the princess’ domain time to contemplate if their visit was really worth it. Perhaps it didn’t bother Twilight or Starlight much considering they teleported just about everywhere. Now that Spike had his wings, leaving was so much as a three-story plunge from his window, and the same climb returning. No matter the reason, it was stupid.

The next set of doors roared on their hinges as Smolder pushed her way inside. Contrary to conventional Castle construction, the throne room was at the forefront of the palace. Though Smolder had been in this room countless times over the years, two things stood out to her: the trunks of the Golden Oak Library, and how it was always—always—empty.

The old trees’ roots cascaded down from the ceiling, its tips adorned by precious, enamoring jewels that made Smolder’s mouth water. She tried her best not to acknowledge them, but without fail—every time—caught herself fantasizing. Their sparkle was too captivating. Had she dared devour a diamond or two, without a doubt she’d get away with it; the only potential witnesses were buried in the labyrinth of the Castle’s many rooms, which begged another question.

Where were the guards? It could be argued that Equestria was incredibly safe, but there wasn’t a town without police, nor was there a palace without guards, save for Twilight’s castle, apparently. It was odd, but it was also a thought that merely grazed Smolder’s mind for a passing moment nowadays.

She contemplated shouting her presence as loud as she could, but with how enormous the castle was, there was a fair chance her words would fall on deaf ears.

Smolder wasted little time and headed for the library on the top floor, finding the nearest stairwell. As she crested the staircase to the next floor, a thud crashed down the hall, followed by a faint cry. Definitely the library, she nodded and fluttered to its entrance. Landing gently and forthright, she strutted into the boundless room.

At a circular table, maybe a hundred feet away with their backs turned were the conjurers of the calamity, exchanging quips like an old married couple.

“Why didn’t you just levitate them down in the first place?” Spike whined, arms crossed, tapping his foot against the floor impatiently.

“I thought you had it under control,” Starlight countered. Several books entranced in her light blue aura slid back into their places on their respective shelves.

“You could have helped me though.”

Starlight shrugged. “Sorry, I just wasn’t paying attention.”

Smolder cleared her throat. Both Starlight and Spike’s ears flickered towards her, followed by their snapping gazes as they turned around.

“Smolder!” Spike cheered, and lunged towards her, wrapping her in as tight of an embrace as he could muster.

She scrunched her face and popped her arm free from Spike’s grasp to return the embrace. “Good to see you too, bud.”

“When did you get back in town?” Starlight stepped to her side, donning a soft, cautious smile.

“Uh, yesterday,” Smolder said as she unlatched herself from Spike, and took a half-step away.

“Don’t you have something for Smolder, Spike?” Starlight asked, as Smolder batted a confused glance between the two.

“Oh yeah!” His eyes lit up. He pivoted and backpedalled towards the library door, a proud grin etched on his face, his flickering eyes unbreaking from Smolder. “I have something to get for you, I’ll be right back!” His voice drifted off as he rounded into the hallway.

Smolder rubbed her neck and prayed it wasn’t a gift.

“Want some Colt-aid?” Starlight’s voice beckoned behind her.

Smolder turned to see a pitcher of a red liquid. “Is there alcohol in it?” she asked flatly, remembering the last time she was offered a drink.

“What? No, Spike’s been drinking it.” She poured a cup and levitated it over to Smolder, stopping its momentum just out of arms’ length. “Does it need alcohol?”

“Please no,” she said, extending her reach and pulling it out of Starlight’s aura.

Starlight placed the pitcher back down and sauntered to Smolder’s side, a smirk plastered across her face. “So,” she said, “I have a question for you.”

Smolder brought the cup to her lips, but stopped short of taking a sip. “Shoot.”

Starlight giggled, earning a perplexing look from Smolder. “You’re eighteen, right?”

Smolder’s skeptic face hardened. She lowered her cup. “Yeah?”

Starlight failed to suppress another giggle. “So Trixie and I made a bet— ” Smolder crossed her arms, and chewed on her lower lip. Her absence really wasn’t going to go unnoticed for the week she was gone, “ —Spike.” Starlight gestured with her hooves in an insinuating fashion. “Yes or no?”

“Yes or no what?”

Starlight waggled her eyebrows.

“Oh my Stars, you guys need more hobbies. No. The answer is No.” Smolder threw her arms up, defeated. “Why does everyone ask me that? He’s like a little brother to me.”

“Well, not to be that pony, but from extensive research on dragon habits, that’s never really stopped anyone before has it?”

Smolder’s cheeks burned, and she scoffed. “Extensive research. Really?”

“Well, maybe not, but it’s what I heard.” Starlight grinned.

Smolder couldn’t hide her tittering facial expression as she waltzed over to the table with the Colt-aid pitcher. “That sounds like a stereotype, and a false one at that.” She looked at the pitcher of Colt-aid intently then swiveled around to face Starlight again. “Who made this Colt-aid again? You or Spike?”

“I did. Why?”

Smolder tipped her cup over the rim of the pitcher and poured it back into the container. “Didn’t you used to be a cult leader?” Smolder flashed a toothy grin, and Starlight unleashed a boisterous laugh. Smolder shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s what I heard.”

Starlight shook her head, impressed. “I’ll have you know, I haven’t had murderous tendencies for years now.”

“From Apex Predator to Predator to National Security, old habits die hard.” Smolder winked.

They shared a laugh. For the first time since being home, Smolder noticed she wasn’t tense. Starlight may not have been the most conventional school counselor ever, but with how much time Smolder spent at the Friendship Castle, and with Spike, they’d developed a really close friendship.

Starlight wasn’t like most ponies. She wasn’t afraid to be crude or talk about the uglier things in life, or even the slightly uncomfortable. It was a weird thing for a pony, but it reminded her a lot of the dragons back home: offensive, blunt, and relished in imperfection, but Starlight was all of those things with more tact. The mixture, the concoction that was Starlight Glimmer was a comforting one.

“Ta-da!”

Smolder’s ears flickered, and she faced the door. Spike wiped his sweat-covered forehead. Behind him stood a basket filled with jewels, brazen and mouthwateringly shiny. Smolder’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. There were so many of them!

“They’re for you!” Spike said as she ambled towards him.

Snapping from her trance, she gawked at him. “Why exactly?”

Spike walked forward and put a claw on her side, staring up at her with the most thoughtful emerald eyes. Smolder pushed one of her feet behind her, putting herself off balance as she quirked a brow. “Do you remember Sludge?” he asked.

Sludge, the laziest, most foul-smelling parasite to pose as his Dad. “Yeah. I remember him.”

“Well, I remember what it was like having a Dad, even if it was only a couple days. And when he left, I know it’s not the same as what you’re going through, but you were there for me. I want to be there for you too. And I know gems don’t fix problems, but they’re nice to have.” He smiled.

Smolder stared blankly. Heaviness overwhelmed her chest and her heart writhed, a feeling of static humming in her lungs. Her throat tightened, and her palms dripped with nervousness. Suddenly, it was difficult to breathe.

Smolder folded her claws together, her expression becoming somber. She knew she was being awkward, but her words caught in her throat. Her knees buckled, and she felt lightheaded as her face flushed of its color. Why was she so nervous? Why couldn’t she just say ‘thank you’ and stop thinking about it?

Breath strained and staggered, she rocked side to side uneasy.

“Smolder?” Spike asked with a concerned look.

A stiffening shock coursed through Smolder’s body, and she stood straight as a board, alert. “Huh. What?”

He leaned in. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Smolder said, a thin laugh escaping her. “I’m just. I don’t know what to say.” The whole time she dodged his looks as best as she could, her eyes glued to the floor.

Finally, she peeked up at him. “Thanks. I mean it. I, uh, have a lot going on right now. It’s just a lot to process, and I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“Is there anything you’d like to talk abo—”

“No!” She immediately recoiled, and Spike jerked back himself. She really needed to start taking deep breaths before she spoke. “No, Spike, the offer means a lot, it’s just…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “There’s not a lot to talk about, ya know? It’s just one of those things that take some time. I guess.”

“She’s right ya know,” Starlight chimed in.

Smolder had nearly forgotten Starlight was there.

“I remember losing my grandfather when I was a filly. It’s just one of those things where the less you think about it, the better it gets.”

Spike’s eyes met Smolder’s— she promptly glanced away, her shoulders slumping forward. She knew she was being very evidently uncomfortable, but was that not normal for creatures that dealt with grief? She felt dizzy, and her cheeks burned. She opened her mouth to ask Spike to leave it alone, but closed it when the words trapped themselves in her throat.

“Oh,” Spike said, stepping forward. He put her claw in his, and offered a gentle expression. “Talking isn’t for everyone. It’s okay.”

Smolder stood still for a moment, her unfocused gaze unwavering, until she finally reconnected with her senses. She shuddered and shook her head. “Thank you.”

“The gems are still yours by the way.”

She chuckled. “Thanks, really. I mean it, Spike.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he said, a twinkle shimmering off one of his fangs as he revealed his teeth in a grin. “So what brought you in today, anyways? School doesn’t start for a few more days.”

“Uh, I thought Twilight had me scheduled to help with something with you, Spike?”

Spike rubbed his chin. “Twilight didn’t tell me anything, so I don’t think so. We’re just rearranging her library right now. If there was something for us to do today, she would have told me. Twilight doesn’t forget, I promise.”

“Huh, I guess I must have remembered something wrong...” Smolder trailed off. She popped her knuckles absentmindedly, racking her brain for any extra details for what today’s appointment was for, but any remnants of it were long gone.

“Well, if you want to kill time, you’re more than welcome to help us sort books,” Starlight suggested.

Smolder didn’t react immediately. “Uh, yeah, I can help. Sorry, zoned out there for a second.”

“S’all good. Come on now, snaggletooth. Spike’s got this section—”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Smolder shook her head and grinned, pointing a claw at Starlight. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Snaggletooth? From the greatest mistrial in Equestrian history? Spare me.”

Starlight shrugged. “Considering the fact Discord and Tempest Shadow enslaved all of the Equestria, and I merely enslaved a podunk in the middle of nowhere. I’d argue they’re each significantly worse than me.”

“Didn’t you supposedly try to advance global warming a million years with forbidden time travel magic and alternate realities or something too?”

“Yeah, but by technicality each of those realities were hypotheticals. And what do we always say about hypotheticals?”

In Starlight’s cheerful, and Smolder’s droning tone, they echoed, “‘We don’t live in hypotheticals.’”

“Exactly!” Starlight said.

“Yeah, yeah. Just show me the books.”

Author's Note