What Matters Most

by Coronet the lesser

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Twilight Sparkle, Main 6
Length: 4391

Spike notices that Twilight is exhausted by her new Princess duties. He decides to do something about it, by reminding her what is truly important.

After Twilight's coronation, Spike notices that Twilight is overwhelmed by her new duties.

He decides to do something about it, by reminding her what is truly important.

Published 2021-06-06 19:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2021-06-06 19:50:01 UTC

1. Sometimes It's Alright to Not be Alright

Spike was a dragon on a mission.

He followed the winding castle corridors to his destination. It was still quite surreal for him to be back in Canterlot, not merely as a mere assistant under Celestia’s guidance—but instead as a royal occupant himself.

Spike was quite familiar with the castle, but its complex layout had still proven to be quite discombobulating. On several occasions, he had become lost on his way to Celestia’s old study, which Twilight now occupied. As Spike arrived outside the tall doors to the room, he hesitated before entering.

He had decided today was the day that he was going to convince Twilight to visit Ponyville.

While the initial weeks following the coronation had been hectic as Twilight came to grips with administering the country, things had finally begun to settle. Spike felt it was a good time for her to take a short break. She had been working nonstop for days on end—what better way to unwind than with her friends?

Spike was not entirely selfless in his pressing for a visit to Ponyville. Canterlot was a daunting, high-strung, constantly on the move type of city. It left him feeling homesick for the slower pace of Ponyville.

Fortunately, their ticket out had just arrived.

Spike looked down at the letter in his hand, reading over its contents. After he finished, he gently pushed the study door open.

Twilight was seated at her desk, as she usually was these days, scanning over whatever governmental papers had landed in her inbox. She did not lift her head to see him enter. That was fine; she probably did not hear him. He strolled up to her side before speaking.

“Hey Twi, what do you think I should get for Big Mac’s birthday? I was thinking maybe a new board game? I spotted some nice ones on the high street.” He hopped casually to seat himself upon the side of the desk. Spike glanced over to Twilight, who still had not reacted. “Twi?” He waved his claw in front of her eyes. “Earth to Twilight! Helllooo?” Spike pulled down the page she was reading, which finally seemed to startle the mare out of her trance.

“Huh?” she exclaimed. “Spike, what is it?”

“Did you even hear me?” He rolled his eyes. “I am asking you what we should get for Big Mac’s birthday?” He waved the invitation at her. “The one you promised to attend like two months ago?” Twilight took the letter in her magic and carefully read over it; her expression fell as she scanned the page.

“This weekend?”

“Yes?” Spike answered, his brow shot up. Twilight never usually forgot her friend’s birthdays—especially those from Ponyville. She sighed and placed the invitation on the desk.

“I would love to Spike, but I have a trade delegation arriving from the Eastern Isles this weekend,” Twilight said. She pointed at a stack of large books on the other side of the table. “I have 200 years of fractious negotiations to catch up on. Not to mention the fishing union is demanding I refuse to negotiate any concessions that would imperil their industry. I have several angry petitioners demanding my time.”

“Oh,” Spike said quietly. “But Twi, we promised.” He sheepishly took back the invitation. “Plus, you haven't been to Ponyville in a while. I was hoping we could catch up with the girls. I know you’ve been working hard lately; maybe a bre—.”

“I know Spike, I'm sorry,” Twilight exclaimed softly, shaking her head. She then gently patted his cheek. Her smile was apologetic. “This week just isn’t a good time. You go, okay?” Twilight turned back to her desk. “Give everyone my best wishes—and of course, a very happy birthday to Big Mac.” She slowly opened a drawer and pulled out a calendar. “I swear I’ll find some time to visit Ponyville soon. I promise.”

Spike was unsure how to feel; he certainly was not happy. But he understood. That is what it meant to be the number one assistant to a princess. Twilight would find the time.

She had promised, after all.

“Oh, okay. Maybe next time.”

Twilight waved at the crowd of ponies gathered before as she entered the royal carriage. Several journalists took pictures as she did so; their camera bulbs flashed brightly. Her smile was wide as she took in the adulation of the cheering crowd.

Eventually, she stepped into the covered carriage and seated herself as the door closed. The coach then pulled away back towards Canterlot Castle. Twilight leaned back, closing her eyes in relief. Spike sat to her right. He turned to her, looking up at the weary princess.

He was not sure this was the right time, but it had been weeks since Big Mac’s birthday, and Twilight had not spoken once about Ponyville since. He thought about raising the issue again.

He could wait for a better time, he supposed, but it could take days before Twilight wasn’t engaged with some form of royal duty. The free moment that the two enjoyed in the carriage was perhaps his best chance.

“Twi, I was just thinking,” Spike started tentatively. He looked up hopefully at her. When she didn’t immediately react, he decided to continue after a short pause. “The Running of the Leaves is coming up. I asked the organisers to send me the application forms. Now that the summit is over, maybe we could try something easy. I know you've been dying to go.” He furrowed his brow when she still had replied after another period of awkward silence. “Twi?”

“Hmmm?” she answered, still looking out the carriage window.

“The Running of the Leaves? I just—”

“Is it that time already?” Twilight asked blearily as she slumped in her seat.

“We are going, aren’t we, Twi?” Twilight massaged her temples, shaken from her reverie.

“Spike, the Cabinet will want to go over what was discussed at the summit,” Twilight said. She shook her head ruefully. “It’s taking up my entire week. I'm sorry, the timelines are just too tight.”

“But the Running of the Leaves is one of your favourite events from Ponyville; you always go,” Spike protested.

“The summit was only meant to go on for two days. Yet here we are, three days later than expected.” Twilight shrugged. “These things happen. There’s always next year.” Spike turned from her, crestfallen.

“Oh well, that's understandable,” he said sadly as he glanced at the invitation. “The girls would have been super excited to see you there.” He scrunched the paper into a ball, sighing deeply as he did so.

“I know.” Spike could feel Twilight’s scowl, despite not looking in her direction. “I'll see them soon. I think there is a gap in the schedule coming up. Just not now.” Her tone left no doubt that this was the end of the matter for the moment. Spike contemplated her words in silence before he eventually nodded and spoke.

“That's okay, Twi. I’m sure they'll understand.”

Spike slowly opened the door to Twilight’s office. He had been sure to check her schedule for the day. From what had he had seen; her evening slots were unusually free. It was dark out, but her office light was still on, indicating that she was still working. He thought he could catch her before she winded down for the night.

“Hey, Twi, I know how bummed out you were on missing the Running of the Leaves last month. I just checked the schedule, and I think there’s a—”

A soft noise interrupted Spike. He tilted his head as Twilight came into view; the noise repeated. Spike considered Twilight’s huddled visage.

She had fallen asleep.

Her head rested against several pages as she softly cooed. Spike smiled slightly, reminded of countless nights when Twilight would work herself to exhaustion over whatever project consumed her that particular day. He knew what he had to do.

Spike claimed a pillow and a blanket from a nearby laundry press and returned to the office, where he gently placed Twilight’s head on the pillow and draped the blanket over her back. Spike decided not to disturb her by moving her. He reached the door; Twilight’s snores followed him as he turned off the light.

“Don’t worry, Twi. Next time for sure.”

Spike had often heard of the expression of the concept of déjà vu. But he could soundly say he never had the pleasure of the experience himself.

Until today.

Once again, he was standing before Twilight’s desk, trying to convince her to separate from her princessly duties for a short visit away to Ponyville. She would generally deflect; Spike would leave crestfallen. Then he would never speak of it; he would tell himself it was not his place, that he didn’t blame Twilight. This was just the way things were. It had been familiar pageantry for some time.

He had decided to put a stop to it.

Spike stood before her, tapping his foot vigorously. His frustration was at a breaking point. He had watched in dismay as Twilight grew more and more involved in her work. On one claw, she was still finding her footing as the sole Princess of Equestria. Yet, on the other, Twilight sometimes frighteningly resembled what she was before she had visited Ponyville. Spike would never accept that—enough was enough.

“Twilight, this year’s Friendship student graduation is coming up. You said you would go to the ceremony; Starlight is asking for confirmation of your attendance.” He eyed her as she sat hunched over her grand desk, scratching incessantly upon some document with a quill. “The girls wanted to organise a get together after the ceremony.”

“That's great, Spike,” Twilight replied numbly, her eyes never lifting off the pages before her.

“So, we're going?” he asked hopefully. Before she responded, there was a knock on the door. A primly dressed aide entered, carrying a thick folder of documents. He bowed deeply before proceeding to the desk, file in hand.

“Apologies Princess, these forms require your signature,” he said.

“Please leave them on the desk—I’ll get them back to you this evening,” she answered curtly, not even sparing him a glance. He bowed and exited promptly.

“Twilight, you’re not answering me,” Spike pleaded, waving his letter back and forth. Twilight still resisted looking at him, but he did not fail to notice the tightening of the lines around her mouth. Spike’s other claw balled into a fist.

“Spike, the graduation ceremony is next Friday. It’s not possible,” Twilight said matter-of-factly. “I’m backlogged as it is, not even accounting for the preparation for an official visit to the school. Starlight will understand. I’ll see the girls at the next Friendship Council.” Twilight appeared to wince, but she was quick to regain her neutral expression. “I just have to keep going. “Is there anything else? These forms are urgent.”

“Twi, you’ve been going like this for months,” protested Spike. “You’ve got to take a break at some point!”

“And I will,” Twilight replied tersely.

“Then why not for the coming Friday?”

“Because I can’t.” She grimaced. Her face became strained as she seemed to struggle to contain her emotions.

“Come on, Twi, it'll be fun,” Spike said. “It’s just one day. That’s not asking much.” He gestured toward her desk dismissively. “The country is hardly going to collapse just because you’re not here for a couple of hours.”

“Spike, this is not a debate,” she answered, her quill stabbed angrily against the page.

“But Twi, it'll just be like old times,” he urged. “Remember when we first came to Ponyville and—”

“Enough, Spike. I don’t want to hear anything more about Ponyville,” growled Twilight. Spike stood there dumbfounded for a moment. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers.

“I know what will convince you, Twilight. What if we go run into town and get the new A.K Yearling book? I know you haven't read it yet. Rainbow Dash has been writing asking for your opinion. We could have a co-reading night! Just like when we were younger.”

“No.”

“But Twi, AK Yearling is your favourite! I bet—”

“I don't care about some stupid kids’ story!” Twilight snapped. She slammed her hoof against the desk as she stood up; her fiery gaze fell upon Spike. “Can you let me do my work?! Is that so much to ask?”

Spike recoiled from her. After a moment, Twilight settled back into her seat, her quill resuming its incessant scratching. He nodded slowly, shuffling toward the door. He spared a final gaze back at her.

“Of course. I'm sorry I barged in. I love you, Twi.”

She did not answer.

The moon hung high in the night sky when Twilight entered Spike’s room. He lay in bed, his back to the door, blankets pulled up to his chin. The light from the hall pooled into the dark bedroom.

“Spike?” called Twilight out quietly. He did not answer. She took a few tentative steps towards the bed. “Can I lay down here?” Spike did not answer, but he did not say no. Twilight gently laid next to Spike. She followed his gaze and stared up at the ceiling. “I shouldn't have shouted at you. It was wrong.” She exhaled heavily. “I’m not going to lie; it’s been a…difficult couple of months. I know you're trying your best. I know you miss Ponyville. I do too. I miss the girls and school and all the friendly faces. But—”

“You are too busy,” Spike finished her sentence for her.

“I wish things were different, but these are the way things are,” whispered Twilight. “You are so brave for putting up with everything.” Spike sat up from his bed and stared at Twilight.

“Why can't you make the time?”

Twilight looked away, shame apparent on her face.

“Because Spike, I have responsibilities now. To not just the girls, but to everypony in Equestria. This is just the way things are.”

“And what if I don't like it?” he said quietly. He angrily clutched at his blanket, pulling it tightly up to his chest. Twilight looked back at him with a lopsided smile.

In the dim light, she could see how tired she was, the bags under her eyes, the frizzled hair, the matted patches upon her coat. And at that moment, Spike came to the startling realisation that maybe Twilight did not like it either.

But that was the difference between the two; Spike could dislike the way things were—she could not.

Spike saw a small, tired pony in his sibling that had the entire weight of the world on her shoulders, not the prim and proper princess everyone else saw at court. Even then, she still managed a smile—one of those beautiful little ones that were just for him. It was comforting and parental but also understanding. She leaned forward and placed and gentle kiss on his forehead before she lifted herself from the bed and made her way toward the door.

“Get some rest, Spike. We have another long today tomorrow. I’ll find the time to visit Ponyville as soon as I can. I promise.”

“You’ve said that before,” he mumbled. She turned to face him again.

“Would you take a Pinkie Promise then?” Spike nodded. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” Spike smiled as he watched Twilight perform the physical aspect of the ridiculous ritual. They shared a hearty laugh. “Goodnight, Spike.”

She closed the door. Spike, though, remained awake in bed; his thoughts whirled at Twilight’s words. She had just made another promise she could not keep. It was not her fault; this is what it meant to be the ruler of an entire country.

But still, something had to be done.

Twilight needed her friends—but she was still too proud to admit it.

Years ago, when Shining had gone off the academy to train to be a guard, he had entrusted Spike with looking out for Twilight. He had never forgotten that promise throughout all their years together.

Now, he was a royal advisor; his responsibility was not to Equestria but to Twilight herself. As the hours passed as he lay awake in bed, his thoughts ever wandering on what he could do, an idea came to him.

Maybe if Spike could not convince Twilight to go to Ponyville, perhaps, he could bring Ponyville to her.

It was another busy day at Canterlot Castle. Twilight had been a flurry of movement as she was ushered from meeting to meeting, Spike ever-present at her side. Her head hung low towards the floor as the day’s workload took its toll. At several points, she had yawned when they were both alone.

“Spike, can you please give me the footnotes for the next meeting?” she asked tiredly.

“Sure thing, Twi,” Spike said, flicking through the copious number of files he carried. He smiled slyly, barely able to contain himself, knowing what was coming up next. Eventually, he stopped pretending, looking for what Twilight requested. After a minute or two, Twilight finally noticed and shot Spike a quizzical look.

“Spike?”

“I don’t think you will require notes for this meeting,” answered Spike confidently as he led Twilight to the meeting room. She recoiled in surprise, blinking several times rapidly.

“What?” Twilight tapped her chin; her face scrunched up in concentration. “I’m pretty sure this meeting is the provincial town hall? I had several points prepared in advance.” Spike watched as Twilight blankly stared forward in confusion; he could almost see the gears turned in Twilight’s head as he stopped just before the door.

“I wouldn’t worry, Twi. I’m sure you’ll find these ponies quite agreeable.” He pushed open the door. Twilight’s eyes widened in alarm. Still believing that she was entering a crucial royal function with no note preparation was one of her great fears—Spike wished he had a camera.

“Spike, wait—”

“SURPRISE!”

Twilight jumped slightly at the cry of several voices. The generally plain meeting room was decorated with an assortment of streamers and balloons hung from every corner of the room. The centre of the room was occupied by a large wooden table from which delegates would crowd around, which was lined with a variety of confectionaries, party games and a large glass punch bowl.

But most surprising were the occupants of the room itself. Instead of the stuffy regional functionaries, greeting Twilight was an assortment of familiar friendly faces from Ponyville.

“What on earth? Girls?” she asked in utter shock. She stood as still as a statue taking in everything. There they all were, all of her Ponyville friends present; even Starlight had managed to show up.

“Howdy Twi,” said Applejack approaching the frozen princess. Before she could say more, the princess was swept up in a crushing hug.

“Oh, Twilight, it’s been so long!” cried Pinkie in delight, squeezing the taller mare tight. “Have you gotten taller? Oh gosh! I bet you’ll be taller than Celestia soon!”

“Pinkie, darling,” interjected Rarity cutting off the earth pony’s excited rambling. “Please give the dear some space.” Pinkie thankfully listened and released the still shocked Princess.

“Hope you’ve been practising your flying egghead,” Rainbow said as she hovered above the group. “I don’t want to go through training with you again. Once was enough.”

“It’s so nice to see you again, Twilight,” said Fluttershy quietly near the back of the gathering.

“I hope all those court documents have kept your magic sharp,” Starlight joked, ribbing Twilight’s side with a playful hoof. “Least the student has finally become the master?” Starlight let out a good-natured chuckle.

“I-I don’t understand,” Twilight said dumbly as she took in the presence of all her friends arriving unannounced. The shock had still not worn off—it was as if she was living a waking dream.

“Oh well, a little birdy told us you’ve been up to your ears in work,” Rarity stated, shooting a wink in Spike’s direction. “So, we decided if you couldn’t come to us. We would come to you.” Twilight turned to Spike.

“Spike?”

“I cleared your itinerary for the day,” he said, holding up the daily calendar, pointing at the empty lines usually filled to the brim with meetings and tasks. “No ambassadors, no security meetings and no petitions.” Spike wore a self-satisfied smile, content that everything had gone off without a hitch.

“But how? The local town councils surely objected. They’ll be furious!” Panic entered Twilight’s tone. Spike waved a dismissive claw.

“Oh well, he had some help with that,” answered a voice from across the room. Two taller regal ponies emerged from behind the girls, instantly recognisable as the castle's former occupants.

“Princess Celestia! Princess Luna!” Twilight immediately fell into a reflexive bow.

“It’s just Celestia and Luna, Twilight,” Celestia corrected lightly with a fond smile. “You are the princess now.” She gently lifted Twilight out from her bow into a warm hug.

“Spike told us you were having a problem with time management,” exclaimed Luna.

“Something we are well aware of, I assure you,” Celestia chuckled, sharing a knowing look with her sister.

“So, we lent a helping hoof to a friend in need, just as you have to us countless times in the past!” Luna interjected cheerfully.

“We understand that you feel you have a big responsibility Twi,” said Applejack, as her friends crowded closer to her, collectively laying a supportive hoof on her. “But we want you to know we’re always here for you.”

“Even princesses require breaks,” Luna added sagely. “Take that from somepony who knows better than most about the wisdom of taking a step back to refresh yourself.” Twilight shook her head dismissively.

“B-but the country—”

“—Is a great responsibility,” interjected Rarity. “And we are all very proud of how seriously you are taking your work.”

“But sometimes you have a responsibility to yourself,” Celestia said. “Never forget that you are not alone. You have never been; everyone present here shows that.” Celestia gestured to the group at large as they all nodded in agreement.

Twilight was briefly lost for words. Her lower lip trembled; she blinked several times rapidly. She looked at all her friends and their supportive smiles, and her heart fluttered. None of them begrudged her for her failures or her aloofness since the coronation. They all understood her, they were still here for her, and that was all that mattered—the tears flowed freely as she took it all in. it was the first time she felt that ever-present regal mask slip in months.

The castle still wasn’t home, but it almost felt like it for a moment.

“T-thank you all,” she sniffled. “I am so sorry, girls. I’ve been so distracted.” She wiped her eyes with her hoof. “It’s been such a big change. I guess I just forgot that there is then just what’s in front of me but also what's behind me too.” She gestured to the group. “My friends.”

“Awwww!” The group called out before huddling in for a hug. They held themselves there for a long moment until Pinkie Pie finally broke the group hug, the boom of her party sounding off around the room.

“Enough, chit-chat! Let’s party!!”

The party carried on for many hours, with countless games, chats and general good humour. Currently, Pinkie was explaining the game of pin the tail on the donkey to Princess Luna as the group laughed at her general bewilderment. Twilight used the lull in the party to locate a certain dragon. Spike had decided to take a seat near the edge of the party, contently sipping from his punch drink.

“Hey, Spike,” Twilight said.

“Twilight” She closed the distance between them and captured him in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. He buried his head into the crook of her neck, grateful for the warm embrace.

“It was nothing,” he mumbled.

“No, it was everything.” She pulled back from their hug, looking at him with a mixture of love and appreciation. If Spike’s only reward for all of this were that look alone, he would have been well compensated. “What would I ever do without you?” His mouth curled into a toothy smile.

“Probably go crazy.”

“Spike!” she cried in faux outrage.

“Joking!” he laughed as he raised both claws in apology. “I just wanted you to remember you don’t have to be a super important princess all the time. Sometimes you can still be Twilight. And that’s good enough for them.” He gestured to the laughing group. “And me.” He pointed at himself. “Don’t forget that when you are saving the world.” Twilight nodded, pride evident in her gaze.

“I won’t, I promise. For real this time.”

“I love you, Twi.” Spike initiated the hug this time. Twilight gently caressed the spines on the top of his head.

“I love you too,” When their hug eventually ended, Twilight gently took Spike with her magic and placed him on her back as she once did when he was young. A determined look entered her features. “Now come on, my number one assistant! I believe that the DJ has just arrived, and the dance floor is calling.” Spike’s eyes widened in surprise as he watched the famous, white-coated DJ Pon-3 enter the room alongside her vast assortment of equipment, much to the evident delight of the wider group.

“But Twi, you're a terrible dancer.” Twilight looked up at him with a knowing grin.

“Would you have it any other way?”

“No,” said Spike, a small smile dancing upon his lips. “No, I would not.”

Author's Note

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."

Life has been incredibly stressful over the past two years. I suppose I am luckier than most, all I have to deal with is the general irritation of being confined to my home. Many have lost their income, their social lives and in some cases loved ones as a result of this horrid pandemic.

I just wanted to write a piece reflecting how often we sometimes lose ourselves in what is happening that we are often blind to what matters. I think if I can thank the pandemic for anything it has really highlighted what is most important to me.