Do Right by You

Starlight Glimmer scans a parchment glittered with dust and browns that splattered across its surface. Fresh words and fresh ink adorn the page, the faint scent of dragonfire lingering long after its delivery the day before. The words are a haze in her mind—an illegible, informal announcement that looped for the better part of an hour. She’s sure she has it memorized by now.

Light peeks through the window to greet her, and the letter burns yellow. She turns.

For a brief moment, the mirror came into view. Recent photographs were placed in its crevices, while the older ones appeared a little worse for wear behind it.

Starlight disliked how a new crease seemed to appear every time she checked, so she had stopped meddling with the pictures. Ironically, there was no mention of the alicorn, considering it had been a gift from her—or at least, nothing that would indicate they'd ever met in the present.

But exactly three months had passed since the ruler of Equestria conducted her annual check-in at the School of Friendship. Four months? The details were muddled, buried beneath the fissure she had carved for herself.

It wasn’t that the princess was cold or distant… Far from it. She had stood by Starlight the entire time the event occurred, as had all her friends, but it was entirely impersonal.

Compliments came as easily as breathing. You’re doing great, they’d all say. The sentiment was general, but she never failed to slip in a reminder that Starlight deliberately ignored: “I’m always here for you when you need me.”

Subtle hoofsteps permeate her stupor, the aimless walking grounding her to the room, reminding her that she is not in the company of its author.

Knock-knock.

“Starlight? Are you awake? I’m about to go,” a muffled voice calls from the other side of the door. Her magic effortlessly slammed it open as she trots toward her roommate.

Sunburst is taken aback by the abrupt swing, his glasses tilts askew in response and readjusts them to see her furrowed brow glued to the paper.

"You sure you don’t wanna walk me down the train station?" Sunburst asks.

“No, no, they could arrive here at any moment.”

“How many times have you read that? Even I have my limits.” He tries for a casual tone, but it comes across as more bothered than anything.

Starlight finally locks eyes with him.

“Sorry,” she whispers, placing the letter on her desk. The parchment flutters slightly.

They walk along the twists and turns of the castle hallways, as they have done countless times before. Its crystal walls seem to intermingle with summer's air, like iron against a seething anvil. If it were any hotter, beads of sweat would be dripping down her face in a matter of seconds.

It was a mystery how Sunburst never betrayed his signature cloak.

The foyer was now in plain view, and she stared for a minute, eyeing her friend's sparingly few belongings that lay near the front entrance. Over the years, Sunburst had learned to carry less with him, but this was less than usual. It appears as though he won't be needing the extra help.

“Say hi to Flurry Heart for me,” she starts. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled by your surprise visit.” Sunburst nods rapidly, his lips perked eternally at the notion.

“Yeah, can’t wait,” he says. “And I’m sure the princess and her royal advisor are going to enjoy their stay!”

“Well, whatever they’ve got planned is unclear, but I’ll bet on that,” Starlight puts on a half-hearted smile.

Sunburst steps closer and wraps a forehoof around her withers, she leans in to reciprocate, taking in the warmth of his hug before he let go. Magic encases the luggage, carrying it with him as he walks toward the open doors of the castle. Starlight follows leisurely behind, stopping just where the threshold leads to the outside.

“Hope you do. I think you'll need it,” he responds, adjusting his already-fixed glasses. “Hold the fort while I’m away.”

She rolls her eyes and nods. “Goodbye, Sunburst.”

He waves back wordlessly, his retreating figure already a memory in her mind—just like everything else in this castle. Now it was time to wait.

A pair of wings casts a shadow over a small town; the silhouette moves gracefully along the pathways. He heaves a cloud of smoke as the smell of home hangs in the air, then he lands.

The visitor strides through the dirt, each step bringing a solid thud to the ground. His golden medallion ruffles from side to side, its notable sigil says that he is important, and his brisk pace says that he is in a hurry.

He waves to the prying eyes seeking his attention, and they wave back, but nopony dares to call out to him.

The school calendar wasn’t difficult to make, as it already had a set schedule in place for the entire year. All that remained to do was plan out the events in between, manage the finances, handle class placements, and take care of everything else necessary to run the place. The quill hovered mid-air, pausing as Starlight leaned back to get a better view of her work. She figured she would start ahead of time as a way to, well, pass the time.

She stares.

And she stares for a long, long moment, until the words smear under the weight of her gaze.

Another blur, another haze in her mind.

Starlight feels herself blinking hard, then she blows a raspberry. One thing of note: her hornwriting has improved significantly. Four agonizing years of the same paperwork demanded it.

A faint knock on the door echoes through the castle and her ears twitch—an unmistakable arrival. She flashes out of the library and back into the foyer. If she hadn’t been lounging around waiting for somepony, she might have grown deaf to it from habit.

A strong turn of teal aura popped the door open, and light intrudes on the dim interior, save for the towering shadow before her that shields her eyesight.

"Starlight!" the dragon exclaims, her name garbled by the stuff he was carrying. He hastily set it down and closed the distance to hug her. "It's so good to see you.”

"Spike—" she staggers; the unrelenting embrace doesn't allow her to topple over completely. "Good to see you too.” His almost burly stature has her disoriented as the boy releases his grip. It's like that baby dragon is still piloting his every move.

"Do you want hayburgers?" Spike says almost immediately. "Homemade, that is. Bought the ingredients on the way here." He dangles the groceries to her face.

“Woah there, big guy, slow down. Where’s…”

“Oh right, she’s still in Canterlot taking care of a few things. You know how it is.” Spike puffs up his chest, a sort of pride seeping through each word he says. Oh, but of course, the princess remains occupied with her duties to Equestria. It's not unusual for her to come in late, and there's nothing to fault in that. Not now, not ever.

Starlight levitates the rest of the stuff he brought, one of them being an earthy-colored sack that had his claws full earlier. She gives it a shake—its weight making it a little difficult—but hears the sound of gems clashing against each other, pure noise rattling.

She shoots him a look.

“You’re not getting a piece,” he reassures her.

As they arrive at the kitchen, Spike arranges all the ingredients in a neat line. He begins working his way like clockwork, turning on the stove before he even starts on the chopping board, which he does right after, leaving the pan to heat up. He seemed to bet on it like a timer, and Starlight watches on, her mouth slightly agape.

She clears her throat. “D-do you want me to help?”

“Sure. Could you pass me a few things?” Spike points to several things. But nevertheless, her magical assistance aids in his rhythm; utensils and chopped tomatoes float in the air as he grabs them at every turn.

She'd never been stellar in the kitchen, more so the manual aspect of it all, but the way Spike has it under control isn't a foreign concept. Only now that the dragon is as tall as his pony friends, was he able to reach a lot of the stuff that he was unable to a few years back.

The boy slaps the hay onto the pan; it sizzles as the moisture burns to smoke. He breathes in the aroma.

Starlight decided to clean up the minimal mess he had left behind, much to her surprise. Afterward, she slid two platters onto opposite ends of the kitchen island, the ceramic scraping against fine wood.

She moseys over to Spike. “When did you learn to move like that?”

“The royal chefs are eager to have me under their tutelage,” Spike flips the hay to the other side, prompting another sizzle. “And my dear old sister barely has the time to help herself. I fill in on that front… as usual.”

“And all that for hayburgers. I’m charmed,” Starlight suppresses a smirk.

“Hah! I'll have you know that these aren't just ordinary hayburgers,” he says, elbowing her lightly. “These are Spike-made!”

The stove shuts off with a thwump as the pan tilts, dropping the main course onto a bottom bun. The mayo catches it like a fly trap while scaly claws swiftly build the rest of the burger. Once assembled, the chopping board tilts, sending the hayburgers flying onto their platters. Spike flashes a toothy grin at the unicorn. “Spike-made,” he reiterates.

Starlight stomps her hooves in applause as the dragon bows, his wings unfurling in a dramatic display.

They make their way to the hayburgers. Spike then opens the sack, sticking his tongue out as he grabs a clawful of gem bits, sprinkling them onto the top bun like sesame seeds.

He steals a bite. “So, Glimmer, what troubles you?”

Starlight has yet to touch hers. “Huh?”

“You've been kinda out of it the entire time,” he points an accusatory finger. A shadow is cast over his eyes as the light beams into him. Starlight forms an "O" shape with her mouth, and her ears droop as his pointer hovers just centimeters away from her snout.

“Sorry, I'm just really confused.”

“About what?” Another bite.

“Well, you both said you wanted to spend a few days here, in the castle, with me, but without really elaborating. What am I supposed to get from that? What does it mean?” She breaks eye contact, and Starlight pokes her hayburger. She wants to find the conviction to eat the meal he prepared, but her stomach churns at the thought of what he might say.

“It means what it says.”

She feels herself blinking hard, her eyes darting toward the boy beside her. An empty platter lies in waste, his claws retreating back to the gems like dessert. If it were anypony else, he might have seemed deeply unengaged.

“No thanks to my big mouth. Again,” he mutters, wiping off any excess that remained on his palms. “But, you know, we just do like old times.” Spike catches himself, placing a claw on her withers.

A weary smile paints his features, and it's not one of pity, nor the kind that tries for damage control. it was familiar, and it was quiet, and he seemed to know why she's even done the things she does. He reads her like a book. “Whatever you wanna say right now, save it for the princess. She'll want to hear it.” He slid her platter closer.

She exhaled, long overdue. It's funny how that works. This time, though, he doesn't prod, allowing Starlight to take her own steps. Even if those other times, when he did prod, had helped.

She takes a bite. The warmth never left as the flavors danced on her tongue. It was, indeed, Spike-made.