Awards of the Heart

Chapters

Camaraderie and Confessions
Pause and Reset
The Wisdom of Kindness Pt. 1
The Wisdom of Kindness Pt. 2
At the Corner of Forever
Prisoners and Poisoning
End of the Line
The Dressmaker's Displeasure

Camaraderie and Confessions

Awards of the Heart: Camaraderie and Confessions – by Twifight Sparkill

Twilight Sparkle remained alone in the Ponyville library, her companions and faithful assistant off tending to the matters that were required of them – from now on, her daily regimen would consist almost solely upon the intense study of advanced magical applications, unless she was otherwise required. Book after book, from hypothesis and theory to practice and result, she would have to research these matters with all the fervor she could muster to move on to the next level of her studies – whatever they may be.

“You weren’t willing to risk the future of the citizens of the Crystal Empire in an effort to guarantee your own,” Celestia had declared, the Elements of Harmony returning to Canterlot as decorous victors against yet another seemingly insurmountable threat. “Far better that I have a student who understands the meaning of self-sacrifice than one who only looks out for her own best interests.”

Twilight recalled the moment it happened quite poignantly. She had been left a critical decision to make, all but trapped up atop the dizzying heights of Crystal Castle amidst the climax of their struggle – having no other recourse than to send Spike in her stead, she was forced to risk his life in delivering the missing Crystal Heart despite Celestia’s insistence she alone would be responsible for saving the Empire.

Though through trial they defeated the evil King Sombra, freeing the enslaved crystalline ponies from their millennia-long banishment, a strange and pained feeling of intense pressure persisted in her chest. It followed her all the way from Canterlot, back to Ponyville and eventually the library. It felt as if a nagging, thick knot had been drawn tight and refused to relent – it caused her all manner of distress and distraction.

The next morning, after Spike had unceremoniously coughed up an official letter from the Secretary to Princess Cadance imploring he attend a hero’s banquet and award ceremony in his honor, it occurred to the lavender unicorn that something traumatic happened when she’d opened King Sombra’s magical door below the throne room – she was struck by the powerful illusory trap set atop it, forced to suffer a particularly heart-rending depiction of Princess Celestia dismissing her as both student and friend, which had left her absolutely devastated. Thankfully Spike was able to break the spell, but perhaps the sheer shock to Twilight’s psyche needed time to recoup. It made logical sense.

Come the following morning, looking and feeling awful, she elected to further investigate the issue.

The thick discomfort had slightly subsided, so Twilight elected to subject herself to a more clinical method of diagnosis: spending literal painstaking hours of intensified scientific analysis hooked up to the contraption she’d built in her basement. She strapped herself into the scanner, surrounded by all manner of whirring parts spouting pulleys and wires, and waited as the printer connected to the apparatus coughed out sheet after sheet of raw scientific data to analyze. Once correlated and interpreted, having considering all the possibilities available via cold scientific fact, she was left with only one possible conclusion:

“I was resentful of Spike,” she stated matter-of-factly, “and am now left feeling really, really guilty about it.”

Wait, what? She stared at her findings in sheer disbelief. Why would I ever resent Spike?

After carefully considering all the available facts – at least ten times, to be thorough – she determined that despite previous missions involving outrageous dangers and dubious survival, this was the very first time she’d felt her standing with Princess Celestia actually threatened. Because of the threat to her lavish appointment as scholar and scientist, she hated that her meager assistant could have cost her the lavish livelihood she'd worked so hard to achieve.

Did Celestia’s approval actually mean more to her than anyone or anything else? Even the closest friend she'd ever had?

She remembered being scared during her time on the train quite clearly. Once having bid Shining Armor an impassioned farewell at the station, everyone then gathered aboard the Express for the trip back to Canterlot. The others quieted in subdued conversation, leaving Twilight alone with her thoughts whilst absently cradling her beloved assistant. As the train clicked along at a leisurely pace, a torrent of nagging doubts began to subjugate the fleeting feelings of accomplishment she'd had just moments before – what had she done? For bidding Spike abandon her and return the Crystal Heart himself, she had assuredly surrendered her ardent tenure and position in Celestia’s tutelage. The very thought left her sick to her stomach, leaving the nervous unicorn awash with fretting regrets and harrowing assumptions.

Had she made the biggest mistake of her life by not saving the Empire herself? She’d wondered. No! Of course not! Yet the result certainly didn’t appear to bode well for her passing the Princess' test now.

Spike had always been a vassal and confidant; once old enough to be returned to the young filly that’d hatched him, the two were inseparable – they knew each other as intimately and completely as siblings, and that bond had grown into a very unique and special relationship. He was as much her very best friend, admittedly knowing her better than she knew herself, as an irreplaceable colleague; he was always there for her, no matter what.

Did I make a fatal mistake by letting him save the day instead?

Wait, hold on. How could she be losing control now, especially since having faced four of the most dangerous villains Equestria had ever known, to a notion so outrageously selfish and petty? Certainly, Celestia would know she had no other choice, having been caught in a cage of crystal, but to usher the dragon onward without her! Right? Surely she must!

While Spike dozed, it became a very long train ride for Twilight. The lavender unicorn sat and fretted, simply unable to imagine how she'd manage if no longer a royal protégé – it genuinely frightened her. What would she do if she’d actually failed the test? Having devoted so much attention and time to her studies via a royal appointment, it had never occurred to her what else she could possibly be capable of.

Her cutie mark denoted magic, her name spoke of stars... she did like astronomy, come to think. Could she just stare at the stars all night? She’d be categorizing constellations, tracking subtle movements, traversing through the various infrared or ultraviolet spectrums noting any interruptions or variances that'd indicate the movement of a celestial body, then categorizing and cataloging the entirety every sleepless night? Perhaps, perhaps – she didn’t mind working well into nightfall, having done it so many times before. It could be a sufficient surrogate if needed to be. Couldn’t it?

Twilight inwardly knew the matter to be pointless. She adamantly adored studying and performing magic more than anything else. She had a natural affinity for it, becoming so adept that she could literally learn a spell by simply watching it. There was no other choice in the matter!

From the time she could flip the pages of a book, she was already well on her way towards a lifetime of studying and utilizing sorcery. It made life a little easier, knowing exactly what you were meant to do since before you could walk, she figured. Quite efficient, though irrefutably rebarbative if ever threatened.

Trying to dismiss the insisting twinge of guilt, for the time being at least, she put aside her findings to concentrate upon her latest manuscript: a technical piece regarding unspecified spacial relations and teleportation results.

“... upon activation of the spell, it is commonly accepted by the caster that they should be innately aware of their destination via sensual memory for the sake of safety, yet it’s impossible to specifically determine once committed as to what matter may have spacially changed within the determined destination – in a furnished room for example, any tables being relocated or chairs having been added or removed, any foreign objects would present a very nearly cost myself everything making me question my loyalty as a friend to Spike because I’m the worst pony in the world and...”

“...what? Oh, drat!” Twilight groaned, reviewing the document before heaving it into a nearby waste basket.

What had gotten into her? After mimicking Celestia’s example in casting the strange dark magic Sombra had used, everything was harder to concentrate on and nothing felt quite the same. Nothing appeared as vibrant, seemed as friendly, or… remained as innocent. She had needed that spell to gain entrance into the caverns below the Crystal Palace, but she'd regretted learning it ever since. She’d even experienced brief flashes in her vision, noticed the tinge of green to her eyes in reflective surfaces – she'd have to discuss the matter with Princess Celestia at Spike’s award ceremony if it persisted. Dark magic was a very foreign material of study for Twilight, and it was always best to proceed with caution when it came to matters of black sorcery.

The librarian mare breathed a long sigh, putting her quill and ink back in their case. She'd learned so much about friendship over the years, yet no matter how resolute the outcome, there were often niggling matters that muddled her faith in ever comprehending the definition of friendship – this needed to be dealt with now, and everything else would have to wait.

She stood straight, stretched out the kinks in her muscles, and began to pace as plans formulated.

“Okay Twilight,” she hummed, looking about the library, “settle down. When Spike gets home, we’ll make everything right. Maybe prepare tea and crumpets to set a relaxed mood? Yes, good idea. We’ll both sit down, I’ll admit that I had some petty jealousy issues about the entire Crystal Heart matter, my thinking his heroism nearly cost me my cushy librarian stint, and we can get on with our lives. Perfect!”

Having heard the summation spoken out loud, Twilight winced – that was awful. She'd be just as well off saying, “Oh Spike, I was supposed to be the hero! If Celestia failed me in my studies, I would never forgive you because I'm obviously a very bad friend and you should hate me forever! Sound good? So glad we had this talk!”

This would obviously take more careful planning; some serious forethought, mature introspection, and ultimately a very heartfelt admittance that had started to bother her more than the guilt itself. Why exactly did everything have to be so darn complicated? If only friendship came with a complete guide… aside from the one she’d been devising during her tenure in Ponyville, naturally. All Twilight could do now was hope that Spike was a better manner of friend than she apparently was.

“… maybe I should get some balloons and a plate of crystal cookies for good measure,” she wondered. “Ugh, I have got to stop talking to myself. It's creepy!”

It was an awkward walk back from Rarity’s Carousel Boutique for Spike. Having endured a severe lecture on the matters and manners of friendship, and his apparent misunderstandings of such, he wasn't even aware of the rainbow-maned pegasus that’d been trotting alongside him for several minutes.

“Hey!” She finally spoke. “Reality to Spike – come in Spike! Are You gonna just keep ignoring me or what? Funny, Applejack does that all the time. She’s allergic to awesome, though, I so get that now. Must be something in the apples or whatever.”

“Yipes!” The dragon stopped, freezing in place, throwing up his arms protectively. “No autographs please!”

Dash cackled wildly at the dragon’s reaction, falling sideways with raucous laughter.

“Okay, that was hilarious! Wow, Rarity sure did a number on you! Poor little guy, hee hee!” After a moment, she popped back to her hooves, wiped her tears, and smiled at him.

“Wuh-what? Oh! Sorry!” Spike gathered his wits and finally addressed his multi-hued friend. “Hi, Rainbow Dash. I was um… thinking, right. About whatever you just said. What’s up?”

The azure pegasus simply smirked, shouldering him roughly as they started walking up the cobbled path again.

“I was just flying by, happened to notice that a local hero was dragging his heels from the Carousel Boutique.” She grinned. “Let me guess, ol’ Rarity forced you to prance around all chic and magnifique in her latest pièce de résistance? Yeah, I know that look – hey, at least you got out of there in one… pièce! Get it?”

“Sort of,” he mused. “Nice Rarity impression, very funny. Let’s just say that it was an experience and leave it at that, if it's all the same to you.”

The tone of Spike’s voice made Rainbow hesitate a moment, though she quickly waived any concerns.

“So how’s the suit looking?” she queried. “I bet you look pretty darn cool in it, huh? Must be pretty exciting, what with your big day coming up! At least, this time, it's not me getting all brushed and coiffured – you get that honor, lucky guy! Heh, all perfumed and fussed over like some cute little fire-breathing doll, won't that be fun? Heh heh heh!”

“Yeah, super fun,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “Rarity seems to be okay with the suit, I don’t know… I’ve never worn clothes much, so if she’s happy I guess I’m happy.” Spike heaved a long sigh. “I don’t know about much of anything right now, sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”

The pegasus quirked a brow, looking puzzled.

“Okay, now hang on one feather-plucking minute,” she grumbled. “Something is way wrong here, and I’m not getting the problem. Are you... like, upset about being a hero?”

“Maybe?” Spike waved the question off. “You know, just… not too sure about all the attention I guess. It’s getting so I can’t even walk down the street without somepony stopping me and bringing the whole ordeal up! They ask questions, tell me how great I am, all that stuff… ugh! I just want my life to be back the way it was, you know?”

“Hey, nopony ever said being a hero was easy.” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “It’s nothing to get all weirded out over though, trust me! In time you’re gonna love it! We just have to get you through the next few days is all. We go to the Crystal Empire, Cadance gives you a medal, and everything goes back to normal. I promise!”

Spike didn’t appear convinced.

“Okay, look at it this way,” Rainbow leaned close. “If someone like Twilight can deal with being a national hero, so can you! I mean, she gets all freaked out about everything, right? If she can stand in front of a gazillion ponies and get a big shiny award, so can you! Trust me, you’ll be okay Spike. If you can handle hosting the Hearth Warming's Eve pageant, you can totally do this.”

“... it’s not the same”, he grumbled. “I played a part in that. This is… real.”

Once the pair had made it within the Ponyville marketplace, they both noticed a hush amongst the gathered crowd – shoppers and business owners alike went silent as they walked past, causing Spike to wince. The streets were bustling with ponies, and it appeared all eyes had fallen on him.

“There he is!” A pony said quietly, smiling broadly and pointing. “That’s totally him, I recognize his photo from the paper!”

“Is that really him?” another asked her friend. “He’s the one who saved the Crystal Empire? Aw! Look at how small he is! He’s so adorable!”

Soon the entire gathering in the bazaar was collected about Spike and Rainbow Dash, pointing and commenting and touching at him – it was a veritable sea of activity that’d come in like some maddened tide. He could only throw his arms up in a weak attempt to buffet the crashing wave, desperately wishing it would all just go away.

“Please,” he whispered, “make it stop.”

“Stand back!” A loud voice suddenly commanded in a stern growl. “Move along you crazy herd of rubber-neckers! There’s nothing to see here, just a guy trying to get home in one piece! G’wan back to your business! Everything is under control! Keep moving!”

Spike popped an eye open. Rainbow was diving and yelling, ushering the crowd back and away from them with expert maneuverings. She flapped about, waving her hooves in an exaggerated fashion, forcing the onlookers back and away from the frightened dragon as she would dismiss a collection of misdirected cumulus.

He breathed a long, grateful sigh as the ponies finally returned to their business, most of them muttering about being so roughly treated.

“Whew, thanks for the crowd control,” Spike smiled gently, making a hastened march for the library. “This has been happening far too much over the last couple of days. I don’t know how you guys put up with it!”

“Yep, well it’s tough work to be this awesome all the time,” Dash admitted immodestly, scrubbing her chest with a forehoof. “Being this cool takes some serious practice. Don’t sweat it, I’ll keep you safe until we reach the library, and then maybe I’ll give you a few pointers.”

Spike nodded a bit, finally feeling a slight more comfortable since leaving his raucous fitting previous. “The library! It’ll sure be nice to go back to something normal,” he hummed. “I really can’t wait ‘til all these ponies quit making such a big deal out of this – it’s getting embarrassing, you know? It’s just not my style.”

“You can’t wait for normal?” The pegasus wondered at that in disbelief, following a few steps behind the dragon. “C'mon Spike, everypony needs to celebrate a hero! You can't blame folks for getting excited! Just… well, look at Twilight and the Princess, for example. Or everypony in Equestria and me!”

Rainbow giggled ruefully.

“Just trust me on this, it’s all good. You'll understand after the ceremony.” Rainbow tapped him on the shoulder, giving the dragon a knowing wink. “In the meanwhile, I got your back Spike. Let’s get you to the library before anyone gets out of hoof – I don’t want to have to get physical, but I will!” she grunted, striking a boxing stance and throwing a few quick jabs in display.

Spike just grinned, shaking his head.

“I feel better already.”

Twilight paced impatiently. How was she going to broach the subject without sounding like an ingrate? This was Spike she was talking about – of all the friends she knew, he was the only one who could accept her fault and forgive her. Right? He knew she wasn't a spotlight-hogging glory hound or a flighty self-serving coward! ... right? Ooh, this was awful. She was so terrible, she wasn't even giving him the benefit of the doubt! But... what if this was the last straw? Wonderful, understanding, emphatic Spike... did she even deserve his forgiveness?

“Maybe a few streamers, a big banner? That would totally work!” Pinkie exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “Oh yeah, a big howdoyado as soon as he walks through the door! That’s how you make someone know how special they are!”

“You are so right,” the lavender mare admitted. “As ever, there’s only one pony who knows how to fix an awkward issue with a few ribbons and bows. I’m so glad I asked…”

The two mares stared at each other; Twilight in disbelief, Pinkie Pie with a telltale smirk.

The unicorn jumped a few feet backward in unbridled shock.

“Pinkie!” she screeched! “When did… how did you… what are you doing here?”

The pink earth pony leaped about the library, fastening balloons and streamers.

“I had a premonition,” she stated matter-of-factly. “My left eye twitched, my tail swung about, and suddenly I knew that you wanted to make amends with Spike! I don’t really know why, but… hey, do I have enough purple and green decorations? I don’t usually do a lot of green and purple together! I just knew somepony needed my services, and here I am! Fun fun fun!” Pinkie squealed.

Once recovered from the initial shock, Twilight considered her plight – yes, she definitely needed help with this. Yes, Pinkie Pie was the bonafide party pony with all the answers when it came to… anything requiring a party. Was this some sort of coincidence that defied logic and reasoning? Again, yes. Should the subject be concerning enough to subjugate and study via various scientific apparatus? Maybe later.

“I appreciate whatever help I can get,” the librarian admitted humbly. “Thanks, Pinkie.”

“Aw, don’t get all emotional!” The fuchsia mare scolded for Twilight’s serious expression. “If we’re gonna get this done in time, we have to stay focused! Say, do you have a spare helium tank?”

Twilight blinked. “… I don't believe so.”

“You’re not very well prepared for emergencies, are you?” Pinkie frowned, producing one from below the library’s floorboards. “You’re lucky I had a spare laying around – you can thank me later.”

Twilight would've likely spent the next few hours trying to figure out how Pinkie got a tank of compressed gas under the library, if not for the severity of the situation.

“Um, woohoo?”

To Be Continued.

Pause and Reset

Awards of the Heart: Pause and Reset – by Twifight Sparkill

Having slipped through the rest of Ponyville without further incident, inasmuch in part for Rainbow Dash's thwarting any encroaching parties as for the pair taking an extremely far-reaching course of narrow alleyways and side roads through the boroughs, both Spike and his pegasus escort eventually reached the Golden Oaks Library unscathed.

Certainly the matter of his current status as hero of the recently reinstated Crystal Empire had been well documented and remained very much a topic of interest amongst the townsfolk, not to mention all of Equestria, but the constant showering of praise and accolades had worn the modest young dragon down to the barest nerve; the entire subject had begun to complicate his otherwise quiet life to a point of desperation. At least now, delivered safely home by a watchful Rainbow Dash, he might find a semblance of peace. Of normalcy. Doldrum and routine would soothe his flailing anxieties, he was certain, as they always had in the past whenever he felt tense or stressed.

Oh boy, was he stressed.

Spike stood outside the library for a long while, having gotten as far as the front stoop before coming to an abrupt halt. He stared at its heavy wooden door with trepidation, regarding it with a decidedly pained expression.

"So... are we, like, waiting for something in particular?" she queried, nudging the dragon impatiently. "Let's go already. While I'm young!"

"Hold on. I can hear Pinkie and Twilight talking in there," Spike noted, pressing his head to the door for a better listen. "It sounds like... they're planning a party?"

"Wow, now there's a shocker!" Rainbow admonished, rolling her eyes dramatically. "That's the last thing I'd expect from Ponyville's premiere party pony! Next you'll be telling me Applejack is mindlessly obsessed with fruit, or that Fluttershy is wa-a-a-y too into animals! Who'd ever believe that? Sheesh!"

The purple dragon ignored his companion's gruff sarcasm, listening instead to the conversation going on inside. Once having apparently heard enough, Spike touched at the door, then backed away from it.

"I'm not going in." he stated softly.

Rainbow pressed a hoof to her forehead, managing a low growl in utter frustration.

"We whuh-what... why aren't we going in?" she stammered in displeasure. "We just spent the last good hours sneaking all over Ponyville to get you here without being mobbed by crazy ponies, and... you're not even going to go inside? They're throwing you a party, for Celestia's sake! What the hay, Spike? Did I miss something in translation or what?"

Spike sighed, turned on his heel, and meandered back down the pathway from whence they'd previously come.

"They're apparently planning some sort of a party for me in there, from what I just heard, and... I really don't feel up to it, Rainbow."

The cyan pegasus simply gawked at the little dragon in utter disbelief, fluttering unconsciously alongside him as he moved from the library to the dirt paths that led out towards the wooded boundaries surrounding the town.

"Hmpf," Rainbow Dash sniffed haughtily. "I wish ponies'd throw me a surprise party once in a while. What'd they say exactly?"

"Something about purple and green streamers," he shrugged absently, "and making amends I think? Whatever that means. Anyway, I'm sorry for wasting your time, Rainbow Dash. I appreciate all your help today, and the chat helped, but... I really need to be alone right now."

The pegasus fell quiet, judging Spike's expression with thoughtful concern.

"... it's okay," she responded sagely. "I get you. You're feeling overwhelmed and even though your friends are trying to make you happy, you won't be happy until you can make sense of your situation. That's reasonable. I guess a party of frantic ponies doesn't really help much, heh. Though seriously, how come nopony ever throws me a cool surprise party for no reason? Sheesh!"

"Thanks for understanding," Spike grinned a bit, nodding emphatically. "You're a good friend, and I truly appreciate it."

"Well, that all goes without saying," the pegasus chuckled ruefully, "though sometimes it's nice to hear. You're gonna be okay, right?"

The dragon nodded.

"I will be. Eventually. Thanks."

Rainbow nodded, pumped her wings a few times, then veered skyward.

"If you need to talk again, don't hesitate to ask, hm? Never too busy to help a friend! You can count on ol' Dash, believe it!" she called out, eventually disappearing into the endless blue of the clear afternoon sky. "Just remember – everything works itself out in the end! Later gator!"

Spike continued to wave goodbye as she slowly disappeared from view, then set towards a long walk with his thoughts.

"... I wish it was the end," Spike sighed.

Pinkie sat inside by the library door, adorned in the party favor finery she preferred – pointy polka-dot hat worn edgeways, deely-bobbers primed, noisemakers and a hoofful of confetti at the ready – as Twilight paced nervously about wondering where Spike could have ended up.

Here was her best chance, amidst a possible grand and professional procession (if anything Pinkie concocted could ever be considered remotely close to professional) to relent and seek forgiveness for her unreasonable feelings regarding the Crystal Heart fiasco. Certainly, things had eventually worked in the favor of the Element's heroism, but it paled in excuse compared to the biting remorse she had felt for letting Spike threaten her existence as confidant and pupil of ponydom's grand sovereign.

The pain and guilt of such continued to gnaw at her gut, and she'd gone from fretting and remorseful to bitter and irritated – wait, when had that happened? Yes, Spike was supposed to be here ages ago, but... she was theoretically apologizing and his unprecedented delay had complicated the matter. At the moment, all she felt was a necessity to viciously berate the young dragon for keeping her waiting for so long. Er... that wasn't right, surely?

Was it?

"Any minute now..." Pinkie whispered as she had every few minutes since fitting the library with all the banners and streamers it could possibly manage.

The waiting wore on Twilight, who absently just wanted to be done with the whole mess so she could move on to what was expected of her – painful, unending studiousness. How was she supposed to continue to absorb the necessary magical require in the tomes she'd borrowed from Canterlot and beyond if she couldn't manage to get past this simple gesture of passing regret?

Damn you, Spike. Where have you gotten to?

"... any minute now was about an hour ago," Twilight finally groused. "Obviously this was a wasted effort. He probably got sidetracked into following whatever whim Rarity had cross her needy little mind. Hmpf, the nerve! After all we'd planned! It makes me so... so angry!"

Pinkie turned and regarded her friend cautiously for the rise in her voice, noting not just the venomous tone – Twilight never spoke ill of anypony, especially not her beloved dragon – but the billowing black flares that set aflame from her unusual emerald-shaded eyes.

"Um, hey there grumpy-pants," the festivity-driven earth pony offered, "did you know your eyes are really spooky?"

Twilight blanched.

It had happened again.

Buck.

"Oh! Um, sorry!" the lavender unicorn excused. "I er... I mean, I wonder where Spike got off to? It's not like him to be so late! I'm worried about him!"

Pinkie raised a brow in dubious repose, though eventually shrugged the moment aside once Twilight had regained her appropriate humdrum appearance.

"Hey, how about we take this party on the road? We'll make it an official Ponyville dragon hunt! Ooh ooh ooh! Can I carry the banners and play the trumpet? I'm good at both! Puh-lease?"

"Sure, whatever," Twilight appeased. "Spike better have a good excuse for making us wait, though."

Pinkie watched the purple unicorn closely and found herself slightly unnerved for her uncommonly dour demeanor.

"... right," Pinkie nodded. "We'll find Spikie and make this right... I hope."

The two ponies collected packs and a few necessities, then trotted down the path towards Ponyville. Pinkie remained silent throughout, though Twilight paid no particular notice.

There were more pressing matters at stake, she figured. That was certain.

To be Continued.

The Wisdom of Kindness Pt. 1

Awards of the Heart: The Wisdom of Kindness Pt. 1 – by Twifight Sparkill

Pinkie Pie trailed vigilantly behind her petulant purple partner as they traversed the bustling Ponyville marketplace thoroughfare, though she'd pause periodically to greet any passerby she recognized – which subsequently amounted to noticing nearly every pony in the bazaar. Twilight's demeanor had become particularly prickly since they'd left the library in search of Spike, so she was mindful to keep quiet and any socializing politely terse. Eventually, the pair were moving towards Rarity's Boutique, located along the expensive district outskirts.

"... he's not here, Pinkie." the purple unicorn declared, coming to an abrupt halt in front of the store without so much as a glance towards it.

Pinkie had to take a few steps backward to respond, having unknowingly skipped by.

"He's not here where?" She flattened her face against a window, peering about the interior.

Admittedly, the fuchsia earth pony didn't know what the hay was going on beyond the barest facts; something about an apology and a missing dragon? That hardly mattered compared to the brevity of Twilight's sullen mettle – ever committed and resolute, Pinkie was dedicated to helping her friends no matter the crises or hardships, and so their current trek had led here thus far without any interruptions or nagging questions... from Pinkie. Until now, that is.

Twilight turned and started north, avoiding the dress shop altogether.

"I need to rectify this issue immediately," she muttered despondently.

"Okee-dokey!" replied Pinkie.

At least there were lots of things to look at and appreciate during their seemingly guideless jaunt through the boroughs. The tranquil townscape constantly changed, offering a completely different experience with each step or turn of the head. There were so many things happening all at once; ponies moving, ponies working, ponies living. The architecture played silhouetted against an uncut azure sky... Big Mac scratching his butt whilst in a queue at the pharmacy.

Distractions notwithstanding, Pinkie knew she had to escort Twilight for the time being. It was better for everyone involved, she figured, as Twilight could be prone to strong fits of yelling when irate or aroused from deep thought, and all her senses pointed towards something beyond even those recorded extremes.

Directly ahead of them now was the local train station, busy with pony bodies going to and from their particular destinations, awash with noise and excitement and frustration and everything akin to sordid railed travel. Passing a few slumbering ponies slumped in benches aside their luggage whilst waiting between departures, the two came to the ticket counter reserved for distant travel.

"Two tickets for Canterlot," Twilight murmured at the nonplussed sales pony behind the ironwork blind. "Preferably near the dining cart, if you please."

Pinkie hovered nearby, grinning from ear to ear – this was going to be an awesomely interesting trip, she was quite surely convinced.

"So, did Spike go to Canterlot?" she asked, finding herself unable to stay still or silent any longer.

"No," Twilight muttered as Pinkie began bouncing crazily in place. "There's something more pressing that we have to take care of now."

Initially, the problem had been a governable issue between two decidedly dissenting parties: one remained adamant that a particular item in question was theirs for having collected it first, whilst the other through raw brute force elected that they rightfully deserved it. Neither was willing to budge in regards to the matter of lawful ownership, so it became necessary for an unprejudiced entrant to justly negotiate a fair and legal decision.

Thankfully, an arbiter made herself available to mediate a peaceful outcome before any bloodshed occurred.

"Angel dear," Fluttershy cooed at the combative small white rabbit in her most placid tone, "I would really appreciate it if you'd give Larry his sandwich back. I know you're very hungry, but you have to be patient too. I promise I'll serve your lunch next. Is that okay?"

The bunny sighed, flattened his ears in defeat, and grudgingly surrendered the sandwich he'd forcibly ripped from a terrified tiger currently hidden beneath a decoratively patterned throw rug adorning Fluttershy's sparse living room.

"Good boy," the yellow pegasus hummed, scrubbing Angel graciously between his ears. The tiger collected his meal timidly then, careful to keep a keen eye on the markedly petulant hare. "You're a gentle pony for being so understanding. That means extra spinach for being so mannerly!"

The isolated tree house that Fluttershy dwelled in, located at the very closest edge of the perilous Everfree Forest, was alive with frantic midday activity – critters of every make and description scurried about in earnest as lunch was attentively served to them by their accommodating pony caretaker. Squirrels, eagles, owls and weasels all clamored for carefully placed containers piled high with appropriate foodstuffs, as foxes and raccoons tumbled about the floor in a maddened frenzy of barking, chittering chaos. The timid pegasus mare performed this daily feeding ritual without fail, satisfying all her animal friends – even those with the most finicky dietary requirements - with a graceful, unflappable expertise.

"Eat up my friends," she chimed, setting the last heaping bowls of food at the awaiting paws of her hungry guests. "I hope you all enjoy your meals."

Fluttershy turned to remark the calming soothe of her home's landscape then, setting down at a window closest to the view she preferred – the open, unfettered forest that marked the beginning of the Everfree Woods. Breathing a long sigh, she felt a blissful peace overwhelm the otherwise obnoxious noise of a hundred animals fighting over food, leaving her with a wonderful content that, to be frank, she simply couldn't explain to anypony else. No matter the work, no matter the task, this made her happiest of all.

This made her special. This made her essential and important. This made her efforts and intentions worthwhile.

It was good. Being needed, being necessary. Very good. Life was good.

Spike kicked hard at a pebble in the path, sending it skirting into the overgrown ferns and brush adorning the unkempt walkway he'd been idling along for some while now. He was frustrated and tired; at some point since the recent adventures of the great Elements of Harmony, Spike had found himself the unwanting object of ceaseless attention for a duty he performed despite accomplishing nothing of his own design.

He was told to leave Twilight's side, return the Crystal Heart, and he did just that. Case closed, right?

So why was it so damned important he own up to such on a grand royal stage for what ultimately remained a convenient turn of events? Why was it so hard to be in front of a nation of ponies and decided a hero when... when there was no actual heroism involved?

Following orders. Receiving instructions. He might as well be given the Equestrian Medal of Valor for sweeping dust off the library floor, for all he cared. Why did it have to affect everyone so strongly?

Why did... why did he have to carry the weight of a split-decision he wasn't even allowed to make himself? A reaction is beyond thought, in the sense that it remained an action in response to some influence; what made it an act of bravery when it was nearly unconscious?

That's about the time he walked into Fluttershy's mailbox, smashing his snout.

"Awp!" The dragon exclaimed, falling backward onto the dirt path. He lay still for long moments after the fact, his head having been so drowned in thoughts of other issues that it took his waking senses a while to process what had just happened.

"Oh dear," a voice managed nearby, though barely. "I knew I should have wrapped that awful metal mailbox in soft pillows. It was only a matter of time before someone seriously hurt themselves on it."

Spike rubbed at his poorly face, then regarded Fluttershy with a sigh.

"Right now, a knock to the skull feels awesome. Seriously."

To Be Continued.

The Wisdom of Kindness Pt. 2

Awards of the Heart: The Wisdom of Kindness Pt. 2 – by Twifight Sparkill

After being forcefully ushered into the feral chaos that made up Fluttershy's domicile, Spike found it hard to ignore the overwhelming noise and stench of woodland intruders despite the distracting ache that persisted behind his eyes. Fluttershy herself seemed unaware, expertly maneuvering between and amongst her pesky patrons as she led the injured dragon into the living room.

Having walked blindly into the letter drop outside Fluttershy's roost mere minutes prior (which admittedly took some feat for its placement making it an inconceivably difficult target), during his trip to nowhere in particular, the young dragon now found himself at the edge of the Everfree Forest and in the insisting care of a hermit veterinary pegasus. Although he'd presumed he wasn't seriously injured from his painful encounter, Fluttershy remained undeterred by contrary opinion.

No doubt there would be some grossly invasive investigation and subsequent diagnosis to come – actual medical credentials notwithstanding, obviously. Best to grin and bear it, the dragon figured.

"I'm so very sorry about the mailbox incident," Fluttershy apologized. "Please, sit down on the couch." She shooed the creatures aside as both made their way to the central daybed, amidst squawks of disapproval from her guests. "Are you in pain? Is there anything I can do for you, Spike?"

"I think I'm okay," he moaned. Spike checked his nose with a few careful swipes of his paw. No blood, nothing that would indicate any worrisome issues. The initial sharp shock was beginning to dull now, thankfully.

"How bad does it look?"

Fluttershy leaned in close, inspecting his snout with measured concern. It took her a long while, eventually lending to scrutinizing his scalp, chin, neck and upper body, to determine. She was agonizingly thorough, which left him uncomfortable.

"Hm," she hummed.

"Hm?" he responded, tilting his head curiously.

"Hm," Fluttershy repeated, though more deliberately.

Spike huffed impatiently.

"... well!?"

"I... I can't really say," the mare finally admitted. "Do dragons bruise easily? I mean, you're purple all over... it's sort of tough to tell."

The dragon sighed, hiding his face in his paws. He was already upset to begin with, now this? The fracas was infuriating, never mind the malaise he'd suffered since leaving the library. It was becoming too much for him.

"... and you do bathe in lava... I guess you look okay enough on the outside, anyway."

"Great," Spike growled, hopping from his seat. "I'm sorry for bumping into your postbox, and I look and feel okay. Right? I didn't realize I'd come this far outside of town, and I guess I didn't bother to look where I was going. Unless there's anything else, can I just go now?"

Fluttershy blanched then, displaying a sudden open horror that caused the dragon to forget his mood enough to flinch.

"Er..." he began.

"... oh my," Fluttershy gasped.

Before Spike could begin to muster a query, the pegasus quickly turned toward the feasting critters immediately about them in the room.

"Everyone out! Quickly! Back to your homes!" she bellowed in an uncommonly stern voice. Within moments, a flurry of feathers and fur erupted amidst a rushing departure, leaving behind an eerie silence.

Fluttershy stayed still, her back to the dragon, and all was quiet.

Spike swallowed hard, staring with wide eyes.

"Uh..." he wondered aloud, interrupting the peace, looking about the vacant house, "... should I leave too?"

"Oh goodness no," Fluttershy stated, spinning around to meet his gaze, fear painted plainly upon her face. "You are in grave danger, Spike. We all are."

Riding the train was delightful, Pinkie decided. The clickety-clack of the wheels, the merry tooting of the horn, the bustle of the passengers; all were a cheerful cacophony of sights and sounds that lent to a relaxing, exciting adventure. The countryside swam along outside her window, blurring vibrant wilderness and rural distance in a constantly changing picture frame, only slowing once in a while for whatever station came next. Despite herself, she was quiet and deeply enamored with the calm of travel.

"Beautiful," she whispered, taking a long breath as the procession came to a soft halt at some remote location. "I love trains."

Twilight wasn't listening, instead staring at the back of the preceding seat as if to burn a hole through it. As she had since boarding, despite being offered snacks and drinks.

"I love trains," Pinkie continued. "If I ever decide to be a hobo pony, it'll be because I love trains... and beans. I love beans cooked on an open fire. Oh, and shanty towns! Cooked beans and poor ponies, swapping stories about riding the rails and seeing all of Equestria... wouldn't that be fun, Twilight?"

The purple unicorn didn't respond.

"I don't think I could ever be a hobo pony, though," Pinkie muttered wistfully. "I'd miss having a home. I would miss Ponyville too much." She played with her mane idly, winding the curls around her hooves then pulling them until they sprang back into place, over and over in nervous habit. "The Cakes are such nice ponies, and I love foal sitting and making tasty treats... and I'd really miss all of my wonderful friends. It must be awfully lonely being a hobo pony, having nowhere to go or anyone to love. Don't you think, Twilight? Wouldn't that be terribly sad? Twilight?"

"Pinkie," the lavender unicorn finally spoke, "I need you to do something. It's very important."

The fuchsia mare blinked a few times.

"Okay!" she chimed, leaping to attention.

"Take this bag," Twilight directed, levitating a coin purse from her saddlebags, then placing it in Pinkie's lap. "Get off the train, go to the front of the station for exactly ten minutes, then open it up."

Pinkie wondered at the request, gathering the pouch as instructed.

"Mmka-aaay... and?"

"Go now," the unicorn beckoned. "Don't ask questions."

Pinkie shrugged, offering a salute. "Yes, ma'am! Pinkie is at your disposal! You can count on me! Your wish is my command!"

She hopped into the walkway, made it halfway to the exit, then looked back with sudden concern.

"Um... Twilight," Pinkie asked in a playful tone, "is it a surprise?"

"It is," Twilight nodded. "It's a surprise."

"Okee-dokey!" the earth pony beamed, hopping out onto the platform and into the depot. "I just love surprises!"

Twilight grimaced as her pink companion disappeared.

"... it's a surprise, Pinkie." she breathed, rubbing her head in distress. "I'll never forget you."

To Be Continued.

At the Corner of Forever

Awards of the Heart: At the Corner of Forever – by Twifight Sparkill

Applejack breathed a ragged sigh, marching purposefully along the last few city blocks of Bridleburgh's densely occupied thoroughfare towards the train station with her newly mended apple cart in quick tow.

"Finally," she muttered quietly to herself. "Ah am so done."

It had been a feckless and arduous trip to find the necessary parts for her badly broken wagon, only requiring a few bolts and plates to repair in the end, but it had cost far too much time and bits for her liking. Having the custom fittings she'd needed manufacturing and installed by a local smith found nestled on the outskirts of the bustling steelworks town – located after an intensively aggravating search for having been given countless misdirections which led her from one side of the twisting borough to the other – it was time to head home and deal with the unpleasant task of preparing the barrow for work. Realigning struts and wheels, adjusting the harness array, making all the mandatory alterations needed to sustain the rigors of daily abuse.

It could've been far worse all things considered, but the exhaustive affair had been a decided pain in the flank.

For all the things that could go wrong, it ever seemed the timing of these random unfortunate circumstances couldn't be more frustrating. Year after year, crop after crop, the last thing the Apple family needed to go wrong would ultimately go wrong as if by some accursed clockwork. That alone made the matter all the more defeating, as they'd prepare ad infinitum just to watch something completely unexpected go awry. It just figured that their latest and most expensive purchase, the pride of last year's harvest, would undoubtedly fail the moment Applejack dared to tack it up for this season's crop. It had cost her four days of travel, incessant waiting, and fretting something awful in sum, overlooking the hundreds of bits necessary.

If her barest estimation was at all accurate, she'd likely be back to minding the orchard in just enough time to finish the harvest – if she worked from daybreak to dusk for a week straight, that is. She didn't dare to wonder what else could possibly go wrong – that'd just be asking for trouble, and fates preserve her if another problem reared its gruesome head. Never test the fates.

Turning off from the terribly crowded main street, Applejack spied the depot's clock tower off in the distance. She could see the terminal's entrance now, swamped with crowds of bustling passengers lugging trunks and other travel essentials in a maddening midday cacophony. It'd be no easy feat to find her way through that deluge of bodies, bother it all. Almost done, though. Almost homeward bound. Just a few niggling details and she could sleep the whole ride home. That alone gave her hooves a little bounce as she trotted onwards.

Arriving at the end of the closest ticket counter queue, she sorted through her saddlebags for the pouch containing her few remaining bits.

"... what the hay?" she exclaimed, rooting frantically about. "Where the blueberry blazes did ah put ... it was just ... ah swear I had 'em right here!"

Before she could manage to figure out what had happened, a fuchsia hoof appeared in her periphery.

"Here you go Applejack," Pinkie grinned, holding out her missing coin purse. "You should be more careful with your money. I usually recommend investing it in sugarcane stocks, myself. Mmm... sugar! I'm sure most of your folder is deeply fixed in the produce markets, but it never hurts to diversify! Salt is good too, so long as you're not thirsty!"

The orange earth pony stared incredulously at her pink comrade, then shook any reasonable nagging questions from her head before she was overwhelmed.

"Woah! Ah... well thanks, but Pinkie..." Applejack stammered, taking back her bits, "what the heck are you doing in Bridleburgh?"

"I have no idea!" Pinkie Pie beamed, hopping in place.

So much for a timely return to Ponyville, damn the luck.

Spike squirmed nervously, finding Fluttershy's devoted attentions nearly too invasive to handle. Upon her sudden dramatic declaration previous, the conversation had since fallen to murmured hums and knowing nods as the yellow pegasus performed a very personal physical.

Maybe a bit too personal.

"Was this lump always here?" she noted, gesturing towards...

"WOAH!" Spike jumped, throwing himself into the corner of the couch, curling into an intimate ball. "What the hay is going on here!? There's nothing wrong with me!"

Fluttershy clucked her tongue, shaking her head.

"I've lived alongside the Everfree Forest for a long time," she recanted, searching about the various vials and vessels kept organised neatly in her nearby pantry. "I have nursed nearly every cute critter and cantankerous creature you could think of through the very worst ailments... please, will you trust me?"

Plucking a corked beaker from the top shelf in her mouth, she turned back to her malcontent patient. The mare placed it gently beside the shaken dragon and pulled the top from it. A slow waft of floral plume developed about their countenance.

"Tell me what's haunting you, Spike?" Fluttershy whispered.

The little drake noted a hint of lavender in the air, and despite himself took an attentive sniff at it.

His body suddenly felt lighter, and the scent became more attractive. Taking a decidedly long draught at the inviting smell, his muscles melted, and he felt as if he was floating adrift a warm breeze.

"... what's going on? This feels so good..." Spike managed, his eyelids suddenly drooping as his mind relented to a state of unmitigated bliss. "I don't think... I mean, I don't really know... I'm just a little confused about me? Maybe a bit hurt inside, I don't know..."

Fluttershy nuzzled at him, settling the dragon back into the soft comfort of her weathered chesterfield, as the downy material enveloped him in a cradling embrace.

"It's okay now. I know how to treat all sorts of poisons," she whispered in his ear, nudging him into a more restful position.

"I also know when to ask for help."

As Spike began to snore, a knock came at Fluttershy's door. After replacing the stopper for her medicinal beaker, she then marched purposefully to answer her visitor, opening the entry with a relieved smile.

"Thank goodness you're here," Fluttershy sighed in relief. "Not a moment too soon!"

"I came as soon as I could," Zecora nodded, noting the packed saddlebags draped over her sides. "I doubt I'd be any faster – did you have to send every animal in the wood?"

Fluttershy blushed for that.

"It is an emergency," she promised.

The train came to a soft halt at Canterlot, and bodies began moving throughout the aisles in a frenzied effort to collect overhanging baggage. Children and parents cooed awestruck irreverence for the splendor of their beloved capital as they disembarked, yet Twilight remained steadfast in her seat.

She hadn't moved a muscle since ushering Pinkie off, admittedly. Her head had swum in a discord of strange thoughts since, and as much as she'd fought to make sense of these unusual desires pushing at her, she couldn't manage to properly decipher anything.

"Madam?"

Twilight looked up at an awaiting porter and shook herself back into waking reality. He was watching her with some particular purpose now, perhaps having asked her a few times.

"... sorry," she blushed, searching her suddenly stirred thoughts for a viable retort. "I was thinking. Yes?"

The uniformed pony smiled at the lavender unicorn, seeming genuinely concerned.

"Canterlot is our last stop. Unless you'd like to proceed beyond your ticket?"

She only then recognised that she'd been violently squeezing her train ticket all this while, set obviously in her sore grasp.

"...oh, right." Twilight murmured, looking at the receipt absently.

"Are you okay?" the railway caretaker finally asked.

"Perfectly," the librarian breathed, sitting upright and boldfaced. She knew what had to be done, and had for some long while. Leaning forward, she dutifully claimed a few bits from her purse and offered them neatly to her concierge.

"Please upgrade my ticket? I want to proceed to the Crystal Empire."

The attendant nodded, claiming her bits, then printed a new ticket with the device belted at his waist.

"One ticket set for the Empire. Thank you, madam."

Twilight found herself grinning, despite.

"Oh no," she cooed gently. "Thank you."

To Be Continued.

Prisoners and Poisoning

Awards of the Heart: Prisoners and Poisoning – by Twifight Sparkill

Spike sat idly by as the two physician mares huddled together, conferring in guarded whispers just beyond his earshot. He knit his claws nervously, finding their tones a bit too somber for his liking.

The young dragon had apparently fallen asleep at some point earlier, for reasons he couldn't completely recall at the moment, and had woken some hour or so later upon an unfamiliar weathered green couch that smelled faintly of wet dog and spiced incense.

The veterinary yellow pegasus that had insisted he stayed lingered in the cottage foyer with her back turned to him, engaged in somber conference with Zecora, the mysterious zebra alchemist known to reside in the Everfree Forest. The striped mare wore a decidedly serious expression, looking to Spike periodically throughout their deliberation, which left him more anxious.

He cocked an ear in hopes to catch some of their discussion, though couldn't manage to discern much for the baffling aesculapian speech they shared. Rubbing at his spinning head with a sigh, the dragon tried to remember what had transpired before succumbing to unconsciousness; a persisting black satin canvas ultimately mocked his vain attempts.

"... um, I don't mean to interrupt," Spike managed in a frustrated growl, "but what the hay is going on here? What happened? Where am I, and why does my head hurt?"

Both ponies turned then, addressing him with troubled stares.

"You hit your head quite hard on my mailbox," the pegasus explained. "I'm sorry about that. However, there's... something else I found during your physical. Please don't be upset, but I had to call for a second opinion. Sorry."

Zecora stepped purposefully towards the seated dragon, settling alongside him on the couch as Fluttershy watched on apprehensively.

"Can you try if able," the zebra asked in her foreign rhyming speech, "to recall what you'd said?"

She sidled close to Spike, wearing a placating smile – the sort reserved for doctors waiting to deliver the worst of news. "We believe your condition is currently stable, though we fear that an outbreak could yet be spread."

"Just tell her what you told me," Fluttershy urged.

The dragon blinked. He considered Zecora thoughtfully, then rubbed his chin.

"... I don't have to rhyme too, do I?" Spike asked.

Fluttershy squeaked at that, hiding her eyes with a hoof. The zebra laughed.

"Please, young Spike," the striped mare insisted, "we're sympathetic ears; tell us what you'd like, there's no judgment here."

The dragon took a deep breath, letting his mood and mind clear enough to manage some of his conversation with Fluttershy before he'd drifted off. He relaxed as much as was able given the circumstances and recounted what little he could recall.

"Okay," the baby dragon began. "Basically I'd said that I'm, I'm... afraid that Twilight doesn't need me, and I don't actually matter to her. That's it."

Both ponies suddenly flinched. Spike quirked a brow curiously, cleared his throat, then grudgingly continued.

"I suppose she's never really needed me around," he surmised, "save to do a few boring chores or run some errands, you know? Twilight is the student of Princess Celestia herself, after all! She's only forced to look after me because ... because she has to, I guess?"

Spike's heart sank, choking the words in his throat, an overwhelming sadness washing over him.

"She hatched me as part of some test, you know? I was ... a passing grade for her to get into magic school. How does that make me important to her? I'm only kept around as long ... as long as I'm useful to you ponies. I know that no matter what I do, one day Twilight will ... outgrow her use for me. I'll be all alone, and nopony will care if I'm here or gone! You're all these amazing Equestria-wide heroes, and I'm ... I'm nothing. You're all better off without me."

The mares watched him closely. Both began to go wide-eyed, which gave him pause.

"... it is as you claim," Zecora hissed at Fluttershy. "He's sick with despair. If infected just the same, she's likely unaware."

Spike stared at the pair blankly. Were they talking about him anymore? About Twilight? He was so confused, so alone. He swept the falling tears from his eyes, and stared at the droplets in his paws - why? Why was he so useless? Why wasn't anypony telling him what was going on?

Fluttershy collected a small mirror from her cupboard, clasped it purposefully in her wingtips, and walked it to Spike. Angling it enough for him to spy his own reflection, he studied the image within for a long while.

"Oh. That's not good," he finally managed, touching at his face in stunned disbelief. "Where... where have I seen that before?"

Applejack rubbed furiously at her temples in a vain attempt to quell an encroaching headache developing behind her eyes.

Having found Pinkie Pie at the remote train station of Bridleburgh – or more appropriately kept from returning home with her newly repaired cart despite the best of efforts – the orange farmer quickly darted for a small cafe located across from the station with her fuschia comrade close in tow.

Applejack knew her displaced colleague didn't intend to disrupt her carefully laid plans, but a few stiff drinks and a passable meal were the only things to keep her from having a full-blown fit for the damned luck of it. She took a long draw from her cool cider as it arrived, then set the mug upon the bartop with a pointed ferocity – startled patrons shot upward from their meals and drinks, then blithely returned to their business following a curt silence. Pinkie Pie settled quietly to her right, asking after some green cocktail adorned with enough fruits and umbrellas to start a tropical island resort.

The farmer took a deep breath, whispered something akin to a proper curse word, then addressed her company accordingly.

"So, y'mind telling me what the hay you're doing here exactly, sugarcube?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Twilight and I were looking for Spike, and now I'm here. Wherever here is," Pinkie Pie responded vigorously.

Swirling the remnants of her mug for a thoughtful while, Applejack threw the remaining contents down her throat, then slid the empty vessel down towards the barkeeper. Within mere moments, a freshly poured cider appeared in front of her. Hallelujah. She took a new draw from the cup, then resumed her inexplicably calm demeanor.

"You're in Bridleburgh, Pinkie," she noted. "It's a steel town; this is also where coal and coke and all manner of minerals come from. It's a smoggy, festering black blot on the world, and we're both stuck here despite what we'd prefer."

"... so I'm in Bridleburgh," the pink mare amended, slurping loudly at the remainder of her exotic brew. "Twilight and I were on a train, and she asked me to get off and wait for ten minutes. I waited ten minutes, then I found your coin purse. Lucky for you, yeah?"

The orange pony blinked awkwardly a few times. This was decidedly disjointed, even for Pinkie. Why would Twilight knowingly abandon a friend in some urban war zone when all the while supposedly looking for Spike? In fact, why were they looking for Spike in the first place?

"Barkeep!" Applejack called.

Two new drinks arrived neatly in front of the pair; one was a stifling colourful nightmare, the other a frosty golden bubbly nectar.

"... how about you tell me everything from the beginning, darlin'?"

"I just did," Pinkie grinned, chewing on a piece of mango.

The exasperated apple farmer pulled her hat down around her face, then screamed obscenities into it.

Twilight watched out the train car window as snow-blanched scenery flew by, finding the exercise a soothing ease compared to the troubling intuitions that insisted otherwise. Once a display announced the Northern Equestria stop, her guts stopped turning enough that she could manage to stand and gather her luggage. The remaining few ponies still left in her car stood as well, and the lot filed politely towards the exits. She remained last in the line, quietly collecting her feverish thoughts as the mob accumulated onto the thoroughfare.

"Twiley?" a voice suddenly called out.

That made her jump, a sudden burst of familiarity and dread shattering any plans made previously during her travel. The lavender unicorn absently wondered how she'd been spotted so quickly, being wrapped up in a cloak, looking and feeling very unlike her usual self.

Flanked by a dozen armoured guards, the newly crowned Prince of the Crystal Empire waved frantically at his sister from a security desk situated by the station walkway. He appeared to be supervising some newly appointed customs practice, requiring thorough identity checks and baggage inspections, before anyone could gain entrance into the reborn province.

Shining Armor was ever the loyal soldier, and likely insisted he remain an active military participant given the gravity of the current situation, Twilight surmised. He always was a fiercely determined colt.

She paused for a moment to consider her surroundings. The process of gaining entrance into the Empire appeared as some slow and laborious chore, though upon proper scrutiny moved quite smoothly; it maintained the disarming aloofness of a primped welcoming party, whilst corresponding elegantly alongside an ever-present lawful intimidation.

The line ran rather quickly, and before she could gather her waking wits, she was confronted with her brother's excited smile.

"H-Hello Shining Armor!" Twilight managed awkwardly. "Say, where's Cadance? I really need to talk to her. Now."

Her brother's expression visibly faltered for the clumsy greeting. The two armed ponies flanking him stepped purposefully around the desk, confronting the nervous librarian directly.

"Please come with us, ma'am," they instructed, nudging her towards an adjacent office room across the hallway. "Customary interrogation, nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about," Twilight repeated in a flat tone. "Nothing at all."

To be continued.

End of the Line

Awards of the Heart: End of the Line – by Twifight Sparkill

The weather and landscape started to brighten once the train had moved beyond the sprawling soot-grey reaches of urban Bridleburgh. The polluted shroud of industrial progress relented to reveal an endless ceiling of grand, immaculate blue sky, rooted to miles of fertile farmlands, blurry mottled greens polka-dotted periodically by barns, silos, and derelict harvesting apparatus. Which was fine, really.

Applejack wouldn't miss the stiff concrete sights or questionable smells of the bustling mining town left miles behind her, that was for damn certain. She longed to be back on the soft cool soil she'd tilled since physically able, surrounded by all of her siblings and loving extended family – complete with newly-repaired apple cart in tow.

However, it soon came to pass that the cruel ministrations of Fate had once again fostered alternative plans for her, despite hours of careful planning and scheduling beforehand. Come to think of it, since having become a member of the indefatigable Elements of Harmony, Applejack couldn't quite remember the last time she'd used phrases like 'everything is going according to plan' or 'well, that was quick and easy', unless ironically. Must be some sort of sardonic coincidence.

Now she was on a train to the capital of Equestria with an abandoned friend, in search of a friend who was looking for another friend, if she understood the besotted mess.

"... okay, let me get this straight: you arrived at the library to throw some surprise party for Spike, and he didn't show up," Applejack recited in a breathy sigh, "then you followed Twilight to Rarity's place, and afterwards she said something about fixing things?"

Pinkie Pie nodded absently, admittedly halfway distracted for the blurred landscape speeding by outside her window seat.

"... right. Next, y'both boarded a train to the royal castle and after a time Twilight gave you some bits and asked you to disembark. Then you inevitably found me in Bridleburgh, as luck would have it. Have ah got all that straight?"

Pinkie considered Applejack's recount, then tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"Did I mention that Twilight was acting super-duper weird? Like, weirder than weirdly weird?"

The orange mare acquiesced, bowing her head in consent.

"Now you and I are going to visit Canterlot to figure out what the heck is going on with Twilight and Spike," Applejack finally surmised. "Except ah don't understand why Spike would be in Canterlot in the first place, or why Twilight went all crazy."

"We're not going to Canterlot station, though," Pinkie corrected, shaking her head. "Twilight stayed on the train."

"What the buck!? You just finished tellin' me that ..." the farmer started to speak, then quickly thought differently about it. There was no rightful way to discern the transcendental powers that Pinkie Pie possessed; after so many accounts being proved as true, better not to question her uncanny predictions.

"Sorry, pardon mah outburst. So where is she supposed t'be heading to exactly, Pinkie?"

"The Crystal Empire. My twitchy tail spun sideways and did a flippy-flop after I found your coin purse, then my right eye twitched three times; she definitely rode the rails as far north as they'd go," Pinkie stated. "The end of the line, anyway. That's what my sense says, so mote it be. Never question the sense!"

Applejack flinched, touching at her thin coinpurse dejectedly.

"... well, buck my behind. There goes almost all the rest of my money then," she grunted. "Why couldn't these happenings be more cost-efficient? You'd think that national heroes would get some sorta transit discount, but no-oooo. Ah guess I'll upgrade our tickets, consarn it. Where'd you put yours?"

Pinkie opened her mouth, unfurled her tongue, and presented her permit.

"Nyeh!"

"Yer gross, sugarcube," Applejack muttered. "Thank Celestia we ain't related."

"Can you see what's down there yet?" the young dragon called out.

"Not yet," Twilight responded flatly, gingerly testing each step with a forehoof before proceeding down the treacherous spiral stone staircase they'd discovered beneath the Crystal Castle throne room. "I can't even see how far down this goes!"

Spike stared at Fluttershy's mirror for a long while, studying the troubling image reflected there. He didn't recognise the neon green eyes staring back; narrow slitted pupils rimmed with deep, wicked red irises, billowing purple mist at the corners...

These weren't his eyes. They were menacing and piercing and... eerily familiar.

"Twilight? Twiii-light!" the little dragon bellowed, racing down the winding crystal steps.

As Spike reached the bottom, he spouted hurried explanations at the unicorn for directly disobeying orders before she'd thought to ask.

"I know you'd told me to stay up there, but you were down here for such a long time and you weren't answering and I got worried so I came down here and you were just staring at that wall and... I was calling your name, but I couldn't seem to get your attention, and..."

Twilight shook her head dazedly, then regarded Spike with wide, panicked eyes.

"What were you looking at? I mean... it's just a wall," he noted, regarding the impasse curiously.

There was a sudden shift in his senses that felt altogether unnatural, spinning him into a dreaming form of reality. The dragon was soon standing in his hometown of Ponyville, near around the center of the main bazaar plaza.

"... I'm home!?" he exclaimed, looking about incredulously. "Wait, how did I get here??"

He was next transported into the library. Spike hadn't so much as blinked, and he was standing in the middle of the Golden Oaks athenaeum. The smell, the details... everything was accurate – save for having to confront a very indignant Twilight Sparkle, who was terribly angry.

She eventually spoke. Angry words, cutting him to the core. The barest, most painful things that could be, leaving the dragon flailing and terrified.

"No! I don't wanna go! Please, Twilight, don't make me!"

Just as Twilight's eyes were when she'd confronted the dark magic trap Sombra had placed within the Empire's deepest confines, all sinister manifest and otherworldly malice ... worn solely by Twilight and himself.

Twilight's eyes. Her eyes were like this.

Spike approached the door at the bottom of the spiral stone staircase. His eyes spouted a billowing purple darkness and he cried out.

The purple unicorn regained herself and slammed it shut. She hastily explained that King Sombra had bewitched the door to make it show their most terrible fears, and that's what they'd been affected by. She reassured Spike that she'd never send him away, and used magic to locate and open the real door beyond it.

Passing through it, they found a light blue staircase snaking up the exterior of the tower. Like the dark staircase, this one seemed to be as arduous.

Possessing unique magical abilities, Twilight was able to navigate the pair through several enchanted traps, until she and Spike eventually reached the uppermost reaches of the castle. They found the Crystal Heart mere moments before Cadance's magic failed, forced to watch on helplessly as it was swallowed up by a thick spiked prison of dark crystal tendrils.

The mirror slipped from Spike's grasp, turning onto its edge before impact; it didn't shatter, but the loud noise was enough to startle everyone present.

"... we have to stop her! We have to stop Twilight!" he shouted, then promptly passed out.

"... you were right, Zecora." Fluttershy gasped. "What do we do now?"

"We need to gather your Harmony crew if we're going to see this calamity through," the zebra remarked, checking the vitals of the poor sleeping dragon. "Two are here and two are there. We haven't any time to spare."

The train started to slow, chugging laboriously against staunch icy resistance as snow and debris marked that they'd arrived at the Crystal Empire.

Applejack shuddered as she spied the frosty landscape, wishing she'd had the forethought to bring a coat and boots. Pinkie Pie flew from her seat before they'd come relatively close to stopping, hopping about in place by the exit with frenzied jubilance. The orange mare chuckled, gathered their various belongings, and relented her typical staunch demeanor for the infectious tend of her excitable comrade.

"Settle down there, girl," Applejack said with a grin. "You've got everything, right? You're all set?"

"All set!" Pinkie responded, bouncing happily. "Bring on the frigid winter! WOO! Let it go, let it go-ooo!"

The passenger car doors opened, and the pair walked out onto the platform. The air was still and quiet, save for the gentle sound of snowfall.

Applejack stepped carefully onto the station deck, then froze in place, mouth agape.

Bodies were littered about the station. Ponies ranging from elder to toddler were strewn about and throughout the depot, having probably dropped where they'd stood for some of the awkward posturings. The conductor and stewards from their own train stopped and fell as well, succumbing to some mysterious invisible blight.

"Wow," Pinkie gasped. "Now this is what I call a seriously super siesta, ¿sabes? Espero que estos ponis están dormidos, de lo contrario voy a perder mi mierda!"

The orange farmer stared, considering the assemblage of lifeless citizens scattered everywhere. She finally covered her mouth with a kerchief from her saddle pack, then forcibly marched Pinkie away and a good distance from the macabre site.

"We're gonna need help here, Pinkie," Applejack whispered once the pair were well outside the apparent sphere of influence, trying to shake off the creeping dread scratching at the walls of her mature repose. "This situation is way beyond the abilities of a couple of simple earth ponies."

"You're right!" the fuschia mare wailed, hugging her companion tightly. "Let's hope some complicated earth ponies show up soon! With candy!"

To be continued.

The Dressmaker's Displeasure

Awards of the Heart: The Dressmaker's Displeasure – by Twifight Sparkill

Spike couldn’t help but fidget under Rarity’s attentions; the initially proposed minutes required for his alterations had since turned into nearly a solid torturous hour, forced to stand stock still upon an ornate pedestal in the center of her Boutique as she worked to fit his new outfit.

The unicorn bustled about him, fiddling with the finer details of her current custom appointment – a shockingly stately black adornment, accented with specific fineries at the cuffs and collar, manufactured and measured with the very keenest of visions. However, for each stroke of a chalk bit, every snip or pin to set, the slightest instance would require a painstaking investigation which resulted in an immediate trial and error venture that, quite frankly, left him feeling more uncomfortable than he already was.

He didn’t dare say a word.

As Spike and everyone else that knew Rarity had come to accept, her requiring to attend every aspect in an unwavering pursuit of perfection empowered the fashionista – there simply was no argument to be had, the answer being as adamant as law: nothing was complete until she deemed it absolutely fabulous. The garment wouldn’t be permitted an audience until positively worthy of a grand presentation, and nothing short of exhaustive obsession would dare to determine such. Or recalculation, as the case was.

The dragon breathed a mournful sigh, well aware he’d be held captive until given his beautiful warden’s relenting permission to even flinch – no matter how many imperceptible errors, how many colored drapes or matching shaded swathes or flailing threads tied to sharp needles piercing hither and thither, how many countless redirections or reassertions via the whim of her vexing artistic vision, this sentence was crucial to the success of Rarity’s pursuit of genius – it was an absolute must he remain completely still, lest he suffer the consequences.

Mind, having the talented seamstress he'd secretly adored from afar fawn so closely over his countenance, it was almost nearly worthwhile having to be so aggressively statuesque; at least she was excited to be with him and about him, at any rate. That wasn't so bad.

Always good to take stock of the little victories, hm?

“Please lift your left arm, Spike.” Rarity issued, remeasuring about his little paws. “Sleeves should break just at the wrist and allow a little bit of shirt cuff to show, mm? For your personal tailoring specifics, I had to hem the cuff of your sleeve from the tip of your thumb so as to make it fit as precisely as possible. It’s not a common practice pour Moi, but as your structure is vastly different from that of ponies and we simply cannot have anyone miss out on those staggeringly beautiful cufflinks I made for you, we must be doubly sure everything is hanging at its proper length.”

He followed her instructions, quietly wondering when she'd be adequately appeased with all this incessant fussing – really, was it so important Spike be a stunning figure amongst a bunch of dignitaries that dwarfed him? He wasn't entirely sure anyone would notice him, even if he burst into flames amidst the procession.

“Thank you! You can relax for the time being,” Rarity nodded approvingly. “I need to borrow this a moment – don’t sit down and crease those pants! I’ll be right back once I've placed these shoulders properly, hm?”

A sapphire blue haze of summoned magic removed Spike’s coat, popping it to rest atop her main workbench.

“Take your time Rarity,” he exhaled gratefully, slouching from exhaustion. “I mean that. Whatever you have to do, take as much time as you need.”

“I've only a few adjustments left dear,” she chimed, turning to check on various notes and revisions. “You must be the brilliant star of the show, after all – this is your big moment! A grand celebration of extreme bravery befitting a bonafide hero! I am so proud of you!” Rarity smiled, turning to address the little dragon properly. “We all are! I simply cannot wait to see you up in front of all Equestria, accepting your justly earned accolades! Especially in this outfit - you're almost too adorable in it! I could just eat you up!”

Spike hopped to the floor, placed both paws at the small of his back, and pushed to the relieving sound of loud pops. “Who knew being a hero could be so painful?” He chuckled, offering a tired smile. “It all feels a bit surreal, you know? I mean, to be fair, it was Twilight’s sacrifice and Shining Armor tossing poor Princess Cadance at me that got us the Crystal Heart! I just happened to be falling to my doom at the time!"

“Tut, you’re being far too modest,” Rarity scolded playfully. “Why, if you hadn’t disobeyed poor Twilight and followed her into the underground chambers, there wouldn’t even be a Crystal Empire.”

She unfurled the tunic carefully before addressing Spike with a serious gaze, moving to place a reassuring hoof on his shoulder.

“You were very brave that day, willing to sacrifice as much as Twilight or anyone else to save those poor ponies from a wretched existence of slavery at the hooves of an oppressive tyrant. You deserve every medal and ribbon Equestria has. Like everypony else throughout the lands, we're humbled and grateful for your heroism.”

The small dragon paused, considering Rarity’s words thoughtfully.

“I hate to break this to you, but… I kind of just did what anyone else would have done,” he admitted. “Is it really so important that we make a big deal about it? I mean, I'd be just as happy with a plate of precious stones and a mug of Applejack’s special cider.”

“That cider isn’t made for baby dragons,” Rarity shushed, placing a gentle kiss atop his crested head. “Besides, being a hero is absolutely worthy of attention – it inspires and enriches the greatest of poems and prose, reminding those who have no recourse that there remains true justice and recognition for the noblest of acts. Don’t you want to be recognized for your moment of glory, Spike? After all the travels and trials we’ve all been through throughout the years we’ve been best friends, don’t you think you should have the spotlight for a change?”

“… not really,” Spike admitted.

She gawked at him in disbelief.

“C’mon Rarity, let’s be realistic,” the dragon bemoaned. “I’m not a member of the famous Elements of Harmony, now am I? I’m just an orphaned baby dragon that Twilight hatched during her entrance exam for Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns – she got to keep me as a reward. I mean… a lot of the time? To be completely honest? I don’t even feel like I belong here.

The unicorn knit her brows, wearing a stern frown.

“It’s like some weird dream, being surrounded by all these amazing ponies that’ve saved Equestria countless times – I mean, I get to be the sidekick to a group of actual heroes!” Spike gestured, making grand sweeps to communicate the praise he genuinely felt for his wondrous companions. “I tell you, it’s totally awesome – I’m like your biggest fan! Er… I mean, of all you guys, not just you Rarity,” he spoke, subtly suppressing a nervous cough. “You six have done more for Equestria than anyone in history! Nightmare Moon, even Discord and the Changeling Queen – they didn’t stand a chance against you! You guys kick serious flank!”

Spike paused then, staring absently at the floor. His chest began to tighten.

“… I mean, despite what happened, how could I believe I’m anything special compared to you six?” He wiped his eyes, finding an unexpected well of emotion sticking in what was a very heartfelt admittance. “I'm a sidekick; I delight in the company of legends. How... how does that make me even matter at all? You could've managed well enough without me, I figure...”

Rarity's lower lip began to quiver – not for any sort of sorrow, but rather a barely contained fury.

“You have got to be joking, Spike!” she exclaimed in a tone that threw the dragon off guard - the sort of scornful measure reserved for scoundrels and thieving drek. “How can you be so thoughtless? So outright cruel? So selfish and insensitive? I can't believe you!”

“Um,” the dragon mused, tapping his chin in consideration. “Did I just totally miss something here?”

“Yes you most certainly did!” Rarity snarled, tears welling up in her azure eyes. “You are casting aspersions upon a very close friend of mine, and I will not stand for it! Someone whom I’ve become unwaveringly fond of; someone I love unconditionally and completely. I will not stand here and listen to you belittle and degrade a figure of such outstanding and impeccable character – I will not stand for it, do you hear me?”

Spike stood there, slack-jawed and horribly confused.

“Er, who exactly are you talking ab—”

“You!” she chastised. “You, Spike! Have you no idea how much we need you and love you? You’re one of the most wonderful, most genuine spirits to have ever come into our lives! How could you belittle yourself so, especially to me? How could you… how could you think we don’t respect you and adore you? Why, Spike? Why would you even dare to think for one minute that you weren't one of the most important individuals in our lives? Oooh, how dare you! How dare you!”

Spike just blinked. He couldn’t find a single word to offer in retort.

“I’ll be finished these little alterations in a moment,” the unicorn huffed, turning her nose up in disgust, marching back to the design table where Spike's jacket lay. “You just think about what you’ve said, mister. We’re not even close to being done discussing this, oh no – not by a long shot! Do you hear me?”

"... yes," he muttered.

This was likely going to be the longest outfitting ever.

To be Continued.