Spike awoke to the faint light of dawn filtering through the curtains of the Carousel Boutique. The familiar creak of the floorboards beneath his claws reminded him of the years he’d spent preserving this place, though the memories it held felt heavier with each passing day. Stretching his wings, he ambled to the small sitting room where Discord was sprawled across an ancient couch. The draconequus looked oddly comfortable, though his long limbs dangled over the edges in an almost comical fashion.

“Still intact,” Spike muttered, nudging Discord gently. “Good to see Rarity’s craftsmanship holds up.”

Discord cracked one eye open, then groaned. “Morning already? Can’t chaos have a lie-in?”

Spike smirked. “Come on, lazybones. You’ve had your fun. Let’s go greet the day.”

With that, Spike stepped outside, taking in a deep breath of crisp morning air. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting the fields in golden light and leaving droplets of dew sparkling on the grass. He felt the cool wetness against his hind claws as he walked a few steps forward, marveling at the quiet beauty around him.

“What a beautiful day, huh?” Spike said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and melancholy. “I guess I have Celestia to thank for that.”

Discord appeared beside him, yawning exaggeratedly as he floated just above the ground. “Truly magnificent,” he said with a half-smile. “Not as chaotic as I prefer, but it’s nice. Predictable, though.”

Spike sighed, his gaze drifting to the horizon. “Equestria’s been too quiet, Discord. It still needs a little chaos. I don’t know—turn a filly’s book into cake, make a cloud rain chocolate. You know Pinkie would’ve appreciated it.”

Discord’s smile turned wistful, a rare softness crossing his features. “She would’ve. You’re right. I’ll see to it soon—perhaps a little sprinkle of delightful absurdity to keep things lively.”

“For now, we go,” Spike said, spreading his wings and taking off into the morning sky.

The wind whipped around them as they flew, carrying the scent of blooming flowers and fresh earth. Discord hovered alongside him effortlessly, his mismatched wings flapping in an oddly synchronized rhythm.

“Must be nice to have wings of your own,” Discord commented, eyeing Spike’s powerful wingspan.

“It is,” Spike replied, though his tone carried a hint of somberness. “I just wish they’d come a little sooner. Back when... well, you know.”

Discord didn’t press further, sensing the weight of Spike’s unspoken thoughts. Instead, they flew in companionable silence, the castle of Canterlot growing larger with each passing moment.

When they landed at the castle gates, the guards snapped to attention, their golden armor gleaming in the sunlight. Spike noticed their wide-eyed expressions as they took in the sight of him and Discord—a towering dragon and a draconequus were not everyday visitors, after all.

The lead guard stepped forward, clearing his throat nervously. “You’re—uh—both expected. Princess Celestia gave special orders to grant you entrance anytime.”

“Good to know she hasn’t forgotten us,” Discord quipped, flicking his tail playfully.

The gates swung open, and they made their way inside. The grand hall was just as Spike remembered—majestic and immaculately kept, though it felt quieter now, almost eerily so. As they entered the throne room, they saw Celestia seated on her dais, reading a scroll. Her ethereal mane shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows.

“Oh!” Celestia exclaimed, her regal composure slipping for just a moment. She set the scroll aside, rising to her hooves. “Spike. Discord. This is an unexpected but pleasant surprise.”

“Heya, Celestia,” Spike said, his deep voice carrying a note of nostalgia.

“Hey, Sunbutt,” Discord added with a cheeky grin.

Celestia chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that one.” Her expression softened, her tone tinged with warmth. “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen either of you. Not since dear Fluttershy passed, I believe.”

Discord’s smile faltered, the mention of Fluttershy stirring memories that still felt raw. Spike placed a reassuring claw on Discord’s shoulder. “Yeah,” Spike said. “We’ve been... taking some time to think. Reflecting, I guess.”

Celestia stepped down from her throne, her hooves echoing softly against the marble floor. “I understand. Loss has a way of demanding reflection. But I’m glad you’re here now.” Her gaze lingered on Spike. “You’ve grown even more, haven’t you?”

Spike nodded. “Yeah, I guess I have. Hard to notice it day by day, but I’m definitely bigger than the last time we visited.”

“And wiser, I imagine,” Celestia said with a gentle smile. She turned to Discord. “And you, Discord? How have you been faring?”

Discord twirled the scarf around his arm absentmindedly. “Oh, you know. Chaos here, chaos there. But it’s not quite the same without certain ponies around to appreciate it.”

Celestia’s expression grew somber, and she nodded in understanding. “It’s a strange thing, isn’t it? To outlive those who meant so much to us. Yet, we carry them with us in everything we do.”

Spike glanced at Discord, who gave a subtle nod. “That’s why we’re here,” Spike said. “We’ve been stuck in our routines, and... it just felt like time to reach out. To reconnect.”

Celestia’s smile returned, warm and welcoming. “You’re always welcome here, both of you. And I know Luna will be delighted to see you as well.”

“Speaking of which,” Discord said, looking around theatrically, “where is the little night owl?”

“She’s overseeing some diplomatic matters with the Kirin,” Celestia explained. “She’ll be back by evening.”

“Well, I suppose that gives us time to catch up,” Spike said. “It’s been years since I’ve walked these halls.”

Celestia’s eyes sparkled. “Then let me show you around. Some things have changed, but I think you’ll find many things as you remember them.”

As they followed Celestia through the castle, Spike felt a bittersweet wave of nostalgia wash over him. Every corner, every tapestry, and every corridor held memories—of Twilight, of the Elements, of adventures that once felt eternal. Discord, too, seemed quieter than usual, his eyes flicking toward little details that might have gone unnoticed by others.

“Do you ever feel it?” Spike asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “The weight of time?”

Celestia paused, turning to look at him. “Every day,” she admitted softly. “But it’s not just a burden. It’s also a gift—a reminder of what we’ve shared, and what we can still do.”

Spike nodded, her words sinking in. They continued their tour, the three of them walking together through the castle that had seen so much of their shared history.

For a moment, as the sunlight streamed through the windows and laughter echoed faintly in the halls, it almost felt like the old days.

But only almost.

Author's Note

HOLY SHIT I COMPLETELY FORGOT PINKIE PIES DEATH (I will add that to One Left in a minute oml I’m so dumb.)