B_25 | END
The Last Story
B_25
They struggled to meet for the picnic. To set a time that worked okay for everyone. A building had taken their usual hill. There weren’t many places where the six could lounge without passing ponies calling their names. That was the trouble with becoming heroes. Or being a Captain of the Wonderbolts, the Princess of Friendship, or the Fashionista of Equestria.
But the girls, in a stroke of luck, had all been in Ponyville and, finding a pleasant little hill by the lake, had set the blankets and the baskets, spread out the food and the drinks, and everyone talked and laughed. The lowering afternoon sun's warm, golden light, blanketed them all.
They talked of the past, and they spoke of the present. They wondered about the future—but those conversations were the shortest. There weren’t any wrinkles. Each balanced on the tip of their peaks. But the decline was coming. A change soon approached.
Twilight Sparkle struggled to smile.
It was already there.
Applejack and Pinkie snickered together. Rarity and Fluttershy caught up on this-and-that. Spike and Rainbow seemed to be in a mock debate. It was as it should be. How it was… so long ago.
When the friends would meet every day for this, there, and that. The morning apples from Applejack and the afternoon snack from Pinkie. The sudden desire to all go together to a stage play which Rainbow would mock, or lounging in Fluttershy’s cottage for the sake of it. They came and went easily. Did the things that constituted a friendship.
But slowly, life pulled them away, and their weekly picnics were no more.
And one by one, the friends had stood to leave, saying how much they missed this… and wished they could do so again. Rarity had to return to Manehatten but promised to send a card and a letter to establish the next date. Rainbow, with the Wonderbolts, would announce her next break when she discovered it.
The girls wanted to be together.
But bigger, yet less important things, kept them apart.
Twilight watched them go away. Saw them leave with a hug and a wave, knowing this would be the end. How many times would she see them again? Much less young and engaged like this? Would the coming wrinkles devastate her heart? Their time was limited, yet they couldn’t spend it together.
And Twilight could do nothing to change that. Couldn’t change their lives or the way things were. She had to accept that this was it. That, even though death would separate them soon, they still couldn’t justify spending every second together. Things needed to be done. Work had to be accomplished. They had their fates, their paths, and the steps required of them.
Spike had suggested a photo. Something quick and easy that all gathered for. He wasn’t in the picture—lacking a stand. But that didn’t matter to him as the girls blinked after the flash. After the last bout of hugs and kisses, each of the girls went their own way.
And that would be the last time they ever came on this hill during a sunny afternoon.
Spike stayed. Waving the photo and watching the girls leave, he turned to Twilight, handing it to her. She smiled with a nod, taking it, levitating a book from her saddle. It hovered in the air, flipping to its last page. The photo covered the bl tome flipped to its final page. Blank white became covered by the photograph.
“You look sad.”
Simple words.
Only those close can ever hope to say such things.
Much less receive a simple answer.
“I am sad, Spike,” Twilight said while turning on the hill, warmed grass rising against her hooves. “This is the last page of the book. And I…” Inhaling deeply, she turned away from him, seeing where her friends had once been. “…don’t think there’ll be another one.”
Twilight felt his smile. Felt his frame slink into hers. Strong arms crossed over her chest, a hug that nuzzled the back of her neck. His muzzle rested on her forehead, flattening her mane, veering to the side of her horn. Spike spoke softly and sincerely. “There’s always another book, Twilight. You, out of anypony, should know that.”
Twilight looked down inside his hold. “It won’t be the same.”
“It’s not supposed to.” Bitterness squeezed from those words. “But isn’t that what makes each book special?”
Twilight half-smiled without wanting to. “Maybe.”
The dragon sat behind her, and the mare fell into his lap, wiggling between his legs, resting against his chest. Both looked over the emerald hills to the setting sun. Breathing summer’s breeze. Indulging in the last of the sunlight. It wasn’t long before the sun lowered beneath the mountains. When it officially came to the end of the day.
But, despite the coming cold, the two, set together, remained warm.
“You can always go back.”
Twilight broke from her daze. Spike’s claws had claimed her forehooves, his talons feeling their shape, squeezing them. She looked up to see him staring afar. His expression was unreadable. It wasn’t often Twilight saw her assistant so serious.
“You might feel like the good times are over,” the dragon continued, lost in his gaze, but alive in his words, “but you made a lot of stories over the years, Twilight. Stories you and your friends made. Stories that can be read over and experienced again. Periods and times that you can always return to.”
Twilight watched him. Then looked at the book on the grass. The cooler wind flipped the pages of all the different photos, words, and memories of the past. Periods of bliss that, in a paragraph, she could live through again.
She then smiled, turning her head, nuzzling his chest, closing her eyes and exhaling a deep breath.
“I suppose you’re right.”
Twilight melted into his embrace.
“Spike?”
“Yeah, Twilight?”
“Are you upset you’re not in that photograph? That you’re not in a lot of them?”
“Not really.”
She pulled away from his chest, and this time, when she looked up, the dragon looked down. Twilight couldn’t help but ask him the question. “How come?”
His emerald eyes focused on hers, drowning in what they saw, a small smile appearing on his lips. His claw lifted from Twilight’s hoof to the side of her neck, holding her for a moment. Then, struggling to do so, he spoke. “Because you won't need a photograph to find me.”
Twilight chuckled. Nearly laughed with her eyes never leaving his. “Spike. That’s cheesy.”
His eyebrows quirked. “Would you have it any other way?”
“Of course not.”
The dragon rose a little bit after that, sweeping his claw beneath her neck and to the back of her legs, cradling her against him. Spike always had something of a thing for carrying her around. It was something he treasured. That he did whenever he could.
Something that, though Twilight teased him for, she enjoyed as well.
Without any more words, the dragon carried her home.
Author's Note
Farewell!
~ Yr. Pal, B
