Dreamwalker's Tale

… aaand it was sunrise and I had nothing.

Well, not nothing-nothing. I had breakfast ready, once again.

It was only the second morning of me doing this, but Spike, always the business-savvy dragon, tried his best to negotiate with a zombie-Twilight about this. If I wanted to help out around the castle, surely I could be responsible for breakfast. And if he wasn’t responsible for breakfast any longer, surely he could be left to sleep in a little longer, right? Right?

I said nothing. I ate silently, breathed silently, and moved slowly, just so neither of these two got the idea to somehow involve me in that discussion.

It obviously led nowhere. Because him getting up this early was not about breakfast. Not really, anyway. It was about a structured day and discipline, but he was not all that keen on hearing this. So they had a little spat between siblings, before he harrumphed and gave up. It was for the best, I thought. She was right. I knew that. She knew that. I was quite convinced that even Spike knew that. But losing a spat never felt great.

There was a short, awkward silence until Spike gave a final huff, tried to reign in his frustration and disappointment and gave Twilight a short embrace. “I’m gonna go and help the CMC with some… stuff,” he proclaimed.

Twilight checked her mental list, then nodded. However, I could not help but notice that little, grass-green ribbon on one of his head fins. Stuff, eh? To be fair, with the cutie mark crusaders, one never knew what kind of catastrophe was to be expected next. One would be wise not to question it, too, as down that path lay only madness. Just like asking Pinkie Pie anything starting with ‘how’.

“Alright. But be back earlier than yesterday, you hear, young drake?” She ruffled his head fins and smiled.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, pressing against her a little more before running away.

He’s going to be fine, don’t worry.

When I heard the castle door close, I looked over to Twilight. I didn't know if she expected another jab or tease, but she shot me a warning glare. I just asked “Library?” But to my never-ending shock, she smiled and shook her head. “Not today. At least, not the entire day. I have to get some things in order, fetch some groceries, order new quills… you would be very welcome to accompany me, you know?”

I could not help myself. I loved her dearly and I wanted to spend more time with her, but the thought of going outside, out there…

I shrank back. I didn't even know why. Ponyville was great. Most of the folks in this town were wonderful ponies I knew and cherished. But at this time, I just could not bring myself to actually step outside. “It’s okay. I will be back later and we can still read the afternoon away.” I numbly nodded while we both stood up, cleaned the kitchen of any traces of breakfast and then she left.

I sat in the living room, staring blankly at a book, not reading a word. Instead, I was deep in thought. Analyzing my own behavior. I came to the temporary conclusion that I wanted to avoid social interaction as long as I did not exactly know who or how I was. I felt… incomplete. But the books in here would not give me a straight answer to that, now would they? In fact, they just simply could not.

Because of that, I found myself distracted. Walking around aimlessly. At one point, I stood in the middle of another nondescript crystal hallway and wondered how I got there. Or why. I randomly opened the nearest door and found what looked like a study of sorts. A heavy wooden desk with paperwork and ledgers. A couple of heavy chests, shelves lined with books and scrolls… it did not look private, though. No pictures. No art of any kind, really. From her reaction and the few words spoken about it, I knew that Twilight still felt alienated here. And this room, while certainly meant as a workspace, did not look like it had really been claimed by her. Did she even know it was here?

I was a nosy pony, apparently. A very nosy pony. Because I knew that I should not rummage through her stuff and yet… and yet. The drawers on the desk mostly contained writing supplies. Quills, inkwells, empty scrolls, wax, and her cutie mark as a seal, everything neat and organized. But I did not recognize Twilight’s organization in this. Some of the shelves contained actual paperwork. Old one, though. Tax laws and foreign treaties. Who owed what to whom, for generations past. I also found a really, really massive, leather-bound book. There was no title imprinted, so I opened it up. It turned out to be some sort of overview for the books stored in the Royal Canterlot Archive. That certainly explained why that thing was this heavy. Each book was named, with certain details given. I was mostly interested in the remarks about how certain books were locked away in areas with restricted access and could only be lent with direct and written permission of one of the Princesses. Of course I already knew that. Not only from my own memories, but from Twilight explicitly telling me this after our initial encounter and my mention of time travel.

She had remarked about lending more books from the Archives yesterday…

It was a novel idea, one which deserved more thought at some point. I closed the book and put it back to where it belonged, resuming to rummage through more of her presumably untouched and undiscovered stuff. Just a couple of minutes later, I found a neat stack of forms. It was not the first one, but this one caught my attention. I felt my ears stand at attention while my eyes trained themselves onto the text. It was about lending books. My gaze immediately drifted back to that heavy tome. Lending books, eh?

I curiously took one of the forms and read it more carefully. I did not know these things were standardized. Each form could be used to appeal for… no, wait. There were options. It was not just about lending.

With a simple mark at the very top, it could be used to appeal for copies.

I had to admit, the idea forming in my head felt really wicked. I did not know if I should feel elated or worried or downright frightened by what was brewing on the horizon. But things were in motion and I could not stop it, could not really stop myself. I remembered how sad she had looked, standing in that wide and high and empty hallway. I remembered her funny little stories about a very young Twilight and her greatest dream of living in a book fort. How she buried herself in the Archives when she was still enlisted at Celestias’ school. There were so many memories just raining down on me. But through it all, one did not budge — that sadness in her eyes when she tried to muster a smile. When we first set hoof into this castle and she tried to somehow wrestle up something good about her abode.

With that tome over there — the one that could be used to bludgeon a pony to death with three strikes or less — and these forms, the quills, the ink… sheesh, even her cutie mark wax seal was there. Wax included. It was as if this room laughed itself silly watching me slowly but inevitably fall for its irresistible temptation.

That did not mean that I was stupid. If I were to go through with this — and from the looks of it, there was no stopping it —, then I had to be smart about this. If Twilight got wind of it, she would stop me. No questions asked. And if I somehow messed this up, it would do more harm than good. From what I knew and had heard, Twilight had applied for certain copies for research projects before. So asking for more copies should not be that big of a deal. I just had to… not get greedy.

Sure. Easy.

In addition, I had no use for doubles. Twilight and Spike knew each and every title in this library, they did not have to reference any book and I doubted that there was one.

Spike.

Oh boy.

Admittedly, he would know what books were here already. And if I was smart enough about this, he would maybe even be able to distract Twilight for a while. And what was even more important, he cared for Twilight. I could not imagine that he had not noticed how awful she felt about the loss of the old library. This might be a chance. And what was a little bit of royal identity theft and forgery, right?

I knew Canterlot had dungeons. Very dusty, almost never used but still maintained dungeons.

I heard the front door close. Short-circuiting my brain, I grabbed the entire stack of forms, the massive tome and made for the entrance. Lady Luck be with me, I beseeched her, as this felt like it was out of my hooves now. Either Twilight came back and I would spill the beans about a room I had discovered and the idea I had, just so she could shut it down immediately - or it would be Spike and I would attempt to make him my accomplice.

Or, you know, maybe it was somepony wanting to lend a book.

Yeah. Sure. As if.

I found Spike running down the hallway. Welp. Here goes nothing. Though I hesitated for a moment. He looked a bit panicked. “Hey, Spike? Everything alright?” I asked in sudden worry.

He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me for just a moment, and then relief showed on his face. Probably because I wasn’t Twilight. “Ehehehehe… yeah, I’m fine, it’s fine, really.”

“Uh-huh.”

We just looked at each other for a moment until he could not stand the silence anymore. “Ballistic experiments with semi-liquid matter,” he faithfully recited. “It sounded fun?”

Oh. “… oh.” I furrowed my brow. “Nopony got hurt?”

“No… no. It’s just a mess. A giant, sticky mess in the market square.”

He did seem to regret his involvement, and I was still the stranger, so I did not even think about lecturing him. Howeeever… he knew that he was in trouble once Twilight heard the news. And I needed an accomplice. “Tell you what… I will try to defend you before Twilight if you’re going to help me out with a stupid idea of my own. Sounds good?”

He was easy enough to read. He did like the idea of having some backup, especially if it were me, because for whatever reason, Twilight seemed to like me. This, probably, would mean that she would go easy on him. But as I had told him myself — he was a smart cookie and this did not sound like blackmail at all, nahhh. Obviously, he could just say ‘no’, but then again, I could just blurt out something about ballistic stuff… just on accident. So, looking rather doubtful, he raised an eyebrow. “So… what’s the idea?”

What was that saying? Hook, line and sinker? I was willing to wager that I got the hook in. It was a start.

Smiling to myself, I came closer, forms and book in tow. “Twilight is sad because this castle is a massive, empty, cold hole reminding her of how lovely and warm Golden Oaks was,” I stated plainly, then showed him the tome and the forms. While he was reading, his eyes getting bigger and bigger, I innocently asked: “… do you happen to know which books you guys already have in here, by chance?”

When he looked up at me, thinking a mile a second, I internally remarked: Line.

“So… you wanna get her… more books?” he asked, still full of doubt. Because that surely could not be the great idea that I had. And he was right.

“You don’t have enough shelves, the library is full — I know,” I admitted. “Buuut… bookshelves can be built. Quite quickly, I might add. And she did love her book fort, didn’t she?”

His eyes grew wide.

Sinker.

We had to return to the study quickly. We did not know how long we had until Twilight would return. While Spiked made a hastily written list of books, I was searching for another form I thought I had seen. It was some kind of universal craftsman order thingy… meant for when Twilight needed a new desk because of her latest rage-fit or something like that.

I stopped for a moment. Because Twilight was obviously prone to outbursts of rage, especially the desk-destroying kind…

I shook my head and resumed searching, finding it just a few seconds later. That should be enough. And once again, it only needed her seal of approval. Which I could use. Without her approval. Like a clerk would, I supposed. Or a personal as—

Don’t. He is already doing more than enough.

Time passed by with the two of us furiously scribbling away at forms, rarely speaking a word. “You’re going to be in so much trouble for that,” he remarked as he put down another list of book names.

“I know, I know… I just can’t help myself. I can’t stand to see her sad,” I sighed. "And I don't exactly hear you beseeching me to stop, either." He tried to remember all the books they had in Golden Oaks. The ones Twilight had wanted to read for a long time, but did not manage to find time for. The genres she liked. I supplied my own knowledge of that and we cross-referenced with the massive tome. Obviously, we did not even try to apply for any books marked as restricted. But everything other than that was fair game and I could write down dozens of titles in a single form. I explicitly forbid Spike from even so much as touching the forms themselves, though. I did not know for sure what divination magic could tell and did not want to incriminate him further than I already had.

Finally, with all forms used up — yeah, I didn’t get greedy at all — and thereby hundreds of books ordered, I put down the quill. Applying the wax seal took just a couple of minutes once the wax was warm and malleable and there we were, ready to… oh.

“Alright, that should do it. Now… uh… How do we… get them…”

Spike immediately started laughing. “Great plan!” he remarked and punched me against my shoulder. Curious. Twilight must have rubbed off on him. After a moment, though, he calmed down and looked me over once more. “You really like her?”

I smiled. Maybe grinned, even. “I love her, Spike. I… am being weird about it and I’m struggling with conflicting feelings, but I love her. I want to see her happy and I sincerely hope this might help. If not… I hope the food in Tia’s dungeons is half as good as yours, then I’ll at least survive in style.”

He chuckled again and breathed green flames all over the desk. In an instant, all the scrolls and forms and applications were gone. Luckily, we had cleared the workspace of other stuff so we could work properly, but now I was worried. “You really shouldn’t have done that,” I said with a frown.

I could not remember how exactly dragon fire worked. There were several kinds of fire a dragon could breathe and some of them had almost spell-like qualities. Spike used one of those to transport messages in an instant — that, I knew. It was obvious as well, because the surface of the desk wasn’t burned at all. Neither did the desk itself vanish, because it had not been fully engulfed by his flames. But I did not know how he made those scrolls pop up where they were intended to go. “Carpenter and Archive clerk, I guess?” I asked, still a little bit shocked.

He just nodded. “I love her too, you know?” he told me in a quiet, soft voice.

I just nodded. It took me several minutes to wrap my head around what had just happened. What I had just done. I really liked the idea of praying at that moment. “How… long will this take, what do you think?”

He put a claw to his chin and rubbed, humming to himself thoughtfully. “Stonewood usually works quite fast. It’s only early evening, so the order should reach him before he closes shop for today. He might prepare all the stuff to come in tomorrow, maybe? Then again, it’s a big order, he probably needs to call in his guys, so maybe a day more? If he has all the materials ready to go. As for the Archives…” He shrugged a little. “I dunno. Copying a regular old book is just a single spell, but we applied for, like… a lot.”

Once again, I nodded. And my stomach growled. That gave me an excuse to bring myself out of this stupor, at least. “We… should make dinner.” I stood up, immediately cringing due to all the aching muscles. Maybe a walk was in order, too.

We packed all the materials back onto the desk, then made our way to the kitchen and started cutting up some vegetables for a nice little salad, all the while talking about his little exploits with the CMCs. It was like watching a train crash. Just marginally less dangerous. One catastrophe followed by the next. Sometimes, even their attempts at hiding their disasters or making up for their disasters caused new ones. Listening to him was quite entertaining, but it somehow also imparted me with the feeling that for whatever reason, Lady Luck really had it out for these poor little souls.

“So,” I jumped in after another hilarious story, still grinning. “Where’s the ribbon coming from?”

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, he took a claw up to his head, feeling for the ribbon on his head fin. “It was a gift,” he replied.

“Uh-huh.” I just smiled while he started to fidget around with his claws. “Don’t worry, Spike. I’m not going to pry. Can’t tell you how Twilight will react, though… but I think you should be safe for another couple of weeks until she notices anything.” I could not help but chuckle as he appeared both relieved and horrified at the same time.

With both salad and dressing being ready, we waited for another half an hour or so until we decided that apparently, something had delayed Twilight's return and we just dug in. Salad should be eaten when fresh and I could easily make another one once she was actually here to eat it. Then again, as Spike remarked, there was a good chance that she already had eaten somewhere else.

We lounged in the library later on, Spike reading one of his comic books and I once again attempted to read one of the remaining books from the ‘might help’-pile.

Twilight returned what felt like hours later. Somewhere in the meantime, Spike had gone to bed. And she looked like she could just march on through to hers, as well. Happy, yes, but mostly tired and exhausted. “Want something to chew on? Literally?” I offered. She was not in any state to protest too much, so she just nodded and I made myself busy in the kitchen once more.

I returned with a small bowl of salad and levitated it over to her.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. So… ‘just some groceries’, eh?” I smiled and chose not to comment on the lack of bags. It was my way of asking what had happened and she understood, smiling to herself.

“Yes, well… I ran into Pinkie.” I snickered. Just a little bit. Pinks had a talent for utterly derailing any orderly laid out plans. “Then, somehow, Rainbow joined and for whatever reason, I got roped into helping them out with one of their pranks.” Right. Rainbow. Good addition. This mixture already sounded like disaster. No CMC-level yet, though. “And then, a rightfully furious Rarity chased us around town with a pair of shears.” I had all my hooves full, trying to contain my laughter. She chuckled lightly herself, her smile brightening all the while. “Then Applejack stopped us all before Pinkie could cartwheel into her market stand and tried to sort things out, with Fluttershy’s help no less…” D’aw. The whole gang came together. She was painting quite the lively day. It sounded like a ton of fun. “And then,” she continued, “a massive — and I mean massive — amount of jelly just dropped out of the sky. The entire marketplace was covered in it!” At this point in her recounting of the day's adventure, even she herself was laughing.

That does sound like ballistic experiments with half-solid matter, does it not?

“Everything was sticky and green and smelled like apples. I had a new idea for a clean-up spell, but… that… still needs some work.” That last sentence she almost mumbled to herself, blushing furiously. So I just presumed that she made a mess. Out of a mess that was already there, so… how bad could it really have been, right? It wasn’t like another ‘want it need it’-incident. Probably.

“Rarity?” I simply asked, still smiling so much that my cheeks started to ache.

“We collectively decided to go to the spa to get rid of the sticky mess. Applejack had to carry her on her back, because…”

“… she obviously fainted as soon as she realized what had happened,” I finished. She nodded and we both continued to giggle for a little bit. “Sounds like a great day,” I summarized. There was a distinct and notable tinge of nostalgia in my voice, one she apparently noticed as well. I missed my friends. As much as I had loved her story, I wanted to be part of that again.

For a moment, she seemed to struggle with herself, but then made some sort of decision and simply asked how my day had been. I was immediately thinking about Stonewood and the Archives and Spike and wanted to spill just about everything. It isn’t too late, you know? She could probably still stop this nonsense.

And remain sad. Yeah, thanks, ain’t gonna happen. We're going to see this through.

“I tried to find something in those books again, buuut… I came up empty-hoofed. I know, I know, I should be more patient.” It was not a lie, per se. I did read, and it did yield nothing.

She was too tired to question me further, so once she had finally bested her salad, I took the bowl to the kitchen, returned and levitated her to her hooves. “Off to bed you go,” I demanded.

“You’re not my mom!” she grumbled in return.

“No. No, I’m not. That would make that kiss infinitely more awkward.” The mere mention of that had her off-kilter again. She blushed, sputtered and finally gave up with a groan.

“You are awful.”

“Love you, too.” That red shade deepened a little further. “Now — you’re exhausted, you need sleep. Off you go!” I repeated. This time, she did not even try to fight me. She instead just shook her head, smiled and trotted off towards her bedroom.

And I turned around, sighed heavily and stared at those pesky books. “Tell me your secrets or I will have to break my promise to Twilight, and believe me — we both don’t want that…!” My threats were empty, of course. And the books perfectly knew that... of course. It was the only reasonable explanation as to why they still adamantly withheld their knowledge from me.